Page 15 of Tempt Me

7.

CHLOE

I wake up on Sunday morning tangled up in my sheets, my heart still racing from the most incredible dream. I was back in the courtyard at the party, hidden in the shadows with him.

His hands on me. His mouth on mine. I can still feel the silky sensation of my dress sliding off my body, and his firm touch easing my thighs apart.

And then he was touching me.

God, it felt so good. Slow and steady, just how I like it. His fingertips dipping into my wetness and circling my clit just right. My whole body is humming, and I wake up so close to the edge, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to slide my own hands down my body and pick up where he left me, aching for more.

Circling stronger, imagining he’s still here with me. My fingers slick with my own desire, the ache to be filled, just there...

What would it be like?

Would he hold me close, his body thrusting into me over and over as his wicked mouth whispered more filthy promises in my ear—or would the time for talking be done? No words, just action. Our bodies sliding, slick with sweat. His rough hands pinning me down. His lips feasting on every inch of skin. My bare breasts... my trembling nipples... my wet, aching pussy...

Yes, he would know just how to touch me. And when he finally claimed me and drove himself deep inside, it would hard and fast. No break, no mercy. He would push my body to the limit and oh, how I’d beg for more. No man’s ever touched me like that. No man’s ever taken that kind of control. Demanding surrender, with a firm grip and a hard stroke. The kind of domination that makes me flush just to think of it, the sweet shame of wanting what I can’t ever put in words.

But he wouldn’t need me to ask. He’d give it to me, over and over until I couldn’t take it anymore, but still, he wouldn’t stop. Not even when I would beg for release, no, he wouldn’t let me go. He would be relentless, his body surging into mine, owning me completely until finally, I break—

I come with a shudder, the pleasure rippling through my body in a swift, strong wave.

Oh my God, that was good.

My climax ebbs away and I stretch, gasping. I feel delicious, and I’ve still got my favorite day of the week still ahead of me. First, the community dance class I teach every weekend, then meeting Max for lunch, and—

I sit up with a jolt, the haze of my orgasm finally slipping away.

It wasn’t Max I was imagining in the privacy of my dreams. It was Jase. Just the way he promised.

“You’ll think about me, and you’ll come your sweet brains out, every time.”

I turn and bury my head in my pillows, letting out a muffled scream. Thanks a lot, imagination. I was going to put the sexy Brit out of my mind for good, but instead, I just cheated with him. Kind of. Almost.

Argh!

I roll out of bed and force myself into the shower, running it ice-cold to chase away the last hot, wicked images from my dream. Amanda is already working in the kitchen—or rather, her science lab—and I have to fumble past pots and jars of creams and liquids to grab an apple from the refrigerator.

“Thanks again for lending a hand yesterday,” she says, wearing a pair of bright-yellow rubber gloves. “We sold out of the skin cream, I told you, you’re a walking ad for it.”

“Anything to help.” It was fun manning the stall at the farmer’s market, and a welcome distraction.

“We were so busy I didn’t even ask how the gala went.” Amanda looks up, pausing her mixing. “Were you Cinderella? Did Prince Charming sweep you off your feet again?”

“Not exactly...” I crunch my apple. “Sienna was there.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry.” Amanda knows just how Sienna likes to get under my skin. “I’m telling you, she’s just jealous.”

“Of me? Please. What does she have to be jealous about?”

Amanda laughs. “How about you’re young, pretty, and with the family rock on your finger—you’re the center of attention now.”

I shake my head. “It’s not like that. If anything, I’m the one trying to live up to her. Max keeps saying I need to learn more from her, he wants us to hang out more.”

Amanda screws up her face. “That’s just weird.”

“No,” I sigh. “I get it. She’s the perfect socialite, and that kind of stuff is important to them. I need to make the effort.”

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