Page 62 of Tempt Me

With my leg in the air and him plunging me full tilt, his cock clawed at something inside me that begged for more. Each rock of his hips brought a new brick of pleasure, building an orgasm that was out of this world.

Luke stopped. I opened my eyes to witness his body tense. The tattoos over his pecs danced as they bulged. His eyes opened; he blinked. Then he released a primal growl, dug his fingers into my thighs again, and thrust in and out, over and over and over.

My orgasm rocked through me, pulsing out a maddening beat in time to his movements. Over and over, with a clenched jaw and glistening muscles, he plunged until his shoulders sagged, and he gasped for air. Soon, he slowed, and I unfurled my grip on the bed sheet.

Luke was covered in a fine lick of sweat that highlighted the contours of his sculpted torso. I took in every line of his magnificent body and the tattoos that were intricate and perfectly matched his physique. This was an image I’d like to retain for the rest of my life.

Luke let out a huge sigh before he eased back, and his cock slid out of me. He rolled around to sit on the bed and tugged the sheet to cover his damaged leg and his groin.

I gradually pulled myself up to sit beside him at the end of the bed.

“You have no idea how much I needed that,” he said as I reached his side.

I huffed. “Me too.”

“No,” he said. “I’m serious. I haven’t had sex in more than six years.”

My jaw dropped. “What? A body like yours should be experienced by as many women as possible.”

He blinked at me as if disbelieving. Then he shook his head. “Not since the accident.”

I sensed that he wanted to say more, so I waited. For several heartbeats we sat side by side, looking out across the glorious, bedazzled ocean, listening to the sound of the waves crashing below.

“I was drunk when I crashed the car.”

I moaned and twisted my fingers together as I waited for the horrible story I knew was coming.

“Fortunately, I was the only one in the vehicle at the time. I lost my leg. But ultimately, I lost so much more. I was a crane driver, and I was good at it, too. But of course, I couldn’t do that anymore. I grew angry with the world, and it wasn’t long before I lost my wife and friends, and with them went my self-confidence.”

I had no idea what to say, so I waited out the silence.

“Three years ago, I decided it was time to change my life back around.”

“I can see that you have.”

He turned and smiled at me. Then he laughed, and it was so contagious I laughed along with him.

With that wonderful sound, I stood and tugged my dress on, and I shoved my G-string, belt, and bra into my bag.

“What’s your name?”

I swung my bag over my shoulder. “Memphis.”

A little frown rippled his forehead as if he didn’t believe me. “Well, Memphis, I think you’re my lucky charm.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and turned, and with that lovely thought, I headed out his door and made my way to my room.

I showered and cooked myself eggs on toast for breakfast.

Then I grabbed my diary and sat out on the balcony to eat.

I turned to the 21st of May and wroteMr. Luke Stone, room 27—and as I thought about the pristine suit that he’d worn on Friday night and the exquisite, yet flawed body hidden beneath, I wroteSurprise, Surprise.

I thought I was going through a life-changing experience, but what he’d been through must have been horrific. Life was a rollercoaster, full of highs and lows. I’d had my share of lows. This year, though, was showing me many, many highs.

As I breathed in the fresh ocean air and ate my eggs on toast, I detailed in my diary how wonderful sex had been with my hunky, tattooed, one-legged fashion designer. When I wrote that down, he actually sounded too good to be true.

Another aspect of our encounter occurred to me, too. For some inexplicable reason, men felt compelled to tell me things that they probably never told anyone else. I had become a therapist of sorts. Yet, if anyone asked me, these men were my therapy. I was the one learning and growing from this journey.

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