Page 40 of Tempt Me

Did that make me a bad person?

I decided it didn’t. There must be a million people out there who can’t relate to their parents. One of Aunty Ann’s favorite sayings was, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.”

She always seemed to understand the angst I had with Mom and Dad, and I loved her for that.

The sound of tumbling water had me dash to the bathroom to turn off the faucets. I managed to prevent catastrophe by about four inches. I lifted the plug to let a little bit of water out, then returned to the balcony to grab my cold toast and water. I put them on the edge of the bath, stripped off, and slipped into the warm water.

“Chelsea-Lea, pregnant.” I tried to picture her with a bulging belly but couldn’t. The woman I knew three years ago was obsessed with tight-fitting clothes and partying. She told me several times that she never wanted kids.

The possibility that she’d screwed around on Alexander was the best news I’d heard from home in years. Now, the two of them had a taste of what they’d done to me.

I truly did believe in Karma. Although, if Alexander hadn’t done what he did, then I would never have moved one thousand miles away from home. I wouldn’t have met my best friend, Lolita, and I certainly wouldn’t be participating in the challenge of my lifetime.

Fifty-two sexual experiences in fifty-two weeks.

As I slipped under the water, I inhaled the lovely floral scent, and my thoughts drifted to Benson, just four floors above.Is he doing the same as me?Rest and relaxation?

A flutter of excitement drifted through me at the thought of going up to him after this bath.

Would he give me the same kind of mind-blowing orgasms Henry did?

Damn, I need to stop comparing them.

It wasn’t fair on any of the men to be compared to someone they didn’t even know.

My hand fell between my legs, and after a moment’s pause, I touched my clit. It was hard to believe this tiny piece of my body could give me so much joy. I applied pressure with my finger and rolled the little nub around. Tingles of excitement twitched inside me.

It seemed that each time I was with a man, I learned something new about me and my body. Or was I becoming easier to please because I wanted it so badly? I dipped my finger into my pussy. It was hot in the bath, but it was even hotter inside those velvet folds.

I squirmed at my own touch, delighted at my ability to draw out this simple pleasure.

Alternating between playing with my clit and plunging into my hole, I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head of any thoughts other than my own sweet touch. From this angle, every drive into my pussy rolled my finger over my clit.

Unlike the beautifully scented Moroccan Rose Bath Oil, this was a guaranteed way to clear my mind.

I thrummed my sensitive bud, rolling it between my thumb and finger, and then applied pressure until it just began to hurt; then I plunged my finger into myself again.

Spreading my legs, I raised my hips out of the water and glanced down to see what I was doing. I really had become a voyeur; I just wished I could see better. I adjusted my hips, and my feet slipped, and I flopped into the bath. My ass hit the bottom of the tub hard, and as I banged the back of my head on the rim, a wave of water splashed onto the floor.

As I rubbed the painful lump on the back of my skull, the puddle on the floor was soaked up by my black-and-white cow-patterned bathmat.

“What am I doing?” There was a perfectly good man waiting for me in room forty.

Chapter Thirteen

As I’d spent some time talking to Benson this morning, I took an additional precaution by applying extra makeup to make myself into Memphis, including extra attention to disguise my eyes.

Maybe I should buy colored contact lenses?

I made a mental note to look into that.

In the meantime, electric blue eyeliner was the ideal choice for distracting from my green irises, and the foundation ensured my freckles were well and truly covered.

Satisfied with my makeup, I chose the short blonde wig. This was the first time I’d worn it, and it was quite a wrestle to get my long hair all tucked up in place. Once my hair was in, I checked for stragglers. All good.

Now for the outfit. My wardrobe really was a disaster. If I was going to get through the rest of the year in this challenge, then I needed to plan some serious shopping.

I tugged my trusty French maid outfit from the closet, held it against my body and assessed my reflection in the mirror. A handful of men had already seen me in this sexy costume, and I was getting bored with it. Also, it was daytime, so wearing my trench coat over it would not only look ridiculous, but it would also appear suspicious.

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