Page 54 of Vicious Temptation

If she were a different woman, one with experience, I could maybe justify trying to have a casual fling with her. Something that would scratch an itch for both of us.

If she wasn’t my children’s nanny. If she hadn’t been through all the trauma that’s been imposed on her.

If, if, if.

At the core of Bella is a woman I would like to spend more time with, a woman that I’d like to do a hell of a lot more with, god only knows. But all of those other things are a part of her, and her place in my life, and they can’t be undone.

But the desire throbbing through my body as I watch her go wants too badly to ignore all of that.

I re-rack the weights, heading upstairs and hoping I don’t run into her. I hear the sound of the shower running from somewhere down the hall as I reach the floor her room is on, and every part of my body tightens all at once.

The image of her standing in the shower, naked and wet, soap suds dripping off of her perfect breasts and running in rivulets down her smooth skin, the humid room filled at first with the scent of her sweaty, warm skin and then the cleaner, fresher scent of her after she’s scrubbed down?—

I was already half-hard, my cock swollen just from being near her in the gym. I’d been fighting a hard-on all morning, and now, at that image, I feel my cock stiffen in an instant, all the blood in my body rushing south as I go rock-hard, the need for release nearly overriding all else.

Fuck. I pivot, making a beeline for my bedroom, and my own shower.

My hand is already around my cock as soon as I strip my clothes off, my breath coming hard and fast as I drop them in a sweaty pile on the floor and reach with my other hand to twist the taps on in the shower. My hand is moving with a mind of its own, running up and down my stiff, throbbing length, and I grit my teeth to bite back a moan.

I’m going to come quick and hard. It won’t take long. My balls are already tight, that electric tingle rushing up and down my spine. I step into the water, bracing one hand against the tile as I jerk my cock hard, and the image of Bella in front of me, her perfect, heart-shaped ass tilted up as I push myself between her warm, soft thighs into the wet heat waiting for me sends me over the edge.

“Fuck!” I nearly snarl the word between gritted teeth, hips pumping as I fuck my fist hard, sending spurts of cum shooting against the tiles. My toes curl against the shower floor, my head spinning, and I’m breathing so hard I feel dizzy. My cock throbs again, another jet of cum hitting the tiles, and I swear I’ve never come so hard or as much as I do when I’m thinking about her. What happens when you go months without ever jerking off, I guess, I think somewhere in the back of my mind as I gasp, hand still stuttering along my oversensitive length as I swallow hard, my mouth dry.

And then I let out a frustrated groan, because I can tell that’s barely even taken the edge off. I’m still hard, still aching, so stiff I probably wouldn’t even be able to get dressed. And all I can think about is her.

I need to get laid. I grit my teeth as I drop my hand away from my cock, willing my erection to subside. I need to get over myself, and get over this growing obsession with Bella, and go out to a bar like any other normal, wealthy man in his mid-thirties. I like to think I’m not vain, but I’m not unaware of what I see in the mirror—I wouldn’t have much trouble picking up a woman for the night. I never have before. Or I have contacts—getting into an exclusive club for the night where I can pay a woman to satisfy any desire I can think of would also be as simple as picking up the phone.

But it’s not what I want. The process of going out and trying to meet someone just for a night sounds exhausting, and I don’t like paying for sex.

What I do want, I can’t have. And as I finish my shower, my hand resignedly wraps around my cock again in an effort to calm my arousal enough to go about my day; I don’t know what the solution is. If it were anyone else, I’d try to stay away from her, until the feelings went away.

And with Bella, that’s one solution that isn’t an option.

—

I come back home earlier than usual, intending to stick to the plans I had for this afternoon, even though I know they’re only going to complicate things even more. Bella and the children are nowhere to be seen when I walk in, but I go straight to the kitchen, on a hunch that I’ll find Agnes there.

I’m right, as I thought I would be. She’s standing at the counter chopping fruit—probably for some kind of fruit salad, if I had to guess—and turns as soon as she hears me walking in.

“Gabriel! You’re home early.” Agnes sets the knife down, wiping a hand across her apron. “Bella and the children are in the movie room, I think. They usually watch something this time of day. I think Danny was very excited about something involving elephants.”

“I’ll go find them in a minute. But I wanted to ask—can you keep an eye on them for a while, until dinnertime? I want to take Bella out.”

Agnes’ brows shoot up, her eyes widening, just in time for me to think about how I phrased that sentence. “Out for a driving lesson,” I clarify, maybe a little too quickly, because I see the appraising look Agnes gives me. Like most women her age, with the added benefit of having spent her life watching me grow up, she sees through me too easily. She’s seen my attraction to Bella from the very beginning, and she’s not going to let me forget about it anytime soon.

“She doesn’t know how to drive,” I continue. “And I’d like her to feel that she has a bit more independence. So I told her I’d teach her.”

“Hmm.” One of Agnes’ eyebrows is still raised. “I overheard all of that about you opening accounts for her, you know. Skirting around the rules to go over her father’s head. That’s more than just a ‘bit more independence.’”

I’m not sure where Agnes is going with this. “Her father has too much control over her. She’s a grown woman. She deserves to be able to make her own decisions.”

“Decisions that might involve you?” Agnes tilts her chin up, but I see the look on her face when mine shutters, and she knows she’s pushed a little too far.

“Bella is my employee. I’m looking out for her well-being.” I say it flatly, without any hint of encouragement to continue this conversation. “That’s all.”

Agnes makes a humming noise in the back of her throat. “You’re a good man, Gabriel,” she says finally. “You deserve more than what you’re allowing yourself.” She looks at me for a long moment, her wrinkled face contemplative, and whatever she sees there causes her to shrug, turning back to the counter. “I’ll watch Cecelia and Danny while you take Bella on her driving lesson. It’s no trouble at all.”

I know her well enough to know that there’s more to what she’s thinking than what she’s said out loud, but I have no intention of pressing the issue. It certainly won’t help me sort through what’s already clogging up my mind.

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