Page 55 of Vicious Temptation

Bella is in the movie room with Cecelia and Danny, where Agnes thought they would be. I walk in just as the documentary they’re watching is ending. I stand in the doorway for a moment, watching as Bella gets up and collects their empty snack boxes, laughing at something quietly with Danny before she turns off the television and goes to bring up the lights. She does it all effortlessly, cheerfully, more relaxed than I’ve seen her in most of the time that I’ve known her, and I feel a pang in my chest as I realize that it’s more than just desire that makes me want to be near her.

There’s so much more to her than what she’s been allowed to be. She’s beautiful, which makes me want her, and she’s fantastic and loving with my children, which makes me feel affection for her, but I can see the person that she could blossom into if given the chance, just below the surface. A vibrant, intelligent, talented young woman, the kind of woman that a man could only hope to be lucky enough to have in his life, the kind of partner that I once had and have never allowed myself to want again.

It’s bad enough that I want her physically, I remind myself, shoving my hands into my pockets as I watch her move around the room. I can’t allow myself to fall for her, too.

I clear my throat, to keep from startling Bella when she turns around to see me there, but she still jumps a little. I see her tense, just for a moment, her lips pressing together at the sight of me, but she relaxes a moment later, as Cecelia and Danny clamber off of the couch and come running towards me, taking my attention off of her.

“Go find Agnes in the kitchen,” I direct them, after hugging them both and hearing the excited conversation about their day. “She’s going to keep an eye on you two for a little while.”

There’s no objection from either of them as they go barreling past me out into the hall, but I look up to see a quizzical, almost wary look on Bella’s face. I can’t blame her—I’d have to be dead to not know we both felt the tension in the gym this morning. The picture of her sitting on the gym mat at my feet, one movement away from being on her knees in front of me, is burned into my memory, and I have to actively push it away, lest I end up with an erection that isn’t going to go away for the rest of the night.

“Is something wrong?” Bella asks tentatively. She can’t seem to quite look me in the eye, and I feel my cock twitch, imagining why that might be. Did she feel as confused and turned on this morning as I did. Did she?—

I push that thought down, hard, because the image of Bella touching herself in the shower is one that will absolutely wreck me if I let myself think about it for even a moment. “No,” I tell her quickly. “Nothing’s wrong. I was going to take you out for that driving lesson, if you’re up for it, before dinner.”

“Oh!” Bella nods quickly, an interested gleam lighting up her face. “Absolutely. Do you want to go now?”

“I’m going to go change into something a little more casual, and then yes. Meet me in the foyer in fifteen minutes?”

Bella nods, and I head upstairs, my thoughts tangled. She bit her lip when she nodded, looked away from me, her cheeks a little flushed. Was it just the workout this morning? Is it the idea of being alone in a car with me? I’m half-hard by the time I get up to my bedroom, my cock swelling insistently against my thigh, and one look at the smooth blankets atop my bed and the thought of Bella beneath them tonight, when she goes to sleep, has me throbbing.

Fuck. I stride to the bathroom, undoing my belt, leaning forward to rest my forehead against the cool glass of the mirror as I wrap my hand around my cock. Three times. Three times today. Before Bella moved in, I jerked off three times in as many months, if that. I barely thought about sex. My love life was dead and buried, and I was fine with it.

Now, I can’t look at her without getting hard. Without my heart in my throat, choking me with desire as I drag my hand up and down my hard length, my body thrumming with the intense need to come. With the need to come in her, and every moment that I spend doing this is just taking the edge off, just putting a little more time on a ticking bomb. I’m not going to stop wanting her.

And I don’t know what the hell to do about it.

The image of her in the gym comes back to me, at my feet, and I imagine her pushing herself up to her knees, her hands resting on my hips as I fist my cock, resting it on that plush lower lip. Her mouth would be so wet, so warm—god, I used to love getting my cock sucked, and I miss that sometimes more than I miss sex. I miss the taste of a woman, too, that sweet taste on my tongue, the scent of her filling all my senses. I know for sure that Bella’s never been eaten out, and the thought of being her first, of being the only man to ever teach her how much pleasure can be had from a tongue rolling over her clit, licking, sucking?—

I moan, the sound ragged and desperate as my cock explodes in my hand, cum jetting out before I can catch myself and splashing across the mirror. I wince, but I can’t stop it, can’t even think clearly enough to grab tissues. All I can think about is Bella’s mouth as I come, about my cum streaking over her tongue, about my tongue on her, and how badly I want to hear her cry out as she floods my mouth with her taste.

I’m gripping the edge of the counter with my other hand so tightly my knuckles are white, panting with the force of my climax, a death grip on my still-spurting cock. It feels so fucking good, and I moan again as I rub my palm over the swollen, sensitive tip, wanting more. It’s not enough.

It’s not going to be enough until I’m buried inside of her, until I feel her softness all around me, until I’ve licked and tasted, touched and fucked every part of her body, and I can’t have that. I can’t fucking have it, and I’ve never in my life wanted anything I couldn’t have before.

I’ve never thought of myself as entitled, and I certainly don’t think I’m entitled to her just because I want her. But I also never realized how easily everything in my life has come to me, until I’ve been faced with desperately wanting the one thing I absolutely should not have.

I let go of my softening cock—grateful that it at least hasn’t stayed rock-hard the way it did this morning—and let out a long, shuddering breath. This can’t happen, I tell myself firmly, pressing my lips together and trying to think past the shattering pleasure that’s still coursing through me in small jolts of pleasant aftershocks. This can’t fucking happen. So rub your dick raw if you have to, Gabriel, but get the fuck over it.

I’d told Bella it would be fifteen minutes before I met her downstairs, and I know it’s closer to twenty by the time I get down there. If she notices that I’m late, or thinks anything about it at all, she doesn’t say. But I catch her looking at me for one brief second before I walk to her side, and I can see the flush rising up her throat.

She’s flustered around me, too. And that only makes all of this even more of an opportunity for disaster, because I can control myself if my lust is one-sided. I’ve never been the kind of man to keep trying if I’m not wanted, or to push my attentions on someone who doesn’t want them, and I never will be. But I’m getting all of the signals that she’s interested too—maybe for the first time, or at least the very first time in a long time—and that makes it all more difficult.

And no less forbidden.

“You ready?” I ask, trying to keep my face and voice neutral, and Bella nods. “Come on. I’ll take you out to the garage.”

I lead her across the yard, to the large detached garage where I keep a handful of my cars. I have more in a garage in the city, but I rarely take them out—I pay someone to drive them often enough to keep them in decent shape. I haven’t had the time or the inclination to go on a tear through the city in a six-figure sports car in years, like that part of me died, too. Everything I once liked about myself has been buried for these past four years, and it wasn’t until that night I opened up the Ferrari on that back road with Bella that I found myself missing it. Missing the man who used to be wilder, more spontaneous, who knew how to have fun. Who had a second penthouse in the city and liked to drink top-shelf scotch and drive cars for the sheer pleasure of it. Who was a playboy until he met the right woman, and then did all those wild things with her, instead.

Most of the time, I can’t even remember who he was. But Bella makes me want to.

I press a key fob in my pocket, and the garage opens up. Bella’s eyes widen as we walk in, to the stairs that lead down to the cooled, enclosed section where the cars are kept. I catch her out of the corner of my eye, head on a swivel, looking at the six vehicles I keep here. One of them is the Ferrari, and I see her linger on it for a second.

“Are you going to teach me to drive the Ferrari?” she asks teasingly, flipping her ponytail to one side, and I feel my stomach clench at the thought of those soft strands sweeping over my hand, of tangling them around my fingers.

God, the things I’d do to her in that Ferrari—and none of them are driving.

I grit my teeth, trying to get it together without leaving her hanging so long that she thinks her comment upset me. “Maybe one day,” I tease back, catching the glimmer of a smile on her face. She’s always beautiful, but she’s exceptionally gorgeous when she smiles, and it makes me want to keep doing and saying things to put that look on her face. Another urge that I haven’t had in a long time. “But for now, we’re going to start with a nice, normal car.”

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