Page 20 of Tempted

Chapter 7

Steph

My blood is boiling. I’m so angry. At so many things that I can’t even wrap my head around them all. And it seems that I'm mad at everyone. Moira, Malcolm, Dougall, everyone. The worst part is that I’m becoming the girl that I’ve always hated. I don’t want to not want him to go out with this lass. It never used to matter to me. I would just move on. I would just grab the next lad that showed interest in me. And it’s pissing me off that I don’t want to do that. Malcolm has rejected me twice.Both times because I’ve chosen inappropriate moments to make my move.

...so I don’t know why I feel like now is any different.

The parking lot is desolate in the spot where I’ve parked. My car sits alongside a minivan and a BMW, respectively. Nobody is in either vehicle or in any of them that surround us. As Malcolm numbly walks me to my car, having turned his off and parked in a vacant spot about ten cars away, I feel the angst building up inside me. Nonetheless, as I press my key fob and unlock my door, he opens it for me, being the gentleman that he is, and I take this rare opportunity to plant a soft kiss on his mouth. He doesn’t expect it at first, and it isn’t a full-on grope, like the last attempt.

“What was that for?” He asks softly, eyes on my mouth, making my stomach flutter.

“Thank you.” I say, searching his eyes. “It was a thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome.” He says, and I can tell that he’s still processing what just happened.

I decide to make another attempt at it and lean in. He mirrors me and leans in, and I plant another soft kiss on his lips, this time I make it last longer than the first. By his hooded eyes, as he pulls back, he enjoyed that. I try it again, kissing him full on the mouth, but still keeping it gentle and slow, and once again, he reciprocates. But this time, when he pulls back, he looks confused. “I don’t quite understand you, lass.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask in almost a whisper, not wanting to break the spell.

“Well, your moves have been rough, aggressive, almost possessive up until now. What’s changed?”

I don’t know how to answer that.

And then he figures it out. “Is this because of Clare?”

Oh...it has a name...

“No.” I lie. “I really don’t care who you’ve fucked in the past.”

“Especially since you and I haven’t fucked yet, right?” He asks, and his tone is almost condescending, even though he speaks the truth.

I swallow. “No.” Another lie. I’ve never been much of a liar, especially with my own feelings. But with Malcolm, I feel so goddamn vulnerable, I have no choice but to lie, since I don’t want him to see my truth. “Look, I just wanted to kiss you. Is that such a bad thing?”

His eyes are still on my lips. “No. I suppose not.” His eyes search mine again. “I really wish I could tell what’s going on inside that head of yours, lass.”

If only you knew...

If onlyIknew...

Malcolm brings out things in me that I never knew I had. Feelings that I don’t want to feel. Things I don’t want to do. I just want to fuck him and hope to God that that gets it out of my system. But, somehow, I know that in my heart of hearts, that that just won’t cut it. “You should go, Malcolm.” Another swallow. “You don’t want to be late for your date.” I tell him, not daring to utter the bitches’ name. Then I feel brave, since he’s still in my personal space, and not showing any signs of wanting to move. My hand goes to his neck, and I softly, gently, pull him to me. I envelop my lips on his, feeling drunk on power, as he follows my lead, like this is what he’s wanted to do all along.

The soft kiss is intoxicating. His lips are so sweet and full, and they speak to me, telling me that he wants more, and so do I. But right now, I just want to plant that seed. Give him something to think about while he sips wine with Clare, the whore. The beast that had him once, and then let him go. As our lips make a smacking noise, breaking the seal, he pulls back up and surprises me.

...he smiles.

I smile back.

“Thank you.” He says.

“For what?”

“For treating me like a human, and not like a piece of meat, for once.”

I search his eyes. The way that he said it was like a silent plea. It was like he was saying, ‘please don’t hurt me’. And I can see it in his eyes that he’s been hurt before, just like me. It scares me. It scares me that maybe deep down, he’s just as vulnerable as I am. And the scariest part is that I think he can see it. “You should go, Malcolm. Uncle Dougall will have your balls if he knows that you kept the lass waiting. Especially if it was to do a favor for me.”

He sighs, lowering his head, like he knows that I’m right, but he doesn’t want to break the spell. As he rakes a hand through his hair, he shakes his head, responding to something going on inside his head, to his own thoughts. “You’re heading to the office, lass?” He asks, as if ignoring his inner voice.

“Aye.”

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