Page 11 of Tempt Her

“Dude,I’mdoing the trim today.” That’s Luke’s deep, scratchy voice.

“That’s whatshesaid.” I chuckle at Mateo’s baritone joke.

Slowly, while I peel a carrot, I’m softly smiling at the sound of the fun they’re having. I can’t tell you the last time I joked around like that. That used to be me. I used to be confident and silly; I remember that girl inside me.

Their fun is contagious, and,fuck Ford, another asshole’s not ruining my day.

I double my muffin recipe, and in thirty minutes, my confidence returns as I fill a serving tray for my house guests.

“Gentlemen, would you like a quick break?” I ask, carrying the full tray into the dining room.

Luke’s smile is instant, making mine lift too.

Mateo quickly reaches to help me with the tray. “Yes, ma’am.” He sets it on the dining table covered in plastic. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I ignore Ford, keeping my eyes on the two lovely, hot men—not the mean, cold one.

But Ford taunts, “Thanks for yourservice, Mrs. Evans,” taking a warm muffin as the others do too.

It’s salt, stinging my open wound as I smile so big at him, cooing, “Why, you’re welcome, Mr. Alexander.” But as every Southern woman is trained, my eyes say, “Fuck you with a rusty chainsaw, asshole.”

“Damn, these are good.” Luke talks with his mouth full. Ford snaps him a look. “Sorry, sir,” Luke mumbles. “Excuse my language, please, ma’am.”

“I don’t fucking care.” I laugh. “Fuck, shit, hell, pussy, damn: say whatever you want in my house.”

Ford’s eyes slice toward the camera by the front door, monitoring all who enter.

Well, at least the sexy shithead is observant.

“It’s video only,” I tell him. “No audio. So y’all can curse and carry on. Play music, too, when it’s just me. I like it. It’s usually too quiet around here.”

“No music.” Mateo wipes his mouth with a napkin from the tray. “We never agree on what to play.”

Luke reaches for another muffin. “‘Cuz your jazz can tranquilize an elephant.”

“And your pop crap makes me lose IQ points,” Mateo jokes reaching for another muffin, too.

But I’m meant to catch it. How Ford neatly wipes his mouth with a napkin after only one. Like he ate it just to barely be polite to “the senator’s wife.”

“You can eat another muffin.” So I poke the polar bear. “They’re good for you. I sneak vegetables and fruit into them.”

“Nah, Ford’s not amuffinman.” Luke laughs. “He’s aglazing-a-donutman.” Mateo chokes, and Luke quickly corrects, “I mean, he’s aglazed-donutkinda man.”

But I caught the naughty slip, wanting in on their banter. “Why… is that so?”

Ford thinks he can intimidate me? He has no idea what I’m used to.

Turning my pageant smile again to Ford, I bat my lashes. “Do you now? Do you like making creamy glazed things to eat, Mr. Alexander?”

Luke snorts while Mateo quietly chokes again, and I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but this is amusing. Thrilling. Dangerous. Fun.

Like I used to be.

Ford’s grin doesn’t reach the heat in his eyes. “My menknow exactly what I like in my mouth.” Yanking a strip of painter’s tape off the roll like he will bind me with it, his cocky mouth steams up my inner thigh. “What about you,Mrs. Evans?” It finds that lonely, screaming nub on my body as he looms over me. “Do you enjoy servingmy men?” The blue in his eyes flicks it with delight. “Do you like serving your warm goodies to me? On a tray for all of us to eat?”

Oh my god, his innuendo.

Holy fuck, he smells like clit bait.

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