Page 18 of Tempt Her

His tone drops. “We’re called something else.”

“Still.” I grin. “It’s a philosophy. Read the book I gave you.”

Then, to perfectly make my point, Stacey walks past us in that dress again. Looking like a preppy, pornified Barbie doll, she screeches to a halt at our busted stare. “Is it break time already?”

“Why, yes,Stacey, it is.” Luke goads me on, smiling at her with his face that’d turn nuns into porn stars. “Care to join us?”

This motherfucker; he’s gonna start something we all want, and it’ll be our end.

“It’s tempting, Luke.” She starts sashaying up her stairs again, and that ass?

Damn, how I want to hear her moan again. And damn if I don’t know what she did up there a while ago. The tempting tone of her voice practically put the video in my mind—Stacey, fucking her pussy with those pink fingernails until she moaned our names.

I fight my dick, ordering it not to rise because I’d show her how much control I have now. Using my tongue, I’d show herSo. Much.Gratitude.

Like she can read my mind, she glances back at me from the stairwell. “Cat got your tongue, Mateo?”

“A cat’s got nothing onmytongue,Stacey.” I can’t help myself either, and I don’t even have to look; I feel Luke’s pleasure at my tease.

Coyly, she replies, “I’ll be taking your word for it again in a few minutes.”

I see the flush down her slender neck to those tits you’d murder for before she disappears upstairs.

Goddamn, she’s gonna fuck herself again and moan our names.

Luke mumbles, “And what philosophy wasthatcomment?”

Like him, I can’t fight it either. “It’s called ‘Pussy Power.’”

Ford was right to warn us; that woman is special and wewillgetsofucked.

CHAPTERFIVE

“He wasn’t that bad, sweetie. Please don’t fret.” Ms. Carver, the head nurse on my dad’s wing, assures me as I walk through the opening sliding-glass doors with worry smeared over my face.

I love this woman.

If I could, I’d write the biggest check out of Gentry’s bank account and do everything I can for her and her kids. She treats me like I’m her daughter too.

Today, I’m right on time. It’s five forty-five in the morning, and I always wait for a nurse to go in first and open my dad’s curtains. Then I come in, humming “Cluck, Old Hen” with muffins and juice on a tray. I even try to keep my path the same every time.

“Thank you,” I sigh to Ms. Carver. “It’s the holidays and such a busy time. I hate not being here.”

She casts a look over her glasses—she knows.

She’s heard how Gentry talks to me on the rare times he joins me. I’m sure she’s also heard all his rules with the administration here concerning my dad’s care, who signs off on what, and even the staff assigned to my dad’s room. Gentry controls it all.

Honestly, I suspect... no, I know... he pays some staff to spy on me.

All the while, Ms. Carver, like most women, is smart as fuck. She knows the game I have to play.

“You know,” she motions me over, pointing to the open file cabinet beside her desk, “I keep a fresh supply from the grocery store for him on the mornings you can’t get here. I can’t replace you, but I promise, these muffins help him get by.”

“What?” Tears threaten like a burning bomb. “What does he do when you bring him those?”

“Honestly, sweetie.” She shuts the file cabinet. “He knows I’m not you. He doesn’t smile or ask questions. He just takes his muffins and juice and nibbles at them, staring out the window.”

I let my brimming tears fall because I know that place in my dad’s heart where he’s staring out the window. He did it so often after Mom died. Like he kept expecting her to walk up the driveway one day and end our lonely nightmare.

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