Page 31 of Tempt Her

“Don’t think so. But I guess he will soon. That’s why I’m getting the pantry and kitchen ready. It’s gonna take the longest.”

“I’ll be home in the morning. I just booked a foursome with Claude Turner, the dickhead’s dad. We still got that bottle of Opus One? It’s his favorite.”

“Yes. I don’t touch your wine.”

“Better not,” he jeers and ends the call.

“Kid?” Luke snarls. “Fuck that little balding tick. I’m twenty-two, six foot two, with two hundred pounds of muscle on him. And the way he talks to you, Stacey? I’d never talk to a woman that way. And any man who does is moments away from hurting her with worse than words. You gotta get out.”

“Right now,yougotta get out.” It flinches my heart, fear dropping my voice. “You can’t get caught with me.”

He cups my face. “I don’t regret it. I meant it—I’ll get you out.”

“I don’t regret it either. But I won’t risk you getting punished over me because, trust me,he can.”

Time’s ticking down. Gentry will be searching the cameras for Luke. He knows it, too, asking, “How do I get out of here?”

“The camera’s not aimed this way. Just stay low. Then walk into the office like you were cleaning a brush or something in the powder room in the hall.”

He nods. He has to be used to the blind spots in the office already.

“I’m sorry.” No, I’m scared that I’m insulting Luke. “I’m sorry to make you hide like you’re the wrong one. You’re not. You’re everything right.”

“I promise,” he whispers over my lips. “I’m gonna help makeeverythingright for you.”

CHAPTEREIGHT

The next afternoon, Gentry blows in like a little tornado.

It matches how I feel.

My world has been ripped apart by Luke’s care, by his sex, and by how hard I didn’t know I could come…three times. Staring into Luke’s eyes, he conjured my darkest desires, and I don’t want my world anymore.

Not one married to Gentry.

I don’t feel like I cheated; I feel reborn. I feel like there’s hope.

That’s what Luke is to me—hope.

He makes me feel passion again in my veins, and with it comes power. I want freedom. I want love. I want sex. Yes, Luke saw it in my eyes—I want to get fucked so much and so hard. And I want Luke to keep doing it.

There’s something special about him.

Yes, he’s young, but he’s got wisdom beyond his years. Maybe it’s because he was raised by a strong mother he respects and has an older sister he admires. Maybe he’s living up to the ghost of his father, an honorable man, and that’s all Luke aspires to be.

Good people are like that, you know within hours of meeting them. Minutes sometimes.

And Luke’s so good to me; he’d never hurt me.

When I opened the front door this morning to him, my heart started pounding while I gave himthe look, “We’re not alone,” and he knew what to do. Barely touching my fingertips as he brushed past me, he went to work.

So did I.

Finding Gentry in the garage, switching out his clubs, he’s been walking around pissed that the kitchen is next, and he starts using it as an excuse to leave again.

“I can’t stand this fucking shit,” he whines like a little dick. “Fucking drop cloths everywhere. My damn office. The kitchen. A worker’s van parked in my driveway. When will he be done? And where’s the crew? I’m paying three of them to be here.”

He’s not. I read the contract; it says they’ll be done by a certain day, and Luke’s going fast, but I don’t want him ever to finish.