Page 33 of Tempt Her

I grab a book off my desk and stroll into the parlor with one champagne flute and bottle in hand, right past the camera, until I’m out of range in the room. Gentry will think I’m reading all day long in here.

Luke sneaks in through the side entry, meeting me there as I set my stuff on an end table. I point to the settees, and he sits on one, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I thought about youalllast night,” he says. “I wanted to call you, but I figured it’s not safe.”

“It’s not.” I sit across from him, enjoying his eyes admiring me in this dress. “He monitors my phone.”

“Then that’s what I’m getting you for your birthday—a phone he won’t know about.”

What do I feel more? Gratitude or guilt?

“Luke, that’s sweet, but don’t waste money on me.”

“It’s not a waste.” His tone gets firm. “Stacey, look at me.” I didn’t realize I was looking at the floor. “Let me help. Let me get you out of this marriage before hereallyhurts you.”

“I won’t take your money, Luke. I’ll take the help, but I won’t take another dollar from another man ever again. I will sell my plasma and work any job as soon as I’m free. But not even you, with how hard I know you’re working; you don’t have the money it takes for my dad’s care until then.”

He chews his lip like he wants to offer more, but I’m not giving more of my pride away. I’m taking it back.

“Please just celebrate with me,” I tell him. “That’s all I want. I don’t want to talk abouthim. I want to spend the afternoon withyou.”

I get up and curl into his lap. Wrapped in his hulking arms, it’s odd. I’m older, but when Luke holds me—he’s the protector. And for a while, we talk about our favorite Christmases as kids and the best presents we got.

His was Matchbox cars and a puppy one year, while mine was a chemistry set and a softball mitt. Then we talk about our dream trips one day. He wants to see the Pyramids. I want to see the Northern Lights.

“I’m going to take you to see them one day,” he says.

“You just met me.”

“Yeah.” He kisses my neck. “And you just met me, so know this; I’m a man of my word.”

“I really like your words,” I sigh at his lips devouring my flesh, feeling his hand glide up my thigh. “Ireallyliked them yesterday. All the dirty ones.”

“Is that so?” He kisses the crest of my shoulder. “Is that what you want for your birthday? My dirty words?”

“Yes.” I wriggle out of his touch, moving to the tufted ottoman before him. “I want to know what dirty words you’ll say to this.” I lean back, slowly lifting the hem of my short dress. His hungry eyes follow the path of my hand, inch by inch until my bare pussy is revealed to him.

I can feel how wet he’s already making me, tingling and swelling for his wolf gaze. “Damn, Stacey,” he groans, his eyelids slanting with lust.

I spread my thighs for him. “Do you like what you see?” My clit is throbbing at his hungry aim.

He unbuttons his white pants, unzipping them while he says, “I fucking go crazy at what I see. At how you’re glistening for me, with that clit of yours getting so hard.” Pushing his pants and boxers down to his ankles, he lifts his hefty erection, making my mouth water. “See how hard you make me?”

I rub my clit for his stare. “You see how wet you’re making me?”

“Can I see it all? Of how beautiful you are?”

He means my breasts, and I know why this makes me shy. Vulnerable.

All I’ve known is a man who mauls my flesh. A man that a piece of paper says I’m supposed to be loyal to. But our contract has never felt ordained or special.

It’s felt like a punishment since our wedding night when he insisted I keep my wedding dress on. With my delicate gown around my waist and my pretty bridal bra on, I thought we’d make love. But no, Gentry fucked my tits until he covered my face, stinging my eyes with his cum, before he started laughing and left me disgraced on my knees. While he zipped his pants, he jeered, “See. Wives are just whores men own forever,” before he went downstairs to party with his groomsmen.

I suddenly realized who I just married. I started crying that night, and sometimes, I wonder if I ever really stopped.

But now, I don’t want to cry anymore. I want to keep feeling how Luke makes me feel. Beautiful. Cherished. Cared for. Sexy and powerful too.

Last night, Luke shared his fear with me. So I can share this with him too.

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