Page 131 of Tempt Her

It never gets old; the pictures we text Luke are like a daily journal. It’s gonna make one helluva photobook if we ever print them one day.

Though we miss him, we’ve settled into a happy life. Getting this store ready keeps us busy. And you’d think we’d come home exhausted by the end of the day and crash into bed.

But when you’re surrounded by glass dildos, expensive vibrators, cock rings, leather paddles, and more exquisite lingerie than you can shake a feather body tickler at… you usually go home horny as hell.

Truth is, we don’t always make it home. That’s what the third floor is for.

The first floor is discreet, with an elegant parlor and a cozy receiving room. An antique desk for checking in and out stands by the large double front doors. A gourmet kitchen and sunroom are at the back of the house. They’ll be perfect for entertaining too.

Then there are the grand stairs in the center of the house that wind up to the second floor. It’s full of lavish rooms and naughty thrills to buy. They’re all under sparkling chandeliers that gleam over polished wooden floors, plush ivory velvet chairs, billowing curtains, and luxe black leather settees here and there.

I ensured “sexy” is the design motif for every square foot of my new place.

The third floor is where we currently “test” the products. Soon, we’ll give demonstrations.

And I chew my lip in anticipation of the first one.

Our neighbor down the street is the Charleston Mercier Hotel. The owner, Luca Mercier, has already made the introductions. He’s friends with Redix, Cade, and Silas. Luca and I briefly met at the thirtieth birthday party they threw at the private sex club months ago.

That night, I was busy getting to know the owner of the club, Ms. Faye. We’ve formed the perfect business collaboration. Sex shop + sex club =verysatisfied customers.

All while, Luca was busy fucking the hell out of some stunning woman with auburn hair and tattoos.

At first, Luca’s visit to my shop was friendly. We sipped mint juleps while I gave him a pre-opening tour.

We chatted about the surrounding businesses, and Luca was full of gossip, his lush accent making everything sound more salacious. I think it’s French because he sure ain’t from around here.

He’s an enigma, a luxury hotel chain owner, and one of the most eligible billionaire bachelors. Luca could seduce a corpse, but he doesn’t date. He mentioned his daughter, and how they live in the hotel his family has owned for over seventy years. He wasn’t flirting when he offered to help me around town because he knows everyone.

But on the third floor, when he spotted the lounge with a black sex bench, matching leather sex chaises, and the sex swing hanging from the ceiling along with various gold hooks and chains, he wasverycurious.

With a coy grin, black hair, and piercing, primal eyes, he asked, “Do you sell some of this?”

“Yes,” I answered him. “We’ll be giving demonstrations too.”

He licked his pillow lips, asking, “May I have the first one after your opening?” And you’d fuck Luca Mercier on CNN Headline News and not care. “A private demonstration so that I may bring a special friend?”

My pussy and mouth purred, “Yesssss.”

By the look in Luca’s captivating eyes, I could tell it’s not me he wants—it’s this “friend” he’s seducing.

And Ford’s so eager to demonstrate his new skills at rope bondage. He’s been practicing with Mateo and me. I’m such a bad student because “sex model” is the only model behavior I care to exhibit.

But right now, Mateo keeps us on schedule, warning, “She’ll be at the house in two hours.”

Ford grabs the last empty shipping box from the floor, growling, “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“You wanted this,” I remind him. “And she’s going to love you.”

“She’s going to hate me.” Ford’s sweating and it’s not from the late September heat.

“Your daughter wrote you back and said shewantsto meet you. If she hated you, she never would’ve replied.”

“Yeah, she wants to tell me what a fucking asshole I am for abandoning her for eighteen years.”

“You didn’t abandon her.” Mateo flicks off the lights.

“Yeah, I did.” Ford rips the last box, shredding it for recycling and his fury. “Don’t fucking sugarcoat it. She should hate me.”

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