Page 3 of Tempted

I cleared my throat and sipped from my glass.

“It wasn't Gloria. Well, it wasn'tjustGloria.”

“Curtis?” Hugh asked, walking over to the bathroom door and flipping the lock.

Hugh had Char, I had Curtis. Neither of our partners really understood our work or what it was like to be a person of color in this world. How enraging just existing was in our office or at events like this. But Hugh and I had each other. We’d take a few minutes out of every day to sit and vent – about work, about life – his steady presence beside me was grounding.

I put the drink down and leaned against the sink to look at the ornate ceiling.

“He shows up so fucking late, he shouldn't have even bothered to come. And then he introduced himself as my fiancé to that woman.”

Hugh made an incredulous noise and I continued.

“Imagine! The man hasn't had a job for a year, shows up late to the only event he had planned for the day, and now he wants to get married all of a sudden.”

My voice went from conversational to a whispery screech in three seconds flat, and all that momentary relaxation I’d gained was gone.

“Okay. Okay.” Hugh walked over. Putting down his drink, he grabbed my shoulders. “Hit me.”

I startled. He gripped my waist, yanking me towards the middle of the room.

“Hit me. Kick me. Do whatever but get it out while we’re in here. You are the worst compartmentalizer I've ever met. Don't even bother trying to calm down. Just, hit me.”

Affronted, I gave him a look that read,sir, you've lost your whole mind.

“It'll make you feel better. I mean, obviously not the face.” He crossed his forearms in front of him and peeked around them at me.

“Come on, do it. Don't be a candyass,” he said, grabbing my limp arm.

A barking laugh came out of my mouth before I could stop it. I bent forward and cackled, feeling the pull from my diaphragm and the pressure in my lungs. I couldn't breathe. I looked up and saw Hugh's offended gaze before I doubled over and hit the ground, cackling.

Tears crept from my eyes as I grabbed my cramping stomach and tried to stop the laughter bubbling up. After a few seconds, I looked over to see Hugh crouched beside me waiting patiently for me to finish. His smile was gone and replaced by somethingelse that I couldn’t make sense of. I bit at my cheek and tried to take deep breaths to stop the giggles.

“‘Don’t be a candyass?’” I asked, wiping daintily at my eyes and looking down at the dress pooled around me.

“It worked, you’re not a rage monster anymore,” he said, holding out a hand to help me up.

I sighed and reached for him, teetering a bit on my heels as I gained my footing.

My fingers tightened around his biceps so I wouldn't fall on my face. They were firm, much firmer than I expected, so much so that I may have given them an extra squeeze after I gained my balance.

I dragged in a surprised breath and then laughed, trying to cover the fact that arms were apparently a turn-on for me now and his were – yummy.

“Oh, I’m a little –” I looked up to see Hugh staring down at me. Staring wasn’t the right word – he was devouring me with his eyes. My words caught in my throat, and I leaned back against the sink.

“Denise, can I ask you something?” His voice was husky. He leaned closer, resting his hands on either side of the sink, caging me in. I could smell the whiskey on his lips mixed with his sandalwood and sage cologne. His scent was a welcoming fog, surrounding me, cushioning me, and pulling me closer to him.

“Sure.” The words came out a whisper as I took in eyes the color of driftwood.

His finger flirted with the skin of my cheek and my breath caught.

Where the hell did this come from? I tried to swallow against the newly formed lump in my throat.

“Tell me you’ve never thought about me.” He moved flush against my curves.

I’d be lying if I said I never thought of him that way. Of course, I had.

Hugh was temptation.

---