Wild Temptation (37 page)

After resting my forearms against the ledge, I lean forward, poking my head out like it’ll increase my viewing pleasure. In reality, I just want to feel the river breeze against my cheeks.

The sound of the dark red curtains closing fills my ears. I look to the side and see Tyler pulling them toward me. He releases them and they hang on either side of my body. He shrugs off his suit jacket and rolls up his shirtsleeves before climbing on the seat behind me.

My lips pull to one side when he lifts my arms and links our fingers before setting our entwined hands back down on the ledge. He rests his chin on my shoulder and watches the city as it goes past.

His body is hot leaning against mine. It completely blocks out the coldness of the evening—but I’m not sure I’ve even registered it fully. I’ve been so focused on Tyler and the incredible views as we’ve gone along the River Seine.

And now… Now, this moment is more intimate than most. It’s something very real. There’s something very enticing in the way he holds me. It’s comforting. Safe.

“Not bad, huh?” he asks softly. “Pretty good convincing if you ask me.”

“Aha.” I tap the back of his hand with my fingers. “But I didn’t ask you, and I’m not telling you. A woman has to have her secrets, you know.”

“I’ll give you that.”

He turns his face toward mine and kisses down my jaw, the tiny kisses making my heart flutter. His lips find my neck and make their way down there to the hollow of my shoulder then back up to my ear. Now my heart isn’t fluttering—it’s thumping. It’s thumping so fucking hard that I’m sure he can feel it against his arm.

“You’re so easy to turn on,” he murmurs against the tender spot beneath my ear. “It’s like I can flick a switch on your body and you’re ready for me.”

He nibbles my earlobe and I sigh, dropping my head back.

“Oh, no.” He lets go of one of my hands and pushes my head back up. “See the bridges? You didn’t notice before, but the French like to stand on them and watch the boats go by. They wave to the tourists and the natives on the boats.”

“So?”

“So you don’t want them to know what I’m going to do to you. Or do you?”

My breath catches. “That depends what you’re going to do to me.”

He lets go of my other hand and looks at his watch. “How many times do you think I can make you come with my tongue in ten minutes?”

Now my breath really does catch. My lungs burn with the pressure inside them. From the pure, sweet, torturous anticipation of what he’s threatening.

“You wouldn’t.” The words rush out on an exhale. I spin my head round to look at him when he moves.

The hot, sexy glint in his eyes tells me that he would. He will. And he’s going to.

He slides down the chair and positions his face beneath me. Holy fucking shit. He’s actually going to. He’s going to lick me while I’m hanging half out a window in the center of Paris.

He trails his finger up my thigh deliciously. Shivers cascade through me at the gentle touch, and I instinctively part my legs when he touches my panties. It takes him two seconds to move the soft material to the side and run his fingertip along my opening.

“For someone who doesn’t believe what I’m about to do, you’re awfully turned on by the idea.”

Before I can respond, he flicks his tongue against me. My hips jolt, simultaneously pushing into him and away from him.

“Remember. People can see you.” He runs his hands up my thighs to my ass. “I don’t share well, Liv. That means no noise. None of that sexy-as-fuck moaning you do when you’re about to explode. The only person who should know you’re coming is me.”

His tongue is quicker than my words yet again, and he tugs my hips down for easier reach. God, his tongue is rough against my clit and soft against my folds, hard and gentle at the same time.

He runs his tongue along me, and I bite the inside of my lip. I swallow a gasp. No, no. Can’t let it go. I inhale sharply through my nose instead, and I’m rewarded with a gentle smack on my ass. I guess that isn’t allowed either.

I want to screw my eyes shut, to revel in nothing but the feel of his tongue exploring my pussy. I want to think of and feel nothing, but the sensations he awakens in me—the flood of heat, the rush of delight, the build of pleasure.

“This isn’t a bed,” I whisper, propping my chin on my hands so it looks to everyone else like I’m simply enjoying the view.

“I forgot to mention”—he sucks on my clit and I tense all over—“It doesn’t really matter if we’re not in bed. If I want you somewhere, I’m going to take you. And you’re going to let me.”

He slips one finger inside me and sucks on my clit again. It hits me like a lightning burst. My teeth clamp down on my lip so hard that I taste blood. Every fiber of my being goes into staying silent and not dropping my head to the boat like I want to.

God, I want to shout.

“One.” His lips brush against me with the simple, short word. “And still six minutes left. How do you fancy my chances for giving you another two?”

My eyes widen. Oh, hell fucking no. I’m not going to be able to cope with that.

A gentle buzz fills the air.
Oh, seriously hell fucking no.

“Oh my god,” I breathe as he inserts the tiny bullet into my pussy.

“Surprise.” He laughs once then flicks my clit with his tongue.

He massages me slowly—too slowly but too fast. He moves the bullet inside me in rhythm with his tongue. I count seconds as the intensity overcomes me. In roughly ninety seconds, I fall apart once again.

“Two.” Amusement goes right through his tone.

He runs the bullet along me to my clit. It’s almost painful against the tender spot. I can’t bite down on my lip anymore—it’s in shreds. Instead, I bite the side of my hand, my thumb twitching with the pressure on my skin.

We pass under a bridge at the same moment Tyler circles my clit with the bullet and fucks me with his finger. He was right—people are lined along it and waving. I shake my hand awkwardly, desperately trying not to release the pressure inside me fully.

I’ve never wanted to scream, cry, or shout more than I do right now. I’ve never wanted to let the world know that I’m about to experience a crazily painful yet erotic orgasm in fucking public.

My eyes flutter shut, but I force them open. I’m breathing hard and fast through my nose, the frantic rise and fall of my chest thankfully obscured by my arms. I want to come.

I need to come. I need to end this, because I can’t take it anymore.

“Please,” I hiss through a clamped jaw. “Ty, please.”

With my words, he turns off the bullet. He obviously drops it somewhere because he wraps his fingers around my thighs and stretches his tongue along me. That one touch, the physical connection, is all it takes to shatter the tension inside.

Somehow, I don’t make a noise. My eyes are watery, my throat raw, my whole body shaking, but I don’t make a noise. I ride his tongue, letting the orgasm overcome me, consume me.

“Three,” Tyler whispers, moving from beneath me. “And I have ninety seconds to spare. How about that?”

I smile and wipe quickly with a napkin. I drop back on the seat, the dirty napkin in my palm, and close my eyes. “That was mean,” I whisper, incapable of anything else.

He leans over me, his hand sliding up my cheek and into my hair. “Look at me.”

I force my eyes open.

“No. It was what you wanted. If you didn’t, you would have said no.” He lowers his lips to mine. “I respect ‘no,’ Liv. I don’t respect ‘oh my god.’ In fact, I take the latter as one hell of a fucking compliment.”

“It is most definitely a compliment.” I smile wearily. “But where the hell did the bullet come from?”

He grabs it from the floor with a smirk and tucks it into his pants pocket. “Black trousers hide a multitude of sins, luckily for us.”

“Black is slimming.” I sit up straight and tuck the napkin into a pocket of my purse. “What?” I ask at Tyler’s amused look. “You think I want some waiter touching a napkin covered in my come?”

“I’m not amused because you’re putting it in there. I’m amused because you’re learning.” He grins against my lips. “If your knickers are uncomfortable, there’s a home in my pocket.”

“Speaking of that, what happened to my other pair?”

He takes my hands and pulls me to standing. His arms circle my waist, holding me against him, and his mouth settles by my ear. “They’re in my drawer, washed. So the next time you come over and I feel obliged to tie you up somewhere, you have a clean pair for after.”

I look up at him through my eyelashes. “Is that a promise to tie me up again?”

His eyes flash with desire. “It’s a certainty, baby girl.”

My best friend is beautiful. That is a fact that should be stated before all else, if only because she’s the kind of woman who looks great in sweatpants and a tank top with soup spilled down it.

But right now, she looks incredible.

The white-lace gown hugs her figure to perfection—if you ignore the pins at her waist. The train is modest, nothing flashy, and the simple sweetheart neckline shows just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it’s trashy.

“What do you think?” She runs her hands across her stomach and down.

I swallow hard. “I think it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Tears fill my eyes.

“Oh my god. Don’t you dare fucking cry!” She gasps. “I don’t want to cry. I hate crying. Dammit, Liv! You’re making me cry!” She covers her face with her hands.

“I can’t help it.” I stand and hug her tightly. “You look incredible. We’re gonna have to get a defibrillator on standby for every man at the wedding.”

She snort-laughs. “Only a defibrillator, eh?”

“For Aaron, I’m pre-booking an ambulance.” I pull back with a teary smile. “It’s better than I imagined. Seriously. Wow.”

It is. I’ve never seen a dress more perfect—and the white against her lightly tan skin and dark, curly hair is startlingly bright.

“Okay. I’m getting changed now that it’s fitted because I don’t want to cry anymore.” She sniffs and wipes under her eyes as she trots to the dressing room.

How is it?

Tyler texts.

I’m crying,

I reply with my own sniff.

That bad, huh?

Shut up.

I have a surprise for you.

Oh, no. I still remember last night’s “surprise.”

Don’t you forget it, bitch. I can recreate in any number of places. In fact, I have a list on my phone.

For real?

No. But it’ll only take me a minute. I can even text it to you if you like.

I smirk and shrug to myself.

You have me intrigued.

Give me two minutes.

What about the surprise?

Ask your best friend.

Ask my best friend? Why do I feel like everyone conspires against me? Oh, that’s because they do. Fucking hell.

Dayton steps out from the fitting room in a skin-tight cream dress. Fitting, given the morning’s activities.

“Hey,” I say to her as we step outside. “You look a little porky. Anything you wanna tell me?”

She levels a hard look on me. “Don’t even pull that. I still have two months on this fucker.” She taps the inside of her upper arm through her red coat. “I’m refusing to negotiate until there’s three weeks left.”

“You could get it out early.”

“After the pain it took to put it in? No, Liv. That pain was for five years, not four years, ten months, and Aaron’s pestering.”

I get in the car after her. “That bad?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. I want it. I do. I’d love to have a family with him, but we just found each other again. I mean, it’s not like my ovaries are standing and tapping their wristwatches. I want to be us for a while before we add someone else. We have that time. He gets that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own wants. Maybe I’ll go on the pill or something after the implant. Something we can stop right away.”

“I get that. It makes sense. You have forever.”