Pure Lust Vol. 3 Read online

  But as I slicked on lotion and donned the dress I’d saved for today, I had a problem looking at my face in the mirror. I was lying and if I looked, I’d see the lie there, stamped on my features.

  I wanted to see Edward, yeah, but I could have waited until we went back to New York. I was having fun at home, just me and Cody and my family.

  If I was being honest with myself, I’d have to admit I hadn’t really thought about my fiancé that much at all in the past week.

  ***

  “You’re sure he likes lasagna?”

  The wonderful smell of garlic, bubbling cheese and tomato sauce permeated the air and I almost wished Edward didn’t like lasagna, because then there would be that much more for me.

  “Yes, Mama,” I said, smiling at the worry on her face, but wishing she’d calm down, because I was nervous as hell myself.

  Four bottles of wine were chilling in the fridge. Cody and I had driven nearly an hour to the nearest decent-sized town to find something that would go with the meal, but we hadn’t had any luck. Then, on the way back, we’d seen a sign for a local winery and stopped there. Cody had helped pick out a red he’d assured me Edward would like. Then I’d bought some that I thought Mama would like. I was tempted to open one of those bottles now, because we both needed to settle our nerves.

  “Why are you so nervous?” Jennifer asked, stopping in the doorway and looking at me, her lips pursed.

  “I’m not,” I lied.

  “You are.” She shrugged and moved to the fridge, tugging it open. She swiped a tomato from the salad I’d just finished and smiled sunnily at my glare. “You’ve got the same line between your eyes that Mama gets when she’s nervous.”

  “I’m just…”

  The sound of a car on the driveway had me going quiet and I moved out of the kitchen into the hall, down to the door, and then onto the porch, acutely aware of each step, of the boards that squeaked, of the faded paint on the walls. The house was clean and smelled of Pine-sol. The threadbare carpet had been vacuumed and the old wooden floors had been polished.

  Yet I found myself seeing this house the same way I was suddenly afraid Edward would see it.

  That was the problem, I realized. That was why I was nervous. Why I’d been irritated. I didn’t want to see anything in Edward’s eyes but the same love I’d seen from his brother.

  It’ll be fine, I told myself. Cody was perfectly happy here.

  I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch just as the rental car came to a stop. My dad emerged from the garage, swiping a bandana across his forehead, missing a streak of grease. Of course he’d been in the garage, tinkering on the old truck he’d been trying to keep going for the past ten years.

  The doors to the rental opened, Cody emerging first, clad in his battered tennis shoes, jeans and a red t-shirt.

  Then, the passenger door opened. I saw his shoes first, highly polished. I recognized the loafers as the ones he wore on weekends. He considered them casual wear. Then he stood up and I saw him over the edge of the door, his eyes shielded by a pair of sunglasses.

  I was staring at him, but he was too busy looking around to see me.

  Since I was watching him so closely, it was hard to miss the way his mouth tightened slightly around the corners as he took in the worn, weathered edges of the home where I’d grown up.

  ***

  It was well after lunch before I managed to have more than two minutes alone with my fiancé. Even that had required literally guiding him out the door and through the backyard, through the latched gate for some modicum of privacy.

  He seemed somewhat relaxed as we reached the quiet serenity of the babbling creek, but then, who couldn’t be at peace here?

  I tipped my head back and breathed in the air, perfumed by honeysuckle and jasmine, the light softened by the crisscrossing boughs overhead.

  Holding out my hand to him, I waited for him to take it. When he did, slowly, some of the knots in my belly eased.

  “My parents like you,” I said quietly. My tone was quiet, but even I could hear the reserve there.

  When Edward closed his fingers around my hand, the relief I found was…indescribable. I didn’t know if the words I needed to explain those emotions even existed, until that moment, but then he gathered me up to him, cupping my face and staring down at me, a gentle, understanding look on his face.

  He cupped my face and held it still for a gentle, tender kiss. Warmth spread through me.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  “I know.” Leaning in, I touched my forehead to his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, and hiding my face so he wouldn’t see anything in my eyes. “I missed you too.”

  His hand slid down my back, cupped my ass and tugged me in close. Through our clothes, I could feel his cock, hard and firm, nudging against my belly. Edward’s mouth found the curve of my neck and some of the tension inside me loosened as that warmth inside me finally gave way to true heat. But when he caught the strap of my sundress and started to tug, I caught his hand.

  “Nooooo…” I said, smiling and easing away. Still gripping his hand, I shook my head. “My family, including some very impressionable nieces and nephews, are likely to come tearing back here at any minute.”

  “We can’t have that.” As his hands returned to neutral territory, I rose onto my toes and kissed him, then rested my head on his shoulder as he tugged me closer, hugging me. “Your mother tells me I’m sharing a room…with Cody?”

  “Yes.” Biting my lip, I fought the urge to fidget as I tipped my head back to meet his eyes. The big old farmhouse had plenty of rooms, but there were also plenty of people here too, with Suzanne and her family staying rather than driving the three hours home tonight. “My folks are pretty traditional. They’re not stupid, but it would probably give them a heart attack if we shared a room. Besides, there’s no place for Cody to sleep if we do that, unless we make him bunk on the couch.”

  “It’s not a problem. I’ll respect your parents’ wishes.” He smoothed my hair back from my face and leaned in, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You look happy. This trip was a good idea for you. You were more stressed out than I realized.”

  “Yes.” Relaxing back against him, I slid my arms around his waist and tried not to think about the fact that before long, I’d be back in New York, back to dealing with his mother, back to trying to find a job…back to reality, indeed.

  Chapter 13

  Back to reality…and back to this.

  I shouldn’t have answered the damn phone.

  Edward had already left for work and I’d planned to spend the day hunting for a job. If I’d left on time, maybe I wouldn’t have heard my phone ringing from the depths of my purse and I could have avoided this.

  Yeah, right.

  “So what time can I expect you?” Flynn asked, his voice deceptively casual.

  You can’t. The answer burned on my tongue, but I remembered what he’d said about the pictures. He was keeping them as a sort of blackmail, just to make sure I kept on working for him.

  The son of a bitch.

  With a muttered curse, I lifted my head up and stared at the pattern carved into the tray ceiling overhead. “I need at least two hours and I can only stay a couple hours.”

  “Not a problem. The client has been very specific about what they want and I’ve worked with her before so I’ve got a good idea about the direction I’m going in.”

  “Fine. Anything else?” I was curt, almost rude, but I didn’t feel bad about it. Not after all the shit he’d put me through.

  He started to say something else, but then stopped. “No. I’ll see you in two hours.”

  “At least two hours,” I clarified. “Might take longer.”

  “Fine, but the longer it takes for you to get here, the longer it will take for me to finish.”

  The phone went dead and I stared at it as though he’d jumped through the phone and bitten me. Or worse.

  The meaning of his
words penetrated, along with the implied threat. He’d keep me late enough that I’d be forced to try to explain to Edward where I’d been. I jumped up, rushing around to get ready. After the quickest shower on record, I made a quick grab for clothes and was out the door in under thirty minutes. I heard a member of the staff calling for me, probably to offer to get in touch with Paul, but there was no way I could ask Paul to drive me. I’d already called for a taxi.

  ***

  “I look ridiculous.” Staring at my reflection, I wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment. But it didn’t take long to figure out the answer. If it was possible, encounters with Flynn would have already killed me two or three times over. If not that first day with him, then surely that morning when I’d woken up naked in his bed.

  “You look hot,” he said, voice neutral.

  I shot him a look, but his face was set in professional lines. He could have been talking to Cody, or to a total stranger for all the inflection there. Nothing showed in his face either. His cadet blue eyes were blank, containing none of the heat I’d come to expect from him.

  Slowly, I turned my head back to my reflection. Well, it wasn’t hard to imagine that he was talking to a stranger, because I sure as hell looked like one. My own auburn hair was covered by a black wig, the cut heavy and full and every time I turned my head, the fake locks fell into my eyes. Flynn assured me it was deliberate. The hair was my disguise this time, his way of following the rule that I’d laid out: my face was not to be seen.

  But the hair wasn’t the problem.

  The problem was the clothes.

  Black leather pants looked like they’d been painted on and I was terrified that if I moved the wrong way, I’d pop out of them. They rose up just high enough that I could bend over without my ass hanging out—that’s a problem when you have a butt. Most of those low-riding styles weren’t designed for people with actual asses, but these fit like they’d been made for me. A red vest completed the outfit. It laced up the back like a corset and vee’d down between my breasts far enough to make it clear I wore nothing under it.

  “I look ridiculous,” I said again.

  “No. You don’t. You’re perfect.” Then he gestured to the backdrop. “Come on.”

  There was a sword resting against a motorcycle and I stopped short. “Please tell me I’m not sitting on that.”

  “No. It’s a prop, just like the sword.”

  The odd tone in his voice had me sliding him another look, but the hair kept getting in my eyes. Aggravated by it, I shoved it out of the way and studied him. “I’m holding the sword, I assume?”

  “Yep. The sword is kind of the character’s trademark and the bike is enchanted.” His matter-of-fact tone would’ve made me laugh if I wasn’t so annoyed. It seemed like I was always annoyed anymore.

  “Great,” I muttered, shaking my head. “An enchanted motorcycle.” Huffing out a breath, I picked up the sword and staggered a little at the weight of it. “Shit, is this real?”

  “Yes.” Some amusement threaded into his voice, but when I looked at Flynn, I figured I’d imagined it, because he wasn’t looking at me or the sword. He was checking his camera, adjusting the lights. Doing everything but looking at me. It seemed weird, but I was a far cry from being able to understand this man. I was starting to think it required a particular and specialized degree in Flynn-ology.

  He checked my position, the lights and then lifted his camera.

  “Let’s get to it.”

  Over the course of the next two hours, I grew increasingly more sore and more edgy. It wasn’t even like Flynn was doing anything either. It was just the way he was watching me. Normally, when Flynn McCreary looked at me, I had the idea that he was either pissed off at me, trying to piss me off…or picturing me naked all over again. But this…this wasn’t like that that. This was like he was trying to see inside me. Trying to understand something.

  And I didn’t like it. I had enough shit to deal with between the wedding itself, the monster-in-law, my issues with Edward not helping, Kendra’s disapproval...I didn’t need the youngest brother adding to that even more than he already had.

  My shoulders and arms were aching by the time he called it quits and I couldn’t have been happier to put the hilt of that heavy sword down. I’d always assumed photographs of people holding swords were done with some sort of plastic prop. I supposed Flynn was going for authenticity, but it didn’t make the damn thing weigh any less.

  Disappearing behind the screen, I stripped out of the hot leather and the vest, taking a moment to rest against the wall while my head pounded and my muscles quivered. A hot bath, a glass of wine…that’s what I was going to do once I got home.

  My limbs were quivering when I pulled my clothes on, leaving the costume pieces hanging up on the wall hooks. I slipped out from behind the changing screen and shrieked when I all but walked into Flynn.

  “Dammit, make a sound, would you?! You’re going to give me a heart attack!” The intense look on his face stopped anything else I might’ve said.

  “I’m sorry.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as he said it. His posture was off as he stood there with his legs spread wide, shoulders half-rounded, as though he was braced for some sort of blow. Usually, he carried his tall, lean frame in such a way that I forgot he and Edward were the same height.

  “Sorry?” Shaking my head, I asked, “For what? I mean, that night…well, you already apologized and I…”

  “Well, yeah. That, but that’s not what I meant.”

  He shifted his weight and moved closer. Automatically, I backed away until I found myself against the wall. Pressing my hand against it, I lifted my free hand and pressed it against his chest to keep him from coming any closer.

  That was a mistake.

  Just the simple act of touching him sent sensory memory exploding through me. His body moving over mine, under mine…inside mine. The feel of his cock, throbbing and pulsing as he filled me. The stark, naked hunger in his eyes as he’d looked down at me…

  His pupils spiked and flared. Slowly, he reached up and closed his hand around my wrist. But he didn’t push it away, nor did he use it to pull me closer. He just stroked my wrist, his thumb scraping across the delicate inside and even I could feel the jump in my pulse. It was as if he was touching a part much, much more intimate.

  “I’m sorry for the photos. How I made you think I’d show them to Edward. I’m not going to do that.” The words were low, rough. “I’d never do that.”

  His voice sent a shiver down my spine, because I could remember another time when he’d sounded that way. The things he’d whispered in my ear then. The things he’d done to my body.

  A hungry pulsing settled low inside me and I clenched my thighs together, hoping I wouldn’t do something stupid, like kiss him. Again. Deliberately, I lowered my gaze and stared at the engagement ring on the hand he held, the emerald flashing at me. Edward, I told myself. You’re in love with Edward.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you, Gabriella. You’re in my head, in my dreams…it’s like you’ve crawled inside my soul and I can’t get you out.”

  “Flynn…” I trailed off, uncertain what I was even going to say to that.

  I never had the chance to try, either, because he was kissing me. His tongue slid past my still parted lips and I whimpered. Fisting the hand still pressed to his chest, I resisted the urge to tug him closer, to bite down on the tongue so skillfully moving against mine.

  The passion, the heat…everything that I remembered about him…it was all there.

  And more. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something I wanted to know more about.

  But this…

  “This isn’t right,” I said, pulling back. My voice was breathless and I hated myself for it.

  I squeezed past him, needing to put distance between us. Out in the wide, brightly lit studio instead of behind the shadowed screen, I could breathe again. I shoved my hands through my hair, dislodging the pins
that had been used to help hold it in place while I’d had the wig on. Aggravated, I pulled them all out and dumped them on the nearest flat surface. I knew it made my hair all wild, but I didn’t care what I looked like at the moment.

  Turning to look at Flynn, I said, “Don’t do that again.”

  He didn’t say a word, but there was still heat in his eyes.

  My heart was pounding. I felt hot and itchy, like my skin was too small. “I love your brother,” I told him. “I love him. We’re getting married.”

  He inclined his head, but said nothing.

  “If you’re not going to show him the pictures, then give them to me.”

  “No.” He jammed his hands back into his pockets, his voice turning cool, almost icy. His eyes followed suit and the mask was back in place. “I’m keeping them.”

  “But—”

  He just shook his head, striding toward me. I tensed, but all he did was pull something out of his pocket. Slowly, I took it. It was my check for the session. I folded it and put it in my own pocket.

  He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I’m not surprised, you know.”

  “By what?”

  “That you chose him.” The smile that curved his lips didn’t reach his eyes. There was a pain there I didn’t want to see, didn’t want to understand. “But I’m keeping the pictures.”

  Chapter 14

  “That…asshole!”

  A lady on the corner gave me an odd look from the corner of her eye, but as soon as she saw that I’d noticed, she went back to staring determinedly straight ahead. The tourists next to her, though, were staring at me. I guess they didn’t have a lot of people who talked to themselves wherever they came from. There was no doubt about it, either. They were tourists. The I LOVE NYC t-shirts were a dead giveaway, along with the cherry red sunburns.