Sinful Desires: Vol. II Read online

  When we finally broke apart, we were both panting and I was feeling much better.

  “I'm glad you're thinking about coming back,” Brock said. He wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger and his eyes took on a teasing light. “Who knows if I'd ever find someone else as good in bed as you?”

  I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to retort, but before I could, someone behind us cleared his throat. I looked over Brock's shoulders and saw Reed standing in the doorway, his face an expressionless mask.

  Well… this had all just gone to hell.

  Chapter 9

  “May I have a word alone with Piper?” Reed's voice was flat.

  Brock looked down at me, the question in his eyes. I nodded. My stomach was in knots, but I knew if I protested, Brock would wonder why. Right now, for all he knew, Reed wanted to make sure I didn't tell Britni I'd been the stripper at his bachelor party. As much as I like Brock, I wasn't about to let him know any differently.

  “I'll wait inside.” Brock kissed my cheek. “If you want to leave when you two are done talking, we'll go. I won't ask you to stay.”

  “Thank you.” I watched him walk back into the house and close the doors, giving Reed and me privacy. Only after Brock had disappeared from my sightline did I turn toward Reed. I folded my arms and waited.

  “You slept with Brock?”

  I lifted my chin, refusing to acknowledge the blush staining my cheeks. “Not that it's any of your business, but yes.”

  A flash of hurt crossed his face. “How could you?”

  My jaw dropped and I stared at him, unable to believe he was actually asking me that question. “Are you kidding me?”

  He took a step toward me. “I told you how I felt about you and that I wanted to be with you, and then you show up with Brock? You fucked him? Was that all I was? Or are you just trying to make your way through the richest guys in Philly?”

  My fingernails bit into my palms as they curled into fists. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I crossed the distance in a few angry strides, stopping when I was barely a foot away. “You slept with me when you were engaged, then told me it was over so I'd fuck you again, then treated me like a whore. Now you're pissed because I found a guy who likes me and doesn't care who knows it. He brought me to meet his parents, for god’s sake. He wants me to move here so we can be together, not keep me in Vegas like his dirty little secret.”

  “It wasn't like that!” Reed snapped. “You don't know the whole story.”

  “I don't need to know. There's nothing you can say–”

  “My parents threatened to cut me off.”

  That stopped me, but only for a second.

  “Oh, so you didn't want to have to make your own way like a grown up. That's so much better.” My entire body was flushed and it was everything I could do to keep from slapping him. I couldn't believe the nerve he had.

  “My business is just getting started. If my parents cut me off, it'd go under and thousands of people would lose their jobs. People who put their trust in me.”

  My eyes narrowed. It sounded like he was saying he'd sacrificed what he'd wanted to save thousands of jobs, and I was supposed to accept it.

  “I don't love Britni.” He reached out his hand and I took a step back. “I want to be with you Piper, and I know you want me too. Brock is a distraction. A rebound. I get that. We can still make this work.”

  “You don't love your wife.”

  “No.” Relief flooded his face and he stepped closer. “I don't.”

  “You didn't sleep with her, then, on your honeymoon?”

  He stopped mid-step.

  I moved closer this time. The desire I had for Reed was burning away, my anger taking over. “Tell me, Reed, did you fuck your wife on your wedding night? A woman you don't love. Did you tell her you don't love her while you were inside her?” I watched the color drain from his face. “Did you tell yourself that you had to do it once, to officially consummate the marriage? Was that the only time? Did you turn away her advances or give in so she wouldn't notice? Or did you initiate, giving yourself some excuse that would let you stand there with that self-righteous look on your face acting as if I’m the one out of line for sleeping with someone I actually like? Someone who wants to be with me regardless of what it'll mean to his family.”

  He didn't say a word, but the shell-shocked expression told me everything I needed to know.

  “Go back to your wife and your loveless marriage. Fuck her, because you're never getting near me again. It's too late.” I walked past him and didn't look back, not even when he said my name.

  I still didn't know if I wanted to move back to Philadelphia and I wasn't sure if what I felt for Brock could become something more, but I did know one thing for sure. I was done with Reed Stirling.

  I was out of the house and halfway down the front steps when a hand closed around my arm, stopping me. For a moment I thought it might be Reed, and was filled with both relief and disappointment when I turned and realized it was Brock. I cursed, confused by my reaction. I didn’t seem to know what I wanted.

  “I know you like Reed,” Brock said softly.

  I started to protest, but he talked over me.

  “I don't care.” A determined expression came over his face. “I can make you forget him.”

  He took my face between his hands and pressed his mouth against mine. The kiss was gentle, not what I'd expected and it startled me into allowing it to last for a few seconds before I pulled away. I started to tell him this wasn't a good idea, that I didn't think it was fair to him, but then movement over Brock's shoulder caught my eye.

  Reed stood in the doorway, his jaw clenched, face pale. His hands were curled into fists and he looked like he was fighting the urge to come down here and punch Brock. If he had, maybe I wouldn't have made the decision I did.

  I didn't want someone who wasn't willing to fight for me, to fight for what he wanted. Brock said he'd choose me over his family. He knew I liked Reed and didn't care, almost saw it as a challenge. I looked up at him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “I don't want him,” I promised. “Only you.”

  I pulled his head down for another kiss, but I didn't let this one be gentle. I pressed my body against his and pushed my tongue between his lips. His groan vibrated through him and he pulled me tighter against his body. His tongue curled around mine and I buried my hands in his hair, fisting the thick strands between my fingers.

  When we finally broke apart, we were both gasping for air. After I'd caught enough breath to speak, I said, “Take me back to your place. I'll show exactly how over him I am.”

  To be continued in Sinful Desires Vol. 3, coming Oct 13th

  Newsletter: – Click here to get an email as soon as the next book in the series is available.

  Connect with me on Facebook: http://Facebook.com/MsParkerAuthor

  FREE BOOK: Don’t forget to check out my other book series, Chasing Perfection and Club Prive, featuring Krissy from when she lived in New York City. Right now book 1 in Club Prive is free most places. Check it out here: http://bit.ly/clubprive1

  Acknowledgement

  First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.

  A big “thanks” goes out to all my Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of my series.

  I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.

  About The Author

  M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.

  Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.

  Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or
author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.

  When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing. ☺