Tempting Forever Read online

  I had not been involved in a relationship in over a year now. As business boomed and my work hours made downtime nonexistent, it was just better to keep intimate interludes casual and unattached. I knew that neither of those things was possible with Monica. If I had her, I would want all of her, all the time, forever. And that was an absolute impossibility. I did not have the emotional capacity for such things, and a sexual encounter with her was out of the question.

  Monica Stevenson would have to remain the long-legged brunette whose dark brown eyes and pouty lips visited me in my dreams from time to time.

  “Beautiful wedding,” I said awkwardly, wanting to kick myself. I could close an international deal in thirty minutes, but Monica made me act like a twelve-year-old boy.

  “It really is. I wasn’t sure about the concept when Crystal pitched it, but I think it’s perfect,” she said, looking up at me with a smile.

  “Pitched it? Are you her CEO?” I asked, loosening my tie as I grew warmer.

  “Duh. Have been since the year 2000. She knows it.”

  “Oh, I bet she does,” I said with a genuine grin. She always made me laugh with her wit and sarcasm. Monica was about as rough as a pumice stone, and yet I found her to be a breath of fresh air. Most women wanted to push themselves on me, hoping to secure a piece of my fortune, but Monica never had an ulterior motive. She was honest, outspoken, and off-limits. I had to remind myself of that.

  “So... Steve...” I was being obvious. I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what happened and why. I had also had a few more of those whiskey drinks than I should have. It took a fair amount to affect me, but I had definitely reached that limit.

  Sighing, Monica walked down a corridor to our left, lined with rooms numbered 101-121, and looked up at me. “You want to know what happened?” She sounded surprised that I should care about her personal life at all.

  Running a hand through my short dark hair, I diverted my gaze as we followed the corridor to the left again and wondered why it felt like Monica was leading the way. “Do you know where we are even going?”

  “I do. My room is over here, and I need to put on my flats. Those heels can suck it, but walking barefoot in a hotel is a little too Neanderthal even for me.”

  I chuckled and nodded. Again, her humor made me smile. “You’re funny. You know that?”

  “Naw, just honest. Oh, here I am.” Stopping at room 138, Monica rummaged through the sparkly miniature purse hanging off her shoulder and pulled out her room key. Sliding it through the door’s automatic lock, Monica pushed the door open when the handle lit up green.

  When she stepped inside, I stayed out in the hall. Never would I enter her room without permission. But when I did not follow, she turned and raised a brow. “Do I have cooties?”

  “I figured I would just wait here while you slip on your shoes.”

  “You could do that. Or, you could enjoy the mini-bar with me. It’s my goal to make Brent pay for all of it, and I can’t do it alone.”

  “Brent? Why is he paying for it?” I asked, slowly stepping inside and widening my eyes at the clothes strewn all over the floor and chair. “Damn, you’re sloppy.”

  “Not yet.” She waggled her perfectly sculpted brows and laughed at her own joke, making me grunt with amusement. “It was my bridesmaid gift. They know me better than to buy me a flask that has my initials engraved on it. I have enough of those. What I want is the booze to fill them.”

  “That sounds like a fair ask. If you insist, I shall help.” I shifted closer to her, and the scent of vanilla wafted in the air. She always smelled amazing. Being in her room felt wrong somehow and like a temptation I was destined to succumb to if I wasn’t careful. Although, Monica had never given me any indication that she was interested.

  “Oh, I do insist. If you want to know about my ex, I need more drinks.” When she plopped onto the bed, Monica’s dress crept up her thighs, and I looked away, deciding to sit on the chair beside her bed.

  “Let’s see...” Monica leaned over and opened the mini-fridge on the other side of her bed, shifting her body to avoid standing up. When her ass lifted off the bed, I saw her panties and bit my lower lip, looking away once more. Brent’s sister. Brent’s sister. I chanted in my head, over and over. Was she trying to mess with my head?

  “Tequila, or... vodka?” she asked, coming back up to a sitting position with two small bottles in her hand. Her wavy chestnut hair fell around her face, and she looked wild and sexy as hell. Brent’s sister.

  This was a bad idea. If she so much as gave me the signal, I was not sure I would turn it down... and that would be a mistake. I had nothing more to offer Monica than a one-night stand, and she deserved more than that.

  “Vodka,” I said with a hoarse voice. If I left now, she would know I was hot and bothered. I just needed to keep my cool and remind myself that I was twenty-six and not sixteen. I could handle myself.

  “Thank god,” she said with a grin, tossing me the clear bottle. “Tequila is my fave.” Twisting the top open, Monica brought the bottle to her lips and tilted her head, downing the entire shot like a pro. I did the same, feeling the burn in my stomach and welcoming the distraction.

  Reaching around her back, Monica started to fiddle with something, and I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “This... damned... bra... aha!” Reaching into the front of her dress, Monica pulled out a sexy red strapless bra and flung it onto the ground with her other belongings. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

  “I can only imagine,” I murmured, needing to shift in my seat. Goddamn. Either she was doing this on purpose, or she really didn’t understand the effect she was having on me. Was I so far in the “friend zone” that I was simply one of the girls? As frustrating as that thought was, I prayed it was the truth, for then she wouldn’t make a move I couldn’t resist.

  “Ok... Steve.” She said his name and shrugged. “He’s a jerk. He always has been. I honestly do not know why I kept going back to him. Comfort, maybe? It sure as hell wasn’t love. He was always a hothead, but when he got kicked off the police force for conduct issues, he changed for the worse. He used unnecessary force and became aggressive. I guess I felt bad for him. Maybe he had PTSD, and I wanted to support him.”

  Her calm and detached manner somehow relieved me. I worried Monica would burst into tears and seek comfort that I was unaccustomed to giving, and more worried she was in love with the asshole. I knew he was a cop, but I never knew he lost his job. Tampering with evidence to put an innocent man behind bars and using excessive force were things only a crooked cop would do. Red flags went up. This guy was bad news, and I was glad she dumped the loser.

  “I always thought he was a smug bastard,” I added.

  “Yes! He was. I hated that.” Monica leaned over the edge of the bed once more and popped back up, tossing me another vodka.

  Catching it, I cracked the lid open and shot it all down. “So... what made you decide to end it all?”

  “Honestly?” Monica opened her tequila but didn’t drink it. “Why do you care so much? You’re the only one who knows, by the way. So... we share a secret.” Winking, she drank the tequila and yelped out as it went down. “That shit burns so good!”

  I wanted to say something inappropriate but kept my mouth shut and focused on the features above her shoulders. “I care about you. Why wouldn’t I?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m just your best friend’s annoying sister. To answer your question, he cheated on me with one of the waitresses at my restaurant. I’m sort of relieved. It gave me a fool-proof reason just to be done with it. They can have each other.”

  “You are not annoying,” I said in response to her earlier comment. “But, he is an absolute fool.”

  “Oh ya? For leaving the head chef of one of San Francisco’s finest restaurants for its trashiest waitress?” She belched and smiled, and I couldn’t help but burst out in laughter. She had no shame. None at all, but I liked that abo
ut her. She was real. There was no pretense, no motives. She wasn’t trying to be some society miss worthy of my millions, like other women. My father expected me to marry within my “class,” but that was never my idea of happiness. Farringtons do not focus on happiness, my father would remind me. It was about breeding, money, and power... all the elitist bullshit I never cared about. And here was this woman, the hottest and funniest woman I had ever known, belching up tequila and flinging her bra.

  “You’re fucking incredible. Do you know that?” The words came out of my mouth before I had a chance to review them, something that never happened. My every word and move, a calculation. She made me comfortable, and that was dangerous. “I should go.” Standing from the seat, I turned toward the door.

  “So are you.” Her words stopped me in my tracks. Turning slowly, I looked at her, sitting with her long legs tucked beneath her firm ass, that fitted red dress showing off every inch of her perfect body. Standing slowly from the bed, Monica walked over and stopped in front of me.

  “What is happening?” I asked, staring into her dark eyes. They were like mirrors reflecting my own lust.

  “What do you want to happen, Chris?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and tugging on my red tie.

  Shaking my head, I swallowed hard. “We can’t do this, Monica.”

  “Do what?” she asked, loosening my tie and pulling it off.

  “This.”

  “Why not?” Her hands slid up my white dress shirt, and slowly, she undid the first button.

  “So, so many reasons.” I stepped back, keeping my hands at my sides, balling them into fists. I wanted her so bad—ached for her. But I knew this would lead to disaster.

  “Name them,” she whispered.

  “One. You’re drunk. That’s not okay with me,” I said firmly.

  Scoffing, Monica smiled and undid another button. “You don’t know me as well as I thought if you think that’s true. I’ve had two Mai Tais and two shots. That’s a Sunday morning. Try again.”

  “Your Brent’s sister,” I murmured, closing my eyes when she opened two more buttons.

  “Does Brent tell you what to do? He doesn’t tell me what to do.” My shirt gaped open, and I felt my heart beating wildly and my breath catch.

  “The wedding is still going. They will notice we are missing.”

  “We went for a walk.” She had a response for everything, and I was running out of reasons why I should not throw her on the bed, tear off her dress, and do all the things I dreamed about doing to her sweet body for so long.

  “Are you not attracted to me?” she asked, looking from my bared chest to my eyes, her fingers now gripping my belt buckle. She was a siren, and I felt myself succumbing to her call.

  “I think you know that would be an impossibility. You are stunning, Monica. But... that is not reason enough.”

  “Two people, who are alone in a room, attracted to one another, and have known one another for years, isn’t reason enough? I want you, Chris. Is that reason enough?”

  “Since when? This minute? The past hour? You have never shown interest before. I am your brother’s best friend. I spend holidays with you. I cannot give you a relationship, Monica. That’s not how my life works.”

  “I never said I wanted a relationship with you. I just want sex with you. Does it matter if I have only wanted it for a minute or a year?”

  “Jesus, Mon,” I groaned, knowing I was losing this battle. “This is... insane.”

  “That’s what makes it fun.” I felt my belt buckle loosen, heard the metal rattle, and I looked down. Why was I fighting this battle? I wanted her, wanted this. Wanted it so badly that I would likely walk with a limp for the next few days if we stopped now. Still... I should walk away.

  “Life is what you make it, Chris. We can do this or not. But you will still see me on every holiday regardless of what happens tonight. Nothing will change except that you will know what I look like naked.”

  “Fucking hell...” That was it. There was no more fight in me. She wanted this. I wanted this. We were two single consenting adults at a wedding, and this was happening.

  “Is that a yes?” she asked, raising a brow.

  “Are you going to regret this later?”

  Monica scoffed. “Fuck, no.” I heard the sound of my fly opening and looked down just as Monica pushed my black tuxedo pants down my hips. “I’ve always wanted to know if little Chris was proportionate to the rest of you,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

  “Oh, have you?” I asked, stepping out of my slacks and putting my hands on her slim waist. I throbbed for her, always dreaming of this, knowing it was a bad idea. It was likely the worst decision of my calculated life, but I would enjoy every second of it.

  “Of course, I have. You’re hot as hell, Chris. Don’t pretend you don’t know that. You’ve never imagined me naked?” Monica asked, pushing my opened shirt down my arms. My cufflinks were in the way, so I quickly flicked them off and felt my shirt slip away with them. I stood before her in nothing but my boxer-briefs, my dick harder than it had ever been in my entire life, painfully pushing against the fabric.

  “You know I have many times, Mon.” I narrowed my eyes and licked my lips. “Turn around.”

  “Yes, sir,” she purred, turning her back to me without hesitation. This was happening. She was a temptress. Never had I felt so thoroughly seduced by a woman. But she was no ordinary woman. Every inch of her was pure perfection, and if she was going to throw herself at me, I could only resist so much.

  Reaching out, I slowly unzipped her red strapless dress, watching as the fabric gaped open, exposing her smooth, flawless flesh. When Monica giggled and wiggled her ass, I groaned and slid my hands up her thighs, feeling her sweet, round ass in my palms, biting back a moan. “Jesus...”

  We were running out of time. This wasn’t how I preferred this to go down, but the reception was still underway, and every second that passed was a second of pleasure lost. “Remove your dress,” I commanded.

  Turning around, Monica raised a brow and stared me down. “Remove your boxers.”

  Without hesitation, I shoved them down my hips and kicked them off before pulling her dress over her head. Her glorious tits bounced out and stood proud, and her eyes grew heavy as she stared at my cock and chewed her bottom lip.

  I wanted to taste every inch of that lithe body, but there was no time for that, and this was a one-time deal. Ground rules needed to be set. “Nobody is to know what happens in this room, Monica. We need to get this out of our systems, and then we move on as if this never happened. Deal?”

  “Deal. Let’s shake on it.” I put out a hand, but instead, she grabbed my dick and guided me toward the bed. Already, I felt like I would lose control, but that was simply not something I would allow to happen.

  Pushing her onto the bed, she laughed and slipped off her sexy red lace panties. This woman was just as wild as I always imagined. Climbing onto the high bed, I leaned over her naked body and sucked one of her breasts into my mouth, needing to taste her. Groaning, Monica arched her back and raised her hips. “We don’t have much time, Chris,” she sighed.

  Looking down, I dragged my fingers between her thighs and groaned when I felt her slickness. “It won’t take much time. God, Monica. You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

  “No sweet talk, cowboy. Just ride me. Better yet...”

  Getting on her knees, she pushed me over and climbed on top, looking down at me with flushed cheeks as her legs straddled mine, and she lowered herself onto me.

  “Wait.”

  Monica stopped and looked down at me. “Tick-tock, cowboy.”

  “I don’t have a condom,” I said, suddenly realizing how close we had come to losing our minds.

  “I’m on the pill. You clean?”

  “Of course, I am.”

  “Good. So I am. Any more objections?”

  I hesitated, knowing this wasn’t my finest moment, but I was too far gone. The most beautiful woman in the
world hovered over me, ready to ride me, something I had dreamed of for years. “I’ll pull out,” I said in a rush, pulling her down on me, no longer able to wait. With a groan, Monica took all of me in and closed her eyes, gyrating her hips like a pro.

  “You’re so big,” she panted, leaning over so I could suck her hard, pink nipples into my mouth one at a time. “I knew you would be.”

  Grabbing her ass, I helped guide her body, slamming her down on top of me faster and faster until I thought I would lose my mind. Her flat stomach was sculpted and yet, still feminine with a tapered waist and perfect hips.

  Reaching between us, I found her clit and rubbed until she began to shudder, her body pulsing and clenching around my cock. I was going to finish any moment, but I needed to pleasure her, to make her remember the night Chris Farrington made her orgasm until she cried.

  “Oh, God!” she cried. “Yes... yes...”

  “Monica?” A banging on her door broke her rhythm, and I cursed under my breath. Slapping a hand over my mouth, she continued to move, writhing her hips.

  “Mon, are you in there?” Her fucking brother was on the other side of the door, and I was one second away from blowing a load inside his sister.

  “Yeah...” she replied, never once stopping her movements. I wanted her to slow down, to climb off me before this moment got any weirder, but she did not relent, and with my mouth covered by her hand, I couldn’t speak, nor did I dare to with Brent on the other side of the thin door.

  “We need to do the bouquet toss, and Crys won’t proceed without you,” he called through the door. “Are you all right? I thought I heard you shouting something.”

  “I’m fine!” she shouted... “My feet were hurting, and I needed... a break.”

  I bucked beneath her, turning my head, but she was stronger than she looked. “mmm cmmm...” I murmured beneath her, but she just kept moving.

  “Well, hurry up and get over to the ballroom.”

  Arching her back, Monica stiffened and shuddered on top of me. “I’m coming!” she yelled.

  Unfortunately, so was I. I felt the pressure build like a volcano ready to explode, and before I could do anything, it was too late. I finished just as Monica went limp and sighed.