She’s temptation personified
Nathan had always been more than just my dad’s friend. I never thought he’d see me as an adult, especially not after avoiding me for so long. But one hug, one moment feeling every inch of him against me, shattered that illusion. Consequences no longer mattered—I was eighteen, and I was willing to risk everything for my shot with him.
He’s not going to resist anymore
I never should’ve seen Eve as more than my best friend’s daughter. As a cop, I knew it was wrong. It was my job to protect her from guys like me. Chasing her could cost me my career—not to mention the only family I’d ever known—but I couldn’t hold back another second. One taste, and I wanted her. To hell with the fallout.
How in the fuck had we gotten here? All I’d needed was an escape so I could get my dick in check. Just some goddamn peace and quiet so I could get my head in the fucking game again—remind myself why I couldn’t snatch Eve away from Shithead and claim her right there in front of everyone.
But I’d wanted to.
Christ, more than anything, I’d wanted to wipe that smug grin off his pretty-boy face. With my fist. Break every one of his fucking fingers when he’d wrapped his arm around her and tugged her into his side.
And now here she was, on her knees in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything but stare. I should’ve stopped her. If I were a better man—a stronger man—I would’ve. Instead, I watched with rapt attention as those full lips kissed the tip of my cock, her bubble-gum tongue flicking out to lick at the head.
“Let me,” she begged.
And I was gone.
I was so fucking gone for this girl.
I fumbled to set my beer bottle on the counter, then reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, gathering the long, dark strands in my hand as she continued to tease me. She licked me like a lollipop, her tongue eager and clumsy, her unpolished enthusiasm only illustrating exactly how young she was.
That thought alone shouldn’t have tightened my balls the way it did.
Mad at her for putting me in this position—mad at myself for not having the willpower to stop it—I tightened my hand in her hair. “If you’re going to do it, do it. Open up and let me slide my cock between those pretty pink lips.”
She groaned, her eyes flashing up to mine, a flush covering her cheeks. Reaching out, she rested her hands on my thighs, balancing herself. And then she did as I told her, engulfing the tip of my cock in her mouth.
The sight alone was enough to make my knees weak—her lips stretched taut around me and her sky-blue eyes staring up into mine—but combine it with the heaven that was her mouth, and I didn’t stand a fucking chance. I’d had all of seven seconds between her lips, and I already needed to go off down her throat. I was a grown man—a grown man who hadn’t gotten a blow job in months, but a grown man nonetheless. And yet I felt like I was no better than those little douchebags she went to school with who didn’t know the meaning of delayed gratification.
I knew plenty about delayed gratification.
Watching her prance around in her tiny dresses, her perky tits taunting me even in my dreams, but not letting myself do anything about it. I’d had a full year of wanting but not taking, and the deprivation was bubbling under my skin, threatening to boil over at any second.
I was so tired of wanting. I needed to have.
London Hale is the combined pen name of writing besties Ellis Leigh and Brighton Walsh. Between them, they’ve published more than thirty books in the contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense genres. Ellis is a USA Today bestselling author who loves coffee, thinks green Skittles are the best, and prefers to stay in every weekend. Brighton is multi-published with Berkley, St. Martin’s Press, and Carina Press. She hates coffee, thinks green Skittles are the work of the devil, and has never heard of a party she didn’t want to attend. Don’t ask how they became such good friends or work so well together—they still haven’t figured it out themselves.