Текст книги "Sinful Longing"
Автор книги: Lauren Blakely
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SINFUL LONGING
BY LAUREN BLAKELY
Copyright © 2015 by Lauren Blakely
LaurenBlakely.com
Cover Design by © Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations
Photography by Steph Bowers and Shutterstock
Ebook formatting by Jesse Gordon
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy sexy, emotional, romance novels with alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ALSO BY LAUREN BLAKELY
ABOUT
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
COMING SOON!
TEASER OF EMERALDS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CONTACT
ALSO BY LAUREN BLAKELY
The Caught Up in Love Series (Each book in this series follows a different couple so each book can be read separately, or enjoyed as a series since characters crossover)
Caught Up in Her (A short prequel novella to Caught Up in Us)
Caught Up In Us
Pretending He’s Mine
Trophy Husband
Stars in Their Eyes
Standalone Novels
BIG ROCK (Early 2016)
Mister Orgasm (2016)
Far Too Tempting
21 Stolen Kisses
The No Regrets Series
The Thrill of It
The Start of Us
Every Second With You
The Seductive Nights Series
First Night (Julia and Clay, prequel novella)
Night After Night (Julia and Clay, book one)
After This Night (Julia and Clay, book two)
One More Night (Julia and Clay, book three)
Nights With Him (A standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)
Forbidden Nights (A standalone novel about Nate and Casey)
Playing With Her Heart (A standalone novel about Jill and Davis)
The Sinful Nights Series
Sweet Sinful Nights
Sinful Desire
Sinful Longing
Sinful Love (2016)
The Fighting Fire Series
Burn For Me (Smith and Jamie)
Melt for Him (Megan and Becker)
Consumed By You (Travis and Cara)
The Sapphire Affair
A two-book series releasing Summer 2016
ABOUT
He’s the inked brother. The one you’re wondering about. The bad boy of the family.
Colin Sloan has a past. He’s done things he’s not proud of, but he’s living differently now. Making changes in his life. Working hard, working out harder, and trying to win over one woman. He’s utterly crazy about Elle Mariano, and though the sex is epic, their friends-with-benefits arrangement just isn’t cutting it anymore. He wants all of her, and is determined to prove he’s what she needs in her life.
Elle is fiery, loyal, and in major lust with Colin Sloan. He’s everything she craves in a man—smart, sexy, kind—and a rock star between the sheets. But his past hits too close to home for her, and the people she has to protect. There isn’t room in her life for a relationship with Colin. Especially when she’s forced to keep a secret that could tear his family apart…
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Jen, for going
the distance on this series, and, as always,
to my dear friend Cynthia.
CHAPTER ONE
The Night of the Community Center Beethoven Benefit…
The sparrows were a treasure map, weaving a path from her right shoulder blade, along her sexy, elegant neck, then curving into her hair. Rich, chestnut hair he longed to have his hands in.
Preferably tonight.
Because… Well, why the hell not?
Especially since he’d learned to read her moods, and she was in that kind of a mood. As for him? Every time Colin was near Elle he was in that kind of mood.
This very second more so than usual, because her arms were wrapped around him in a triumphant hug, and she was exhaling big sighs of relief, and laughing, too, a buoyant sound, like bells. “I can’t believe this happened,” she said, breathless. “It feels like a dream.”
“I didn’t doubt it for a second. We’re all behind you,” he said, stealing a quick inhalation of the utterly enticing vanilla-honey scent of her shampoo.
She broke the embrace, but not the contact. She parked her hands on his shoulders, her fingers curling on his suit jacket. Her hazel eyes shone with happiness and a hint of joyful tears. “I know, and I’m so grateful,” she said, her voice threatening to break. “But you just don’t know ’til it happens if you’re going to raise enough money, and I’ve been working on this for two years. Two solid years to finally get the funds to expand the center. It needs it so badly. I felt like I was holding my breath for the last month, hoping we’d make it. I have so many plans.”
“And now you can take a breath because you made it happen,” he said, beaming. She’d been driven in her mission to rebuild the broken-down community center, and he was damn pleased to be one of the donors supporting it. His venture capital firm had contributed significantly to the haul.
She wiped her fingertip under an eye, erasing the evidence of that tear. She shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes seemed to light up with the spark of an idea. “Colin,” she whispered, as if they had a secret. And admittedly, they did. “We have to celebrate tonight.”
He could think of a few ways.
Unknotting that hair.
Roping his fingers through it.
Kissing her neck ’til she fell apart in his arms.
“Do you want to? After the event?” she added in that conspiratorial tone. “I don’t have much time, but we can manage something.”
He scoffed. “What kind of question is that? Do you take me for a man who doesn’t want to celebrate with you?” He was ready to rattle off a litany of suggestions. Anything to prolong the evening with her, especially since she’d changed her tune from earlier, when she’d called him incorrigible and told him to stop all this flirting. Now, her hands were on him again.
Elle was a seesaw when it came to him, and he’d learned to both deal with it and try to catch her on the upswings in his friend and now-and-again lover. Colin Sloan was a man who knew how to sniff out opportunity. He wasn’t letting the opportunity in this giddy exuberance of hers slip away from him tonight.
“Not at all. You look like a man who wants to play poker with me tonight,” she said, with a sexy arch of her eyebrow.
“The chips are on me,” he said, glad that she wanted to cozy up to the tables, since they were like oysters for Elle—a bit of an aphrodisiac. By no means was Elle a high roller; the baby tables, as she called them, were her idea of a good time. Besides, the last time he’d had his hands on her was after she won a round of poker. She was a Vegas girl at heart, and winning amped up her adrenaline.
“I believe you just convinced me,” she said in a flirty voice. God, he loved that tone. He fucking ate it up.
“A little poker. A little buffet. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll take you for some late-night roller rink action, too,” he said with a wink, rattling off some of her other favorite things.
She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, that’s just not fair. That’s like putting steak out for a dog and not letting him have it.”
“Did I say you couldn’t have it? You know I’ll give you everything.”
She pursed her lips, as if she was considering his offer. Maybe all of it, from the evening to the everything. “Fine. I’ll take the steak you’re dangling.”
He rubbed his hands together. “It’s well done. You’ll like it.”
She laughed then tipped her head to the stage. “After the Beethoven. Obviously, I’m not skipping out early on an event for the center I run.”
“You think that might look bad?” he asked, deadpan.
She crinkled her nose. “Just a little.”
He held out his hands, playfully relenting. “Fine, we’ll be good a little while longer.” He brushed a strand of that chestnut hair over her ear, watching her shiver as he touched her. Why did she have to pull him in and then push him away? Let him get close then shove him off? Hot. Cold. On. Off. That was her style.
But he knew why she did it, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about his past. He was the black sheep, and she didn’t date black sheep. She’d made it one hundred percent clear from the get-go that they could never be a real couple, so he’d settled on what she would give—her body.
With a hand on her lower back, he guided her through the crowd to the fourth row and gestured to the first two chairs. “Why don’t you sit in my lap?”
She rolled her eyes, then tapped his shoulder. She was terrible at sticking to her own rules about not touching him. He loved the lack of restraint in her. “I told you, we need to stop flirting.”
“Yeah, you did,” he said with a shrug as they took their seats. “But it’s impossible. I can’t be inside a ten-foot radius and not flirt with you. If you need me to stop, you should kick me out now.”
She gathered up the silky material of her dress, adjusting it as she crossed her legs. Tilting her head toward him, she lowered her voice and confessed. “You know kicking you away isn’t my strong suit, either.”
As the opening notes of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony floated through the ballroom at the Venetian, Colin settled in beside Elle Mariano, the woman he’d wanted for the last year, since the first day he’d met her. The woman he’d been lucky enough to have in his arms a few times. Each encounter stoked the flames for another. Every second with her made him want her more. But she eluded him. For reasons his head understood. For reasons his heart girded to battle.
As the violinists poured forth rich notes, quickly shifting from a slow to a fast tempo, his own advice came to him.
Something he occasionally advised startups to do.
Don’t give up.
He’d respected her relationship no-fly zone, but what if he tried a new approach? What if he aimed to win her heart by wooing her body?
She’d held up the stop sign on dating. But don’t tell a man who wants to climb Everest that he can’t do it. Nothing will motivate him more. Elle was his Everest. Not just having her, but having all of her. He’d keep trying. Keep scaling. Keep climbing.
He’d find a new way up the mountain.
He wasn’t going to give up on her. Hell no. He was going to show her the time of her life in bed, and out of it.
Tonight would start with the bedroom.
CHAPTER TWO
His hip.
She was dying to see the new tattoo on his hip. And lord knew, she wasn’t a hip woman. But she couldn’t stop wondering what it looked like.
Because…his body.
His gorgeous inked body was her kryptonite.
All through the evening, as the symphony played, her mind kept returning to what Colin had told her earlier. He’d acquired a new tattoo, and he said it matched her favorite one on him. As she pictured the simple black lotus design on his right pec—the fine lines and details, the interlocking leaves of the lotus flower—a ribbon of heat unfurled in her chest, tracing a dangerous path from her breasts to her belly and down, down, down.
Warming her up.
Turning her on.
She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the music. Surely Beethoven never had these problems. But Elle? No such luck. Elle Mariano had an affliction, one she’d suffered from since she was a teenager. She liked boys too much. Now, she liked men too much. She liked dangerous men. Risky men. Tattooed men.
Like Colin.
She liked him way more than she should.
But she had no room in her life for this kind of longing. No room in her head for thoughts of how he looked when he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, button by tantalizing button, revealing the body that visited her in all her bedtime fantasies. His. She would spread open the shirt, run her hands over his chest, and kiss and lick and nip that lotus tattoo, trace each fine line in it with the tip of her tongue.
She wanted what she couldn’t have, and she most definitely couldn’t have him, even though her body begged to disagree; it pulsed for this man by her side, just as it had since the day last year when he’d walked into her office at the community center, offering to volunteer.
Instant chemistry.
Desire in a bottle.
It had only grown stronger the more she knew him and talked to him, making it harder and harder to keep him at bay. That was the problem. The big problem. She had to draw boundaries with him. She’d made promises—being with him would break them. He was a line she couldn’t cross. He was a risk she couldn’t let herself take.
He rustled in the seat next to her, inching closer as the music crested. His sexy scent drifted under her nose. He smelled so fucking good. Like sex in an elevator. Like hot kisses on her neck that made her writhe.
“Do you like the music?” he whispered, his lips so close to her skin. Goose bumps rose on her flesh as she blinked open her eyes.
She nodded, trying desperately to let the violins and cellos, the flutes and bassoons, the sophisticated sounds floating from the stage, guide her thoughts to a sweeter, purer shore. To let the music take her away from these primal, base notions traipsing through the dirty meadows in her head. For the last month she’d done a good job resisting him, keeping him at an arm’s length after she’d fallen into his arms again one night after a round of poker at the Wynn. Winning had excited her. He had excited her.
She would do better tonight.
Right?
Right.
She sneaked a peek at him, taking in the face she knew well. Strong cheekbones. Lightly stubbled jawline. Dark hair, nearly black, and so damn soft. Brown eyes, like chocolate. Sculpted lips that had kissed her many times. A body built by rock climbing, and hiking, and white water rafting, and Ironman triathlons, and oh God, why did she have to slam into his orbit tonight? She should have come alone to the benefit. She should have brought her sister. Her mother, even.
He raised a hand to adjust his tie—he was always doing that, as if ties weren’t his thing—and her gaze settled on his fingers.
Magic fingers, she called them. She knew what they could do to her.
“Yes, I like the music,” she said, trying to center herself.
“I do, too,” he said softly, then stroked his chin. “It’s beautiful. And it reminds me of something.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What does it remind you of? Some other piece of music?” She hadn’t known him to be a classical fan. He was rock, alternative, and indie music all the way.
He shook his head. “Not music. But something else I enjoy. Trying to remember exactly what.”
“Tell me,” she whispered, her curiosity now piqued. Her eyes met his. She searched those dark brown irises, as if she could find the answer there.
The sounds from the stage grew louder. “Wait. I think I know.”
She widened her eyes, and held out her hands as if to say tell me now.
“Turn back to the stage. It helps me think.”
She shot him a look, because that made no sense. Shrugging, she returned her focus to the musicians and the victorious sound of the final movement of Beethoven’s Ninth.
“Ah, that’s it,” Colin whispered. “Now I remember. It reminds me of that thing you like so much.”
That thing.
His fingers gently traveled up her neck. A small gasp escaped her lips. “Your neck. The way you move when I kiss you right here,” he said, stopping to trace the outline of one of her birds with the pad of his thumb. She nearly moaned out loud. Elle was convinced every woman had a spot on her body that melted her from head to toe when touched the right way by the right man.
For Elle, it was her neck.
“How you sound when I touch your shoulder,” he continued, letting his fingers graze her collarbone. Her bones turned liquid. Any ounce of resolve still left in her evaporated. She could say it was the thrill of the night, that it was the joy of hitting a massively vital professional goal, or perhaps it was the fact that no one had made her feel this way in years.
But none of that was true.
It was him. He just did something to her.
A shiver rolled down her spine. “No, it doesn’t sound like that at all,” she said, trying faintly to deny the way she responded to him.
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, it does. Just listen to that crescendo. It sounds like you when I– ”
She grabbed his thigh and dug in her nails. The contact silenced him, but reminded her of how much she liked contact with him.
Great job, Elle.
Being so close to him was an injection of lust in her bloodstream, and Elle knew what happened when she was ruled by lust. She knew it well, and she had the lifetime of upended choices to show for it.
Not that she regretted anything in retrospect.
Not one bit.
But she was older and wiser now. Wasn’t she?
She must be, because that wisdom was jostling its way to the front of her brain, trying to strike a deal with her body. They’d tangoed, they’d played—they’d done plenty. But she’d only fully had this man a few times. Maybe one more time and she could finally eradicate him from all her thoughts, from the dirty dreams that lasted all night and lingered too long during the day. She could say good-bye to these rampant hormones, and concentrate on her job, her family, and her promises.
There was no reason not to enjoy the final minutes of this evening to the fullest. One last night of passion, then she could move on from this turbulence of longing that engulfed her every time Colin Sloan was near. Let go of the longing, let go of him.
She couldn’t have him in her life, but she could have one more night.
The concert ended, and the crowd applauded; their clapping and cheering rang through the ballroom.
Seize the night. She turned to face him. Arched an eyebrow. Took on his challenge.
Forget poker. She had other plans now. “So what’s the new tattoo, Colin? You ready to show me?”
His eyes glinted with desire and satisfaction. “I will be after I take care of you first.”
CHAPTER THREE
Moonlight bathed the patio at the Venetian. Slivers of silvery light reflected on the turquoise waters as he led her across the terrace to a secluded corner, behind planted palm trees, low stone walls, and hedges that framed the array of small pools.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He nodded to the farthest corner, which boasted a tented cabana. “The after party for the benefit will be here on the private pool deck. But it doesn’t start for a little while, so it’s all ours for now.”
“Except for the bartender setting up, and the waiters and waitresses,” she whispered, gesturing to the bar they’d passed near the front entrance of the deck.
The patio was lush with greenery and fountains, like a New Orleans hotel courtyard. A warm July breeze stirred the foliage as Colin walked past, focused intently on his goal. He’d spotted the cabana only seconds ago, when they’d entered the pool area. He hadn’t mapped out a location for an evening tryst. If he had, this would never have happened. With Elle, he had to take things as they came, moment by moment.
Luck and improvisation were his companions when it came to this woman.
That, and privacy. The cabana was all the way on the other side of the deck, away from the set-up crew.
Glancing behind him to make sure the coast was clear, he held open the flap to the cabana, and she walked in, turning in a circle, taking in the dimly lit tent with a handful of lounge chairs centered around a glass table. “Are we allowed to be here as they get ready?”
“No clue,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m not afraid to break a few rules.”
“You’re trouble,” she said, shaking her head.
“Yes, but you know that about me. Besides, you like trouble.”
“Too much for my own good,” she mumbled.
He pressed a finger gently to her lips. “Not tonight. No talk tonight of why we’re a bad idea.”
She bit her lip then flicked her tongue against his finger. A mischievous look flitted across her eyes.
He nodded, encouraging her to let go. “That’s right. Tonight we’re a good idea. Because tonight I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
She inhaled sharply. Her skin shimmered with the flush of desire. It was a good look on her. “Like what?”
“You’ve worked hard to make a ton of people happy, and to make an incredible thing possible with the center. The next thirty minutes are all about you, and you’re going to feel what it’s like to be with someone who is obsessed with your pleasure. Every ounce of it, every inch of it, every second of it.” He ran his other hand down her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake.
“Colin,” she said, as if she were trying to resist him. Trying futilely. “You say these things…” She trailed off as she seemed to collect her thoughts. “You say these things that make it so hard to resist you.”
“Nah. That’s not what makes it hard for you to resist me. This is.” He tugged her body to his, letting her feel his erection through their clothes.
She laughed. “Fine. You win for best innuendo of the night,” she said then pressed into him, her voice turning feathery, the way it did when she started to melt for him.
“Excellent. Let’s see if I can win at making you want to come more desperately than you’ve ever wanted to in your life,” he said, and her eyes widened, giving him a yes, telling him she wanted all the same things. To come hard in his arms.
God, he fucking loved getting her off. And taking his sweet time doing it.
He brushed his thumb over her top lip, tracing a soft line, and she parted her mouth, closing her eyes. But he didn’t kiss her. He had something else planned. He moved his mouth to her ear and whispered, “How sensitive is your neck?”
“This isn’t fair,” she moaned in a feathery voice as he spun her around and sat her down on the end of a lounge chair. He stepped back a foot, so he could look in her eyes as he stripped off his jacket and tossed it on the back of the chair. The way she watched him sent bolts of lust through him. From the edge of her seat, she stared unabashedly, with hunger in her amber eyes.
“What’s unfair about me giving you what you want?”
“Because you know I’ll do anything if you touch me there,” she said, raising her hand to the back of her neck as he unknotted his tie.
“Anything?” He arched an eyebrow. “Anything at all?”
“Pretty much.”
“Anything sounds damn good to me. Besides, if you truly wanted me to do nothing, you wouldn’t be here,” he said, always ready to give her an out. In whatever capacity she was going to be with him, she had to be with him. To choose him. To want him.
She held out her arms and shrugged. “I want anything. Anything and everything with you.”
“You can have it all with me.”
He unbuttoned the cuff of his right shirtsleeve. His every nerve ending fired for this woman. How he felt for her was physical and so much more. Her passion for her work, her drive to make a difference, her heart that gave and gave and gave—all of it had spurred on his feelings. But then this—her body, her desire, her fucking fantastic face—she drove him wild. He was confident he did the same to her. He rolled up his other cuff, each fold of the crisp white shirt revealing the art that adorned his forearm. A sentence in curling script: Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It suited his job, but it had little to do with how he made a living. It was his mantra. It was how he lived. It was his mission in life ever since he’d taken the biggest chance years ago and gained so much in return.
“So tell me something,” he said, moving closer, dropping his hand behind her to touch her lower back, then tracing a line up her spine with his fingertips. She arched into him, vertebra by vertebra.
“Yes?”
He bent his head closer to her ear, and whispered hotly, “Did you wear your hair up for me?”
She exhaled deeply, as if it cost her something. “Yes.”
He dragged his index finger up the back of her neck, as he rested one knee on the lounge chair, positioning himself behind her so he could devote all his attention to her neck. “When you were getting ready at your house, were you thinking this might happen?”
She nodded.
“So you came here tonight already wanting me?” he asked as he stroked her skin.
“More than I should,” she murmured.
“You think you shouldn’t, but you’re giving into it, aren’t you? It sure looks that way to me.”
“I am. You know I am,” she said, and he could hear the fevered desperation in her tone. He was going to reward that wanting.
“Give in,” he whispered. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Lowering his mouth to her shoulder, he licked the line of birds up her neck and to the edge of her hair. She shuddered.
He smothered her neck in kisses. Up, down, across. Over her shoulder blades and back up her spine.
Every kiss unleashed another moan from her, a sexy gasp, a needy sigh. Noises that were only a prelude of what he wanted to hear from her tonight.
