The Temptation of Lila and Ethan ts-3 Read online

  The light flashes to go ahead and cross the street and I step off the curb. He walks with me, keeping close to my side as we maneuver through the crowd coming at us. I want to tell him what’s wrong, but I’m not one hundred percent sure what’s bothering me just yet. If it’s money, the loneliness I’ve felt for the last month, the fact that I need a job but don’t even know how to get one, or if it’s the feelings I have for him.

  “Did you know that Ella and Micha are engaged?” I say, changing the subject and stepping up onto the curb.

  Traffic rushes by us as we walk past the towering, uniquely shaped buildings that glimmer and shine. Each building is so different from the other: a replica of the Eiffel Tower, a massive pirate ship, a pyramid—you name it and it’s probably here. Neon lights flash across billboards and marques, trying to entice people to come gamble their money away, see flamboyant shows, or drink drinks while staring at tits. There are a lot of people whisking around and the heat, the dancing, the skimpy clothing, and the music playing make the atmosphere erotic and steamy. The combination makes me want to dance and have fun, instead of thinking about stuff.

  “Yeah, Micha told me a couple of weeks ago.” He slips his arm around my shoulder and draws me closer as a guy tries to hand me a card with a picture of a naked lady on it. “Sorry I didn’t mention it. Micha wasn’t even supposed to mention it, because Ella wasn’t ready to tell anyone, but he let it slip out.”

  “She told me the other day,” I say, breathing in his scent. He smells so mouthwateringly good. “And she sounded so happy.”

  “I’m sure they are.” He slants his head down to meet my eyes and inquisitiveness sparkles in them. “Is that why you’re upset? Because they’re getting married?”

  “No, I’m just… honestly, I’m not sure what’s bothering me. I think maybe I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

  He searches my eyes a moment longer, the lights on the marque above our heads reflecting in his pupils. “Do you want me to take you home?” he asks. “So you can get some rest?”

  I shake my head, even though I’m exhausted. I don’t want to go home to my empty house. “Can we go to a club or something? And I mean really nice one.” I grab his arm and pretty much beg. “I need to do something that’s fun.”

  He dithers. “You know how I feel about clubs. They’re too God damn noisy and packed and fancy ones are even worse.”

  “Please.” I pout, exaggeratedly sticking my lip out. “I’m not ready to go home just yet.”

  “Can’t we just go to a bar?”

  “I want to do something that’s my kind of fun.”

  “You mean spend money you don’t have?” he says bluntly.

  I glare at him. “Fine. I’m sorry I even tried.” I start to stomp away, but he pulls me back.

  He sighs. “Fine.” He gives in to me, then lets go of my arm and offers me his elbow and I take it, even though I know I shouldn’t, because I’m getting too attached, dangerously one-sidedly attached. He guides me across the road, talking about how hot it is. So simple. So easy.

  Too bad he doesn’t want me because I would love to let him have me.

  Ethan

  I really hate clubs. There are too many people packed in a tiny area and the music is always turned up to the point where it vibrates in my chest. But Lila didn’t want to go home and I don’t want her out and about when she’s obviously upset about something.

  We’re sitting on barstools at the bar that probably cost more than my truck. The bartender keeps hitting on Lila, even though she seems uninterested. It’s annoying to watch, but it’s always hard to watch her get hit on. In fact, it’s harder than it used to be and I can’t help thinking she’s mine, even though she’s obviously not.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a shot?” she asks me over the music as she slams down her fifth shot of top-shelf vodka, which I’m sure she can’t afford. I remember when I first met her how much of a lightweight she was, barely able to drink beers, but now she’s fucking crazy, reckless even. It makes me a little nervous and I’m seriously considering taking her fake ID and cutting it in half so she can’t use it anymore to go out, but then again I’d be a fucking hypocrite if I didn’t get rid of mine so I could stop going out.”

  “Then who would drive home?” I ask loudly, glancing at the dance floor. There are a ton of women out tonight, dressed in short dresses, tight pants, their tits pretty much bulging out of their tops. It’s usually a nice sight, but I’m not feeling it tonight. I wasn’t even feeling it back at the bar with the blonde eyeing me. I kept staring at her, deciding if I wanted to hit on her or not, but Lila and my worry for her kept pulling me back and finally I’d decided just to focus on her.

  “We could get a cab.” She spins the empty shot glass around on the bar. I open my mouth to protest, but she interrupts. “You don’t have to. You’re just always so tense when we come to these kinds of places and alcohol usually relaxes you.”

  My forehead creases as I assess her. Typically, people don’t notice my uneasiness and it makes me question why she’s been paying such close attention to me. I remember the countless times London use to drag me to noisy places, either not noticing that I hated the noise or not caring.

  “What?” Lila touches her hair self-consciously and then glances down at her dress that brushes the middle of her legs. She has a sweater jacket thingy over it, which makes no sense to me since it’s hot as hell outside. She also has a pearl bracelet on and a diamond necklace and everything about her screams money, a rich princess pretty much. We’re so opposite, yet I can’t seem to stay away from her.

  “It’s nothing,” I say, patting the bar with my hand. “I’ll take a few shots with you, but you have to order them.”

  She lowers her hand to the bar. “Why?”

  I restrain an eye roll. “Because the bartender is obviously into you and I’m guessing he might get the shots for you faster.”

  She glances over at the bartender talking to a group of women. “He’s not my type,” she says nonchalantly, looking back at me with curiosity. The lights from the dance floor flash across her face and there’s no use trying to deny how beautiful she is, princess or not.

  “Not preppy enough for you?” I tease, but underneath my skin, irritation surfaces.

  She props her elbow on the bar and watches me, not saying anything. It’s making me uncomfortable. I want to ask her what the hell she’s thinking about and why she’s staring at me like that, but I don’t because I’m afraid of the answer. “What do you want to drink?” she asks.

  I shrug, taking an uneasy deep breath, hating how unsettled I feel inside. When did things get so complex between us? How did I let it get that way? “I’m going to have to go with tequila.”

  She giggles under her breath. “To kill ya coming up.”

  She raises her hand, leans over the bar, and flags down the bartender. She slips off her jacket, the thin straps of her dress revealing her shoulders and the low-cut back showing her smooth skin. I’m not sure if she does it on purpose, to get the bartender’s attention, but it works. She orders a shot of vodka and a shot of tequila. He grins at her, drinking her in, and I want to punch him in the face just for looking. I’m not much of the jealous type, so the feeling throws me off a little.

  The guy on the barstool next to Lila starts flirting with her a few seconds later, eying her lips as she chews on the straw. He’s older, at least twenty-five, wearing a black suit and ridiculously shiny shoes. Lila seems vaguely interested in him, not laughing at his jokes, yet she lets him place his hand on her thigh and inch it up north.

  I’m getting pissed. I’ve never had much of a possessive side—I’ve seen my father overact too much with my mother, even if she was just talking to the mailman—but right now my jealous, controlling side is coming out. As the bartender sets the shots down in front of us, I grab the top of her barstool and spin her in my direction so the guy’s hand falls off her leg.

  Her eyes widen a
s the guy shoots a glare at me. “What the hell, Ethan?”

  I have an arm on each side of her and my hands are just beside her hips. I lean in so she can hear me. “If you want me to stay here with you and take shots, your attention needs to be on me.” I wince at my own words, but it’s too late and I can’t retract them.

  Her expression is calm, yet her eyes carry interest. “Okay,” she says simply and gathers the shot from the counter. She raises it in front of her, giggling. “To paying attention.”

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes at her drunkenness, but a laugh slips through as I collect the shot glass. “All right, Lila.” I raise the glass upward. “To paying attention.”

  I’m about to clink our glasses when she pulls back. “That goes for you, too,” she says and when my expression slips to confusion, she adds, “You have to pay attention to me tonight, too.”

  Why do I see this going very, very wrong? “Okay.” I’m an idiot. “You have my one hundred percent undivided attention, Lila Summers.”

  Her lips curve to a smile and then she clinks her glass against mine. We both pull away and tip our heads back, devouring our shots.

  “Now what?” I ask, slamming the empty glass down on the bar while she gags on the drink—she always does.

  Her grin is almost devilish. “Another one?”

  I sigh and shrug, feeling slightly better as the alcohol burns its way through my body. “Why not?”

  “Why do you think it’s so hard to be alone?” Lila asks, struggling to keep her eyes open as she gazes out at the night sky through the cab window.

  I’m turned sideways in the seat, with my knee up, so I’m facing her, even though she won’t look at me. I lost count of how many shots we had hours ago and I can barely comprehend how we got to a cab—stumbling, laughing, as she rubbed her hand up the front of my jeans. No, that can’t be right, can it?

  “I think being alone is fan-fucking-tastic… well, maybe… sometimes…” I mumble, draping my arm on the back of the seat. I stare at her for a moment, taking in her bare skin in the moonlight. I want to touch it. Lick it. Even bite it.

  I’m bursting with sexual energy and I channel it to my foot on the floor, bouncing my knee. There’s something different about tonight, something out of the ordinary, this strange need to keep getting closer to Lila. It could be the alcohol. Or it could be something else, but there’s no way my tequila-soaked mind is going to reach any sort of answer.

  Lila turns her head toward me, her pupils wide and shiny. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  I keep tapping my foot on the floor, trying to think of a better answer than the first one that pops into my head, but I can’t find one. “Because I’m thinking about you.”

  She glances at the cab driver, a thirtyish guy wearing a baseball cap, and then her gaze lands back on me. She sucks her lip into her teeth and I have to bounce my knee faster or I swear I’m going to fucking lose it. “Thinking what about me?” she asks, looking wary, interested, and exhausted.

  Don’t say it… “I was thinking about what it would be like to lick you… or bite you… either one really.” It seems like I should regret it as soon as I say it, but regret is nowhere in my reach at the moment.

  Her breathing quickens and her voice comes out shockingly unsteady for someone who has sex so much. “Then do it.”

  I blink, wondering if I heard her right through the massive amount of alcohol consuming my thoughts. “What?”

  She holds my gaze steadily, even though she seems really nervous, her voice trembling. “Then bite me. Or lick me… whatever you want.”

  Every part of me is screaming not to do it, that I’m breaking my rules—rules I set for a reason. But desire and fucking tequila rampage the rational side of my mind. Drawn by a needy current, I lean forward, sweep her hair off her shoulder, keeping our eyes locked the entire time, and she quivers as my fingers brush her collarbone. When I reach the curve of her breast and trace a line above it, she bites her lip and groans. It’s way too much. My body feels like it’s going to combust. Before I can even acknowledge what I’m doing, I duck my head forward, slip my tongue out, and lick a path from her collarbone to the arch of her neck, grazing my teeth softly along the path.

  “Oh God… Ethan.” She shivers, clutching her hands at her side. “That feels way too good.”

  My eyes close and my breathing becomes ragged as I battle to pull back, keep my hands to myself, fearing that if I touch her, I’ll rip her clothes off right here in the back of the cab. And I can’t go there. It’s not the same as when I hook up with random women. I can feel a connection with Lila and sex will ruin it, especially when I bail out afterward.

  “Lila…” I trail off as her hand glides up the front of my shorts. “I think…”

  I bite down on the sensitive spot right below her ear, just above her neck, not enough to break the skin, but enough that her shoulder jerks upward, and my hands clamp down on her waist, my fingertips delving into the fabric of her dress.

  “Do it again,” she whispers, breathless, her hand rubbing me hard. “Please.”

  I remember how she told me she never begged, and suddenly all my doubts dissipate into the sea of alcohol swimming around in my head. I move my mouth upward to the tip of her earlobe, breathing hotly on her skin the entire way, and then I graze my teeth along her earlobe, slide my tongue out along it, and taste her just like I wanted to.

  “Oh… my… God…” She releases a slow breath that’s echoed by a whimper, her chest curving forward and pressing against mine.

  I’m a little stunned by how much she’s enjoying it and by how much I’m enjoying it, too, my moves fueled by an adrenaline surge and yearning in my body. I swear all the sexual tension inside me is pouring out in my motions. I’ve lost control. I place my hand on her bare leg and glide it up until it’s fully underneath her dress, her skin searingly hot against mine, and my fingers graze the edge of her panties. The warmth and wetness that I felt when she had the towel on is there and all I want to do is say fuck my rules, slip my fingers inside her, and lay her down on the seat.

  “Shit, Lila…” I sound choked as I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to decide what’s right and what’s wrong—what I need to do and what I want to do. “I think we should—”

  The cab jerks to a stop and Lila and I quickly pull back, looking stunned. I’d seriously almost forgotten that we were in a cab. We’re at the entrance of her apartment, the lampposts lighting up the parking lot. It’s late, the neighborhood quiet, and the cab driver looks really pissed off.

  “Jesus,” she whispers, blinking her eyes open, and then she aims her attention at the door. Her hand is still on my cock and my hand is still up her dress.

  Reluctantly pulling my hand out from underneath her dress, she follows my lead, so we both have our hands to ourselves. I inch my legs out of the way so she can squeeze through and climb out, but she doesn’t budge, looking at me expectantly.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Aren’t you going to come in?” Her voice carries confidence, but her slackened posture and uneasy demeanor portray self-doubt and the doubt makes me hesitate.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t,” I say, torn between the good side of me and the bad, the drunken side and the sober side. Rules. No relationships. What am I doing? “It might not be a good idea… maybe…”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widen in horror and it surprises me. With all the flirting we’ve done and the guys Lila has slept with, I’d never expect her to look so hurt. And maybe that’s why I decide to do it. Or maybe I’m just really, really stupid, but somehow I find myself getting out of the cab with her.

  After we pay, we run in a drunken stupor to her complex, laughing about God knows what. When we reach her door, she fumbles with her keys, until finally she gets it open. She trips over her own feet, laughing as my fingers fold around her waist, catching her before she falls.

  “You’re a clumsy drunk,” I say as she stands up straight, steadying herself
by clutching on to my shoulders.

  “And you’re sexy when you’re drunk,” she says, biting her lip as she turns to face me.

  My hands are still on her waist, my fingers gripping at her skin, wanting to feel more of it, but I’m still hesitating to take it any further. I know Lila—like really know her—and afterward, I’ll have to see her again. What if it changes things between us? Do I care? As soon as I think it, I realize I do care about her more than I want to admit. She knows more about me than anyone. Jesus, she really does. I’ve told her shit about my parents, my druggy past, and my future loner plans and she’s told me a lot of stuff about her and how her dad is verbally abusive and cheats on her mom all the time and her mom just accepts it. We know stuff about each other and I never even got that far with London.

  Looking anxious and uncertain, Lila grips the front of my shirt and tugs me with her as she walks backward toward the hallway. Neither of us says anything. We don’t turn on the lights. We just breathe loudly with each step, our eyes fastened together as we move our legs in sync.

  Minutes, or maybe seconds, later, we’re falling onto her bed. I brace myself with my arms, catching my weight so I don’t crush her, and she gazes up at me, not saying anything, just breathing, her chest brushing against mine with every inhale. I want her so damn bad and I know she can tell since my hard-on is pressed up against her hip. Unable to tolerate the tension anymore, I lower my mouth toward hers, ready to kiss her, but she turns her head at the last second and my lips brush against her cheek instead. At first it’s kind of weird, but then she slides her body upward, so her neck is in my face and I understand what she wants.

  I press my lips to her skin, rolling my tongue out, and then drag my teeth gently across her neck as her hand finds the top of my shorts and she undoes the button and zipper. I shiver and groan as she grabs my cock and starts to rub me hard again. I bite down on her skin, maybe a little too roughly but she trembles with me, enjoying it, but she doesn’t moan, which is disappointing because the sound of it in the cab nearly drove me crazy in a good way. I want to make her moan so badly that it becomes the sole focus of my thoughts. Moving my body downward, I create a path of kisses and gentle bites, nibbling soft skin until I reach the top of her dress. Then I suck the curve of her breast as I reach up and slip one of the straps down her shoulder.