The Seduction(11)
Author: Carly Phillips

“Yeah. That’s Grace.”

“She’s beautiful.”

His fingertips tighten against my skin. “She was.”

I swallow hard. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Stunning silence surrounds us, and I sense his tension reverberating from inside him. “You don’t need to tell me.”

“We didn’t grow up with much money, but we did have loving parents.”

I’m immediately struck by how opposite our lives have been. I grew up with money but no love. Zach had love but no money. I’d take his situation any day.

“Mom died of cancer when I was sixteen,” he said. “Grace was eighteen.”

He doesn’t turn toward me, and I think that maybe it’s easier for him to open up without facing me. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

“Thanks.” He pauses before continuing. “Dad was a plumber, and he sort of drifted after that. He retired early. He didn’t have much saved and ended up in Florida. Grace went to school on loans. I held down part-time jobs until I graduated high school, then went to college the same way, on loans and scholarship.”

I wait, knowing the worst is yet to come.

“Problem was, Grace didn’t come to me when she needed money. Instead, she started working as a call girl, for a woman named Miss Black.”

I blinked, startled. I try to turn around, but he anticipates the move and holds me in place, his hands on my shoulders. I’m right. It’s easier to talk without looking at me. I allow him this.

“Go on.” I don’t judge his sister. It’s not my place. I just listen. I mean, who knows what I’d do or who I’d turn to if my parents cut me off completely.

He exhales long and hard. “Obviously I didn’t know, or I’d have stopped her. She told me she was working as a hostess. I was so busy with getting my PI license and trying to take care of myself, I just believed her.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “What happened?”

“He— I mean, a client happened.”

Now Zach’s fingers bite into my forearms. I wince from the pain, but I want to know the story, not interrupt and remind him that he really doesn’t want to share.

“The son of a bitch liked to find a girl’s weak spot, play into it, and f**k her until she was screaming in panic and fear.”

I almost gag. “That’s awful.”

“Grace went missing for a while, and that’s the first time I really used my PI license. When I found her, she was wandering the streets, almost completely nonresponsive. Dad came up from Florida, and we put her in a mental hospital. South Oaks.”

I close my eyes at the pain lingering in his voice.

“Luckily my grandfather left a small inheritance, and between that and what I can add, it helps keep her there.”

“You’re a good man. A good brother.” I spin around before he can stop me. “Thank you for sharing.” I cup his cheek in my hand, go up to my tiptoes, and kiss his lips softly.

I mean to comfort.

He needs more and grabs my wrist, pulling me to an open door. We’re in his bedroom. He doesn’t bother with the light, just lifts me onto the bed and comes down over me. “You still want this?” he asks roughly.

He wants to forget. It’s so obvious he’s looking to annihilate the pain and lose himself in sex. Too bad I already know what’s between us is more than that, and I believe he knows it too.

I nod, though I’m trembling. “Yes. I want you.”

He stills above me as if that’s the last thing he expects to hear. I lift my shirt and pull it over my head and toss it to the floor.

His gaze falls on my exposed br**sts. I’m wearing the bra that makes the girls extra perky, and he notices, nodding appreciatively.

He leans over and switches on the bedside lamp. “I need to see you.”

I smile. “Works both ways. I want to see you too.” I tug playfully on the hem of his tee shirt.

The darkness is slowly leaving him, and I want to keep him here. With me.

He takes the hint and removes his shirt, throwing it onto the floor with mine. I imagined him naked. I didn’t even come close to the reality.

His chest is bronze, tanned from the sun. His abdomen is flat but for the well-defined muscles that only come from working out. A light dusting of hair sprinkles his upper body, and I reach for him, splaying my palm across his chest. His skin is hot, and he groans at my touch.

“Skirt off,” he says, shifting off me, giving me room.

My eyes never leave his as I unsnap and work the skirt down my thighs. My panties are drenched. It’s embarrassing and surprising at once. My ex had to work hard at getting past the awkwardness, and it still hurt. Now? I can’t wait to feel Zach glide inside me. I moan at my thoughts.

“Sex sounds.” He shakes his head and grins.

“Right time and place this time.” I bat my eyelashes.

His deep laugh makes me feel good, and I know I’ve totally distracted him.

His gaze rakes over me and falls to my skimpy bikinis. “I’m sorry. Did I forget to say get naked?” he asks, his voice rough and gravelly.

I immediately wriggle off the tiny scrap of fabric.

He looks down and sucks in a deep breath. “I knew you were bare, but look at you.”

My cheeks heat. He’s more vocal than I expected, and he says things that make my body burn. This isn’t easy for me despite how much I want him.

“What’s wrong? Not used to sex talk, Princess?”

I shake my head. “Did I mention there’s only been one guy and he basically screwed me over afterwards? I swore off men. And then I met you.” I find myself baring my soul.

Kinda fits since I’ve bared my body.

At my words, his gaze darkens, and I think he likes what he’s hearing. I’ll only admit so much right now. I don’t want to talk about the sex tape. One day I’ll confide in him, but for now I don’t want to bring that ugliness between us. Still, I think he should know he’s not getting an experienced woman.

“I don’t want experienced, Chloe. I want you.”

“That’s good.” I reach up and thread my fingers through his. “Because you make me want to try and trust again.”

He lets out a strangled sound, leans down, and seals his lips over mine. He kisses me possessively, as if he likes my revelations and what they mean for him. Unable to resist anything about him, I kiss him back. Our tongues tangle, lips mesh, and I’m immersed in everything that is Zach — until he breaks free.