Wild Temptation (Wild #1)(15)
Author: Emma Hart

Want and crave are different. Want is safe. You can be on a diet and want a chocolate bar, but it doesn’t mean you’ll give in. If you’re on that diet and you crave a chocolate bar, you can bet your ass you’ll have that chocolate. And when you crave, you’ll rationalize it. You’ll give yourself a thousand good reasons why it’s okay to have that one little chocolate bar. It won’t hurt. It’s just one.

My body tingles with the very thought of having Tyler inside me once more. All it will take for the want to turn to a craving is perhaps something as simple as a single touch from him. Then I could have him, have his body, just one more time.

And I could rationalize that it’ll be okay because one more time won’t hurt. One more time of having his lips across my skin, my breast in his hand, his tongue across my clit, my hips tilted as he drives his c**k deep inside me… It wouldn’t hurt.

But it would. It would sear into my skin. Burn me. Consume me. Possess me.

I know my limits. I know my boundaries. And Tyler Stone breaks every single one of them.

I sip my coffee slowly, absently scratching under Angus’s chin. His purrs echo through my silent apartment, the low thrum of it relaxing to me.

What am I doing, really?

How can I realistically expect Tyler to stay away from me when I can’t accomplish the same thing? How can I expect him not to touch me when I don’t push him away? How can I expect him not to kiss me when, whenever he does, I respond as enthusiastically as he does?

“Oh, Angus. I need a vacation.”

He meows and dips his head to rub it against my palm. I smooth the fur along his back.

“That wasn’t a vacation. I was working. Then I went to see my parents. Yes, I know you’re upset you didn’t come, too.” I pat his head. “I’ll take you next time. I promise.”

Talking to your cat: the first step to spinsterhood.

“Maybe we should get you a lady friend,” I sigh.

He jumps from the counter and sidles over to the door. I open it and follow him downstairs. He nudges the main door with his head, and when I open that too, he rewards me by walking a figure eight around my feet before darting through the door.

A foot blocks my shutting it, and I look up, set for another argument with Tyler. But it’s not him.

“Where’s Lord Grumpyass off to?” Dayton asks, following me up the first flight of stairs.

“Gone to get him some,” I mutter.

“Good. He needs it.” She laughs. “Little shit.”

There’s no arguing with the truth. He really does need to get him some. A bit like his mama.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask when we reach my apartment.

Day takes her shiny, new camera from the bag and examines it before setting it gently on my kitchen table. “Your thing,” she replies. “Can you wear that pink camisole? It looks good with your hair.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure.”

I leave her in the kitchen to play with her camera and head into my bedroom. The camisole in question is hanging in my closet, the powder-pink color my favorite shade. That’s the only reason I bought this, really. The color.

I rifle through my “good panties” drawer and find the pair that matches. The lace is soft against my skin as I pull them up my legs, and a minute later, my br**sts are safely ensconced in the bra-top of the camisole. Just about.

Standing in front of the mirror, I give my boobs a jiggle and readjust the top. Aha. There we go.

Day is on the phone when I pad back into the kitchen, a white pair of stockings in one hand and a black pair in the other. “Uh-huh. Yes, I know… All right…” She points to the white pair. “I don’t give a crap if you’re my teacher, Tyler Stone. Talk to me like I’m one of your bitches and I’ll have your balls for dinner.”

I freeze, my leg bent in front of me and the stocking poised by my toes.

“That’s what I thought… No, you can’t come over… Because it’s not your f**king shoot. That’s why!”

“If he comes over here, my clothes are going back on!” I yell, dropping my leg and waving the stocking in her direction.

She smiles smugly. “See? … Yes, she’s totally naked… You think I’m lying? She has great tits. Real perky.”

My mouth drops open, but the shock only lasts a minute before laughter bubbles in me. I grab a couch pillow and bury my face in it as she carries on.

“Really? You don’t believe me?” she says through restrained laughter. “Uh-huh… Okay, I wasn’t going to push it, but she’s totally waxed… Mhmm.”

My howl of laughter is, thankfully, swallowed by cushion. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. Let’s be honest—Tyler knows exactly what my pu**y looks like. And Dayton only knows because our waxes coincide.

“Oh, imagine that. I’ll see you tonight. Bye, Ty.” She drops her phone with a smug-ass grin. “Conveniently, he’s unable to come and oversee this photoshoot. Something suddenly came up. Imagine that?” Her eyes twinkle.

I drop the pillow. “I know exactly what came up. Unfortunately for him, it’s not up the right place.”

I roll the stockings up my legs as she gets her giggles out and return to my bedroom. I open my closet doors and stare at the shoes.

“Is it a coincidence that you have pink heels that match this camisole?”

“Nope.” I pull them out of the closet and dangle them from my fingers. “Lingerie and shoes in the same shade is never a coincidence.” I pull the shoes on and stand, my hands on my hips. “All right. Tell me where you want me.”

I pull the shoes on and stand, my hands on my hips. “Alright, tell me where you want me.”

If she takes my photo one more time, her finger will fall off. Click. Click. Tap. Click. That’s all I’ve heard for two hours now. And don’t get me wrong. I’ve been at shoots longer than this, but I didn’t get in until three thirty this morning. This is not what I want to be doing after a long-ass shift, especially not when I’m back there tonight.

“You have to have enough now.”

“I do, but you’re so pretty to photograph. You make my job real easy, Liv.” She sighs and sets the camera down. “You’re gonna help me finish this degree. I know it.”

“Great. Can I get changed now?”

“One more.” She raises her camera again and I pout exaggeratedly, leaning into her with one hand on my hip. She laughs, snapping the picture. “Okay, okay. I get it. Ms. Model is all tired out.”