Tempting (The Tempting #1) Read online

  Tempting

  Book One in the Tempting Series

  Alex Lucian

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Release News

  Acknowledgments

  © 2015 by Alex Lucian

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Najla Qamber, Najla Qamber Designs, www.najlaqamberdesigns.com/

  Interior Designer: The Write Assistants, www.thewriteassistants.com

  Editing: M. Wiemer, Jon Perry

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, brands, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark 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.

  For Jamie, the greatest inspiration

  Chapter One

  Professor Easton,

  Please bend me over your desk and fuck me until it hurts.

  Sincerely,

  Adele Morello

  • • •

  I stared at the email for several minutes, my cursor hovering over the “Send” button. And then I hit the backspace button and rewrote.

  From: Adele Morello

  Date: Saturday, September 12, 2015 07:37 PM

  Subject: A plea

  To: Nathaniel Easton

  Professor Easton,

  Do you have any opportunities for extra credit? In looking over the course syllabus, I’m concerned I will struggle in some areas of this class and would like an opportunity to pre-emptively redeem myself.

  Sincerely,

  Adele Morello

  • • •

  Much better. Smiling to myself, I clicked “Send” and leaned back in my chair, taking care to not put too much pressure on my ass. The chair swiveled from side to side, squeaking with each twist. I tapped my fingers on the desk, waiting impatiently for his reply. Leaning my head back, I looked to my right, saw my bed, sheets rumpled and pillows scattered across the ground. If I closed my eyes and inhaled, I could still smell him.

  His hands gripping my hips, fingers biting into bone.

  His tongue circling my pierced nipple, an assault by his teeth.

  His grunts as he came inside me, eyes flashing above me in the dark.

  I could live on the memory of that night for a very long time. But frankly, I didn’t want to. I wanted a round two, three. Four.

  My phone chirped and I glanced at it, seeing the text from Leo. I ignored it. I felt a little bad that I hadn’t messaged him after my abrupt exit from the bar the night before. The exit that was thanks to one Professor Easton.

  I looked back at the computer, and when I saw a reply, I sat up straighter, immediately wincing at the quick bite of pain in my ass.

  From: Nathaniel Easton

  Date: Saturday, September 12, 2015 07:41 PM

  Subject: Re: A plea

  To: Adele Morello

  Ms. Morello,

  I’m afraid extra credit requires more work for me, therefore it’s not something I typically offer. If you are implying you are incapable of doing the coursework that will be assigned, perhaps you should consider withdrawing from the class now.

  Your alternative is to hire a tutor. If you have the financial means to do so, I’d be happy to forward you a list of students who would have the time for you.

  Regards,

  Nathaniel Easton, EdD

  Professor - Creative Writing

  • • •

  Well. That was basically a big fuck off, Adele. Luckily, I wasn’t easily discouraged. After glancing at the bed again, my eyes fell over the only physical evidence I had that he’d been here. Who knew plastic and a little metal could be so important? He’d regret leaving them here.

  From: Adele Morello

  Date: Saturday, September 12, 2015 07:42 PM

  Subject: Re: A plea

  To: Nathaniel Easton

  Professor Easton,

  Thank you for your prompt reply. I’ll make do.

  See you in class,

  Adele

  • • •

  I padded across the worn wooden floor to the bed, grabbed the pair of brown-rimmed glasses he’d left behind. My fingertip caressed the gold emblem: the stacked Ms. I’d pulled them off of his shirt when he’d climbed over me, tossing them to the nightstand without either of us giving them a second glance. I knew the glasses cost more than two thousand dollars, so he would likely want them back. Opening the arms, I placed them on my face and turned my head to the full length mirror to my right.

  Bringing my thumb to my mouth, I chewed on my nail as I regarded my reflection. My hand came up to my mane of pale blonde hair, ruffling it around. And then I smiled, knowing Professor Nathaniel Easton hadn’t recognized the woman he’d gone home with the night before.

  The woman whose hair he’d held tight in his fist as he flipped her onto her stomach and slid into her from behind.

  The woman whose ass he had slapped like a man on the verge of losing himself, a man who had let down his guard long enough to show how deeply he needed release. How long had it been since he’d fucked like that?

  I tilted my head to the side and pushed my hair off my shoulder, exposing the line of love bites across my collarbone. One black-polished fingernail followed their bruising, relishing the way he’d completely consumed me in that bed.

  We hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, just saliva. There’d been no empty promises of seeing one another again. I’d followed his lead, and we’d fucked like only two strangers with wild abandon could.

  And best of all, he hadn’t realized I was his student.

  But he would.

  Chapter Two

  The Night Before

  “Adele!” Someone called my name and my head lifted, searching the crowded bar. I saw bodies moving against each other in a drunken dance, beers being tipped back, and in the middle of the chaos was my best friend, Leo, a glass of beer in each hand, arms above his head.

  He pushed and turned, maneuvering through the crowd with the ease he owed to being a six-foot-three, broad-shouldered quarterback.

  “Hey,” he said, breathless as he pushed a beer into my hand. Someone brushed by me, causing the beer to spill across my fingers. I moved t
he beer to my other hand and shook my wet hand.

  “Hey yourself,” I returned, bringing the beer to my lips.

  “What’s up with the costume?” His eyes roamed up and down and I followed his gaze, taking in what he was seeing. Skin-tight leggings, ripped up tank, leather jacket: all black. I wore my thick hair down and I was stacked on stilettos with heels narrow enough to pierce skin.

  “It’s not a costume.” I tucked my hand into the front pocket of my jacket and sipped my beer again. “It’s just a little different from my school clothes.”

  “I’d say. That’s some … uh, interesting eye makeup. Are you channeling Catwoman or something?”

  I rolled my eyes. My eyes searched the bar before coming back to Leo. “I’m just trying something new is all.”

  “Is this some kind of revenge ploy to burn Garrett?”

  I shuddered thinking of Garrett, of his slimy hands and slick words, lying to me about the rumors swirling around campus, lying all the way through the moment I found him with his pants down and some pretty blonde coed sucking him off.

  “She came on to me,” he’d said, as if that absolved him from any guilt.

  “Hell no, Leo. Come on. I don’t need to load on the eyeliner and slide on leather to make him hurt.” My eyes searched the bar again, seeing if I recognized anyone.

  “Then who are you looking for?” Leo had caught me, not that I’d been very subtle.

  My eyes moved back to his and I narrowed them, shrugging, and sipped more beer. “Not sure yet.” I licked the foam from my upper lip and set the glass down. “So what’s new with you?”

  Leo leaned against the bar as I sat on the stool immediately next to him, the raucous voices around us requiring him to lean forward so I could hear his answer.

  “Darcy wants to cool things for a while.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Cool things? Why? You guys just started going out.”

  He shrugged. “She thinks we’re moving too fast.”

  “Oh, puh-lease,” I groaned. Darcy was Leo’s first real girlfriend out of high school. They had only become official a few weeks ago, over a keg of Sam Adams graciously purchased by Leo’s fancy-pants CEO daddy. She’d trailed him and, by association, me all summer long, hanging over us like a cloud of sparkle and black ringlets. I’d bared my teeth to her a few times, flirted with Leo in front of her more often than I cared to admit, but she’d snuck through his defenses and latched on like an orange-tanned little leech.

  Leo raised his eyebrows and blew out a breath, seemingly as confused as me. “She’s worried I’ll distract her.”

  “You?” I asked incredulously. “She’s the one who showed up to your practice and screamed hysterically when you were sacked. She’s worried you’ll distract her?” I laughed. Long, loud.

  When Leo didn’t laugh along with me, I reached a hand forward and patted his shoulder. “Poor baby, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make fun, really. But you have to admit she’s a little bit over the top.”

  With a slight nod of his head, he peered down at his beer. “Yeah, okay. She did start washing and folding my boxer briefs when I wasn’t home. I don’t even fold them.”

  I laughed again. When he didn’t seem to join me still, I squeezed his shoulder and dropped my hand. “Come on, Leo. We’re twenty-one. Darcy isn’t the one you’ll imprison with a ring someday.” Looking around the bar, I said, “Let’s take your mind off of Darcy tonight.” It sounded more sexually suggestive than I’d meant, and Leo glanced up at me, brown eyes searching mine.

  “Get real, Madsen. Not ever.” I shook my head at him and finally earned a small lift of his lips. “Finish your beer and I’ll buy you some big boy shots.”

  By the third beer and second shot, my bladder was protesting against the compression of my leggings and I left Leo with some blonde he’d snagged on the way back to the table with round four. I did the need-to-pee dance all the way to the bathroom, the liquor causing me to fumble a few times, falling against the wall.

  After washing and drying my hands, I ran my fingers through my hair, tousling the slight waves I’d added to it, before reapplying my eyeliner and lip gloss.

  After I pushed through the door to exit the bathroom, I collided with a wall of heat.

  I stumbled backward, a slide reel of my life flashing before my eyes, ending with a vision of my skyscraper heels taking me out, my brains splayed across the bathroom tile.

  “Whoa.” An arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me up and forward, my body colliding once again with the wall of warmth. My fingers clutched his chest, nails digging into leather.

  My eyelids slid open; my heartbeat slowed. I met his eyes.

  “Hey,” he said, in a voice that would have been a whisper were it not for the loud around us. “I got you.”

  I searched his face. Blue-green eyes, the color of a shallow tropical lake. Jet black hair, sticking up all over. A well-defined jaw line covered in a few weeks’ growth of black facial hair. Brown eye glasses hanging from the front of his cornflower blue shirt, right in the center of his leather jacket he wore open.

  I waited for him to say something.

  “You alright?”

  Not really what I was hoping for. I nodded my head a little more frantically than I’d intended, my blonde hair falling all over my face. I peered up at his eyes, looking for a spark of recognition, looking for anything that told me he recognized me.

  After staring at one another for several seconds, three things became immediately clear:

  1.Professor Easton didn’t recognize me as his student.

  2.Professor Easton was fucking hot. I’d only seen him from my seat in his class, yards and yards away. Being mere inches from him made my blood warm, my legs tingle.

  3.I was still holding onto him and he was still holding on to me.

  I tilted my head, causing my hair to fall back over my shoulder. His eyes traveled to my exposed neck and stayed there for a beat, before returning to my eyes.

  “What’s your name?”

  I debated telling him a lie. I compromised, telling him a nickname instead. “Add.”

  “Add?” He raised one thick, well defined eyebrow. “Like Math?”

  “Yes.” It came out breathier than I wanted. “What’s yours?”

  “Nathan.” It was also a nickname, I knew, as my syllabus had listed one Nathaniel Easton. He didn’t look old enough to be a professor, but he had a solid ten years on me.

  “Hi, Nathan.” I licked my lips, coming away with gloss. “Wanna dance?”

  Nathan looked surprised. His lips opened as if he was going to instantly say no, but he hesitated. I wasn’t usually that bold, but with my all black costume and sex hair and Dr. Easton looking—let’s be honest—absolutely fucking mouth-watering ... well, I would have kicked myself in the ass with my pin needle heels if I hadn’t tried to take advantage of this cliché meet-cute.

  “Dance?” He looked over his shoulder, but didn’t shift his body to let me go. “I’m not much of a dancer.” He turned back to me, eyes roaming my face, trying to figure me out.

  “Mm,” I purred, my fingers slowly crawling up his chest, thumbs brushing in their wake. I looked up at him under my lashes. “It’s easy.” My hands clasped his shoulders, squeezing slightly, and I stepped closer, so we were stomach to stomach, my eyes inches from his; my mouth breathing his air. I tilted my head again, letting my hair fall to one side and brought my lips to his ear. “Move with me,” I said, lips brushing his lobe. I pulled back to meet his gaze as I dipped my hips, sliding along his body like water.

  His reluctance lasted only a moment before the arm around my back tightened, securing me more firmly against him. My entire body hummed, atoms coming alive at his touch.

  We moved away from the bathroom, toward the dance floor, arms and legs entwined and hips aligned. Nathan’s eyes didn’t stray from mine, holding me in place. The music roared, the speakers bouncing the bass all the way to our space on the middle of the dance floor. The song
was a slower one, with a resounding beat. A song that exuded sex, a song that demanded we get so close that we tangled with one another.

  My face brushed against the stubble on his jawline a couple times, leaving a tingle across my cheeks. Images of his face between my legs, that hair scraping against my thighs, came vividly to the surface, making me ache. I wrapped one hand around his neck, lightly dug my nails into his skin, taking in his warm, spicy cologne. It was subtle, but enough to drive me mad. With my other hand, I explored: fingers along his jaw, hand in his hair, along the muscles of his shoulder.

  “What are we doing, Add?” He’d narrowed his eyes, and the lights danced across his face as we swayed from song to song, keeping our bodies close.

  “Dancing.” As another slower song came on, I turned around, bringing my back to his chest, my ass aligned with his crotch. I shivered, feeling his arousal hard against the thin fabric of my leggings. One of his arms came around my stomach, pulling me closer. My breath seized for a second, my own arousal a lightning jolt in between my legs.

  With his other hand, he moved my hair over one shoulder and brought his mouth down to my exposed neck. But he didn’t touch, just breathed there, warm air traveling up and down the column of my throat. My eyelids closed and my head fell back into him. I brought one arm up behind me, clasping his neck, while my other came around my stomach, linking my fingers with his.

  It was the most sexual dance I’d ever engaged in. I was bold, but so was he. With our fingers clasped together, his hand roamed up my stomach, coming to rest right under the curve of my breasts.