Page 44 of Tempted


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Can I really do that? Is it a good idea?

No. It’s a horrible idea. But I can’t deny I want to.

A therapist would say I can’t handle the fallout. That I’d surely fall so deep into my addiction that I’d confuse lust for love like every time before. They would surely tell me I am playing with fire. They wouldn’t be wrong, but this time, I welcome the burn.

Maybe if I got it out of my system, it would make working around the man easier?

Not a chance in hell.

21

Bailey

For the whole day, I’m on edge. My lips still feel swollen from Drew’s kisses. Everything about last night feels like a dream. From the overly romantic restaurant to the way he felt pressed against my body . . . a girl could easily get caught up in the fantasy.

Drew is not my Prince Charming, though. I’m under no false hope that I’m the girl for him. Maybe I could have been. Maybe if my dad didn’t die, maybe if I didn’t turn to booze to hide the pain, maybe if the accident never happened that changed my life . . .

I push the thoughts away of how much I ruined my life and go back to how I feel about what happened with Drew. I want him. Regardless of the fact that it probably won’t go anywhere, I still want him.

This could set you back.

I push down the insecurities. I’ve already made up my mind, so there’s no sense in beating myself up over it. Whatever Drew’s offering, I’m taking. Despite everyone’s warning against it. That thought makes me think of my sister. I miss her.

Grabbing my phone, I pull up Harper’s phone number, and my finger hovers over the call button. She said she wanted time. She hasn’t reached out to me yet, which means she’s not ready to talk. I know her. She’ll send me to voicemail, and then I’ll worry about that all day. I blow out a harsh breath and decide to clean. Anything to take my mind off Drew and Harper.

When my place sparkles, I realize it’s time to get ready for work. After last night, I have the need to take a little extra care at getting ready. I’m no longer waitressing, but a skirt is completely acceptable, right?

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, I groan. My outfit screams that I’m trying too hard, and that’s not what I’m going for. I pull out a white blouse that’s a little more professional and finally feel ready. My hands shake at my sides as nervous energy pulses through me.

It’s not just about seeing Drew again but starting this new position. There’s still so much to learn, and I’m only hoping I don’t disappoint.

I arrive at work a little after three the next day. I might have gotten a promotion, but technically, my hours haven’t changed yet.

Throwing my bag under the bar, I go in search of Drew, but when I turn the corner, he’s there. And staring right through me. It’s unnerving. He’s leaning against the banister above me, running his hand slowly over the railing. His gaze penetrates me. It lights me on fire yet again.

I spent the entire night thinking up every reason I should avoid this attraction like the plague. There were a million good reasons, but none good enough to stop the inevitability that I would have him. Even if only for a short time.

Hot lust radiates off me. He looks primal, and I burn for him. I turn away to hide my feelings. He doesn’t need to know how badly I want him. I’m mortified at the thought of him knowing. But as much as I try, I can’t stop the assault of sexual thoughts. I imagine what his hands would feel like running up my body, how they would feel pushing me forward and teasing my skin. My body aches to be touched. I need to calm down and get myself in check. Working with him here in this empty bar will be torturous or dangerous, depending on my actions.

I feel a presence behind me, and my breath catches in my chest. I attempt to mask my want. “Turn around,” he commands.

I obey, saying, “I’ve made up my mind.”

“Is that so?” He grins.

He steps forward, caging me in. I’m in so much trouble. I’m nearly panting with need, and he can see it. It’s all over my face. He’s so close I can feel his breath. I don’t know what to say, so I go with the one thing that might stop this madness. “My sister warned me about you.”

He doesn’t flinch. “I don’t care what your sister said,” he says in a low, husky voice. “What did you decide?”

I answer the only way I know how. Grabbing him, I slam my body into his, and all thoughts about stopping this are gone.

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