Living with Temptation (12 page)

Chelsea sighed and ran a hand loosely through her hair. She
glanced at the time. It was getting close to midnight yet she didn’t feel tired.
She stood and turned her phone off, placing it onto the nightstand. Then she
reached up and began peeling the straps from her shoulders.

In her fantasy, it was Dean’s fingers touching her, standing
bare-chested behind her, his body ready. All she needed to do was step back and
sink into the firm warmth of his chest and his embrace.

Behind her, she heard the door open. Chelsea gasped and
jerked the straps up, spinning around to face Dean.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” she snapped, her mind reeling
from anger and arousal. Her cheeks flushing from shame – if he’d interrupted
any later, he would’ve caught her in the moment.

“Sorry. I guess I forgot,” he remarked, stepping closer to
her, his voice lowering. “I’ve seen you naked before.”

Chelsea swallowed, her gaze running down his body as she
recalled the sight of his naked body, his eager hardness. What did he want?

“Why aren’t you in your own room?” she retorted. Yet her
voice wavered when Dean came close to her, his lips curved in a sensual smile.
Chelsea’s gaze lowered to them, her thoughts drifting to the memory of his
strong, firm body as he made love to her.

Sex
, she reminded herself.
That’s all it is to
him.

“I wanted to see you.”

Chelsea stepped back from him and folded her arms
defensively. Tonight, she wasn’t going to give in.

“What happened to sleeping with each other?” Dean asked, the
tone of his voice teasing, almost seductive. “Without the sex?”

“You didn’t mention it.”

“I am now…”

Chelsea stared at him. “So what do you expect me to do? Fall
into your arms? Push how I feel aside for a night of sex?”

“Do what you want. I’m here for you.”

She tried to narrow her eyes but failed miserably. Dean took
the last of her resolve at the restaurant, when his caring eyes looked into
hers. All she wanted was him. That feeling had never eased.

“Dean, I’ll never stop wanting you,” she confessed. How could
she hide that from him anymore?

“I know,” he whispered, raising his hand to trail it down
her arm. His touch sent delicate shivers across her skin. Chelsea fought to
restrain herself from kissing him.

His voice broke her desire. “But…you’re still vulnerable.”

“I think we can both tell I’m not anymore.”

She heard his shallow breathing, knowing that he was holding
back. “I can’t give you what you want from me.”

Chelsea tilted her head. Her lips stopped before his, inches
away from a kiss. The breath from his mouth caressed her skin, reminding her of
the passion they had, the pleasure he could give her.

“You can,” she insisted, knowing what she was proposing. “Tonight.”

Another moment of passion between them. She no longer wanted
to turn it away. Having Dean in her bed was better than another lonely night.
Tomorrow she wanted to wake up with the memory of his body still clear in her
mind before leaving.

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t come here to seduce you. I
needed to tell you how much I want you. How being apart from you and knowing we
can’t have each other hurts…more than I can stand.”

Chelsea’s lips parted as she considered his words. “It’s not
about sex for you?”

“Not anymore.”

“So what’s your reason? Why can’t we be together?”

“Because my life is different, it’ll get to you.”

She shook her head. “I won’t let it!”

“And I can’t give you everything you want.”

“All I want is you!” Chelsea argued. “Damn it, Dean! Why
don’t you-?”

His lips met hers and she welcomed his kiss, throwing her
arms around him with a fierce desperation. A hand went down her spine, teasing
her through the fabric of her dress, and then rested at her lower back. Chelsea
pushed her body against his. The bulge of his arousal pressed against her
thigh. She moaned against his lips, clinging tightly to him as if it were their
last night together.

Dean’s hands roamed across her body, underneath the dress to
cup the tender flesh of her breasts. Chelsea closed her eyes, letting him tease
her exquisitely. He moved with confidence, with more assurance than last time.

Her excitement peaked as he squeezed gently and released,
his thumb tweaking her nipple through the fabric.
How could he resist this?
Dean
slid the straps from her shoulder and she let her dress fall to the floor,
exposing her body to him once more.

The heat of his lips moved from her mouth, down her neck, to
the top of her breasts where he gently kissed the mounds. His bare hands were
on her skin, driving her wild. Dean raised his head to kiss her hungrily. Chelsea
longed for him to take her, to slide into her and fuck her hard.

Dean pulled away, breathing heavily, his need glazing his
eyes. He removed his shirt, brandishing that naked, broad chest. Chelsea
lowered her gaze to his skin, her lips parting from the sight. This was what
she’d wanted, how she’d remembered it. Then his mouth was on hers again, his
hands sliding down the smoothness of her body to unclip her bra.

Grasping the firm mounds of her breasts, he squeezed them
until she gasped. Dean’s mouth silenced her, claiming her tender lips again,
each kiss building her need, increasing the passion until she tore away from
him and begged him to fuck her.

Dean smiled and began unbuckling his pants.

Only moments ago they’d been in the restaurant, her eyes
barely able to leave his. It was happening so fast, but Chelsea didn’t want to
stop. Dean stepped close to her and she fell into his embrace. In his arms
again, his relentless kisses touched her lips, her cheeks, her neck. Building
upon the sexual tension that only faded under his touch.

She stepped back, her skin damp and hot from his mouth.

Chelsea turned away, knowing he was watching her ass as she
walked to the bed, letting her panties slide down her thighs. She fell onto the
sheets, the fabric cooling her skin. Soon Dean’s pants and briefs were gone,
discarded on the floor as he made his way to her. In the light, she stared in
heated passion at the shape of his body, his thick length erect and wet with
moisture.

Dean maneuvered his body over her. Their chests touched, her
breasts pressed underneath his firm muscle, connecting them once more as his
lips claimed her again. Chelsea gave into him, letting him trace his fingers
across her skin, sending shivers of delight through her body.

Her body tensed, her back arching as she longed for him to
touch her. Chelsea sat up, breathing heavily as she met his lips. Her tongue
eased into his mouth, the movement echoing their love making. When she pulled
away, he leaned forward for one more kiss.

“Condom?” she prompted. She stopped taking the pill after
realizing it didn’t stop her knees flaring up.

“Don’t need one,” Dean explained. He tilted his head back so
she could look into his eyes. “Chelsea, I’m sterile.”

She gaped at him and when he kissed her again, it wasn’t
enough to numb the shock.

“How?” she demanded, her mind spinning.

“I’ll tell you after,” Dean murmured. Luckily she hadn’t
asked about it further, and he didn’t want to tell her the truth.

He kissed her more forcefully and Chelsea fell back against
the bed, her mind drifting away to focus on his touch, the feel of his skin.
She parted her thighs and with one thrust, he entered her. The feel of his
silken hardness made her gasp, and his kiss silenced her.

With no plastic barrier between them, she could feel
everything. Dean moved within her, each touch sending waves of pleasure through
her body. Her inner walls tightened against him as each gentle motion brought
her to her climax. As he moved faster, harder, she raised her hips, pushing him
deeper.

She released her mouth from his to cry out his name as the
pleasure overcame her, her body shuddering. Dean’s skin slid against hers, his
heated kisses on her lips, moving down to her neck.

Chelsea gasped, awash in the afterglow of sex. She could see
the concentration on Dean’s face as he held himself back.

“I want you to come,” she breathed.

Their lips touched in one brief moment until she felt Dean’s
release against her. He throbbed within her, her body responding by clenching
down on him. Chelsea gasped, feeling herself come again.

“I wanted you to come more than once,” he grinned, his face
flushed from exertion. Dean gave her a lazy, satisfied smile as he withdrew.

Chelsea lay back, staring up at the ceiling in surprise. The
warmth of his release was inside her, filling her with deep satisfaction.

“I usually last longer,” Dean added, his voice husky.

He moved off her to lie on his back against the bed sheets.
Chelsea turned to look at him.

“You lasted good enough.” That was an understatement.

His smile was brief, his green eyes studying her face.
“Don’t worry, you have very little chance of getting pregnant.”

“What happened?”

“I’m sterile,” he confessed. Chelsea noticed the dark pain
in his eyes. “It happened a few years back. I made up my mind I was a player –
it was my reputation and I enjoyed it. Being sterile didn’t matter to me then.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “It started three
years ago. Around the time things with Jenny went downhill.”

“Oh,” she said softly, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t
have children. A family. Now she understood why he didn’t want to be with her.

 “I’m sorry.”

Hearing the pain in Dean’s voice, she met his gaze, her
heart heavy from his confession. This had to be the reason why he couldn’t be
with her. Chelsea noticed the hesitant look in his eyes.

“I want to be with you, Dean,” she assured him.

“I can’t give you a family.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Chelsea insisted. “I care about you. I
want you to be happy. For us…to be happy. And I will be as long as I have you.”

His lips were on hers again, and she let herself be carried
away in his kiss, feeling his arms tighten around her as their bodies entwined.

The next morning, Chelsea awoke on her side, the bed sheets
clinging tightly to her bare skin. She blinked to clear her vision, noticing Dean
sleeping soundly in front of her. She sat up, entranced by the gentle curve of
his lips, the peaceful expression on his face.

Her movement woke him.

Dean cleared his throat. He opened his eyes and gave Chelsea
a brief smile.

“Morning,” he greeted her.

“Hey.”

“Last night…”

Chelsea pressed her lips together. “Hope you aren’t going to
say it was a mistake.”

“Never! But I can’t promise you a relationship. I…”

Obviously he doesn’t want us.
Chelsea shook her head.
“Just be honest. Tell me how you feel.”

Dean was silent for a moment, then he smiled. In the morning
light, his face gleamed from the afterglow of their sex. Chelsea didn’t want to
admit how good it had been, she was sure he’d heard that many times before. But
now he was trying to be distracting.

Realizing she wasn’t falling for it, he spoke. “I didn’t want
this to happen. You’ve been going through a vulnerable time…”

“I know you don’t want to hurt me,” Chelsea interrupted. “I
think we’re both past that stage. We want each other. Why’s it so bad to give
into that?”

“Because it can’t happen, Chelsea. I’m a millionaire, you’ll
never be able to adjust to my way of life, or the media.”

She glared at him, heat rising in her cheeks. “You think I
can’t handle it? That’s all this is about? You’re worried about the
media
?”

She threw herself out of bed and began pulling on her dress.
Dean sat up, looking exasperated.

“Chelsea…”

“What’s the point of this? I’m moving out in two days. That
solves everything.”

She pivoted away from him and left the room, shivering in
the cool air. If only she could go back and grab a coat. But Chelsea didn’t
want to return to that room, to see Dean lying naked under the sheets. She
gritted her teeth, then shook her head dismissively. All she needed was to be
in Dean’s arms, to have the comfort of a relationship. Obviously their
attraction was too hard to resist. It was only proof they could last together.

But he doesn’t want me enough,
she told herself.
He’s
better off being a player.

Chelsea went downstairs, remembering how he came to her as
she slumped helplessly on the steps. She walked into the kitchen, and began
preparing herself a coffee. Dean had an expensive brand of instant coffee. But
then, everything he had was of top quality. It wasn’t something she could get
used to, but it was still a welcome luxury.

She poured hot water into the cup and tentatively took a
sip. The bitter taste was enough to wake her up, but not enough to allow her to
forget last night. The memory of Dean’s touch, the feel of his lips. It was
something she couldn’t forget, and she desperately wanted to feel it again.

Chelsea ran a hand through her hair and sighed deeply.

Only a few days left until she would be out of his life and the
temptation of his bed. She pushed away the pain and grief that tore at her when
she thought of that. Dean was a casual fling, he couldn’t cope with a real
relationship. His indecisiveness to be with her was proof enough.

Chelsea knew her insistence probably seemed desperate to Dean.
But she wanted this to be more than casual sex. Now her resulting feelings were
a mess and his rejection only hurt her more.

“Why can’t I have you?” she murmured to herself.

“I didn’t know you talk to yourself.”

His voice made her jump, and she quickly glanced behind her
to see Dean standing in the doorway, an endearing smile on his face. Chelsea’s
gaze lowered down his bare chest to the briefs clinging tightly to his body,
and that prominent bulge. She briefly closed her eyes, then turned away.