Living with Temptation (9 page)

A gasp tore through her lips from the new sensation. Dean
raised his head, looking into her eyes. His own were narrowed, his lust for her
visible in that heated look. Chelsea tilted her head, looking into his eyes,
pausing the moment.

 Her lips were drawn to his again. Dean’s hand slid
underneath her coat, and when he touched her skin, she felt the heat of his as
he lowered, pushing past the edge of her panties. Two fingers touched the
inside of her thighs, feeling the wetness of her desire for him.

Chelsea drew in a breath, closing her eyes. Dean broke their
kiss and lowered his head to bury himself against her neck. The heat of his
breath caressed her skin as he pressed his lips lightly against her. He slid
one, then two fingers inside her damp heat. Chelsea cried out, digging her
fingers against his back as she tilted her hips into him, pushing him deeper.

“You love that,” he murmured. The passion in his voice
threatened to bring her over the edge.

She let out a gasp as he began moving within her. She
tightened against his fingers, and he moved faster in response. Chelsea could
feel the pleasure building strongly, her legs shaking from the intensity of it.

A cold gust of wind brought her to the reality of them
standing on the patio, where anyone could see them. But Dean didn’t stop. And
all too soon, she allowed herself to succumb to the pleasure of his fingers
inside her, the heat of his skin, the feel of his touch and knowing where it
would take her.

The rhythmic motion was bringing her close to coming.

Chelsea tightened against him as Dean moved his other hand underneath
her coat, caressing her back. Then he reached up and his fingers slid across
the firm mound of a breast. Chelsea whimpered. Her breath hitched in her throat
as he began tweaking and massaging a taut nipple. The touch of his hand
intimately taking her breast while his fingers expertly claimed her - it was too
much.

All of the built up tension, the sexual desire, had come to
this. Chelsea wanted to cry out to Dean, to tell him how good he was making her
feel. But everything in her mind was swept away and she was lost in the
shattering pleasure that coursed through her body in waves of passion.

She slumped against him, breathing hard as she regained her
senses.

It was cold.

Chelsea shivered and pulled her head from his chest to look
up into his eyes. Dean smiled with satisfaction, and then lightly kissed her
lips without saying a word. He slid his hands away from her and grasped one of
her own. Knowing what awaited her, Chelsea allowed him to guide her into the
house and upstairs, feeling lightheaded from her orgasm.

In their haste to get to the bedroom, Chelsea almost tripped
on a step, giggling to herself. Dean laughed briefly, stopping halfway up the
stairs and pulling her into his arms. She stood one step below him, her head
pressing against his chest.

Her laughter subsided as she listened to the sound of his
heartbeat. It entranced her, and she felt his hand cup her chin. Chelsea raised
her head to meet his gaze.

“I care for you,” he said softly. She stared into the
brilliant green of his eyes, knowing that his admission made him vulnerable. Millionaire
Dean was opening up to a woman.
To me
. Before she could respond, his
lips met hers, tasting her fleetingly.

She felt dazed from his kiss and when he pulled away, he stepped
up and into the hall. Chelsea followed him, thinking only of what awaited in
his bed. Dean.

When they made it to his bedroom, she fell back against the
bed sheets and peeled off her coat. Dean watched her hungrily, kneeling before
her on the bed as she stripped the white blouse from her body, bearing more of
herself to him in her pink bra. Dean’s hands slid down her thighs and she bit
her lip, loving the feel of his touch.

He removed her pants and then his own, revealing luxurious
silk briefs. The prominent bulge of his shaft stood enticingly before her. Driven
by need, she had to touch it.
No more holding back
. Chelsea glanced at
him for approval; he gave her a smile of encouragement.

She delicately reached out to him. Her hand traced the
outline of the bulge in his briefs, and she raised her head to observe the reaction
on his face.

“I need you, Chelsea,” Dean demanded. He tugged at the end
of his shirt and pulled it from his body. Finally, she could see his bare chest
and she stared in wonder at his broad body. His chest was sculpted, firm, and
defined with outlines of muscle. Bare flesh waiting for her to explore, to
taste.

Then his briefs were gone. He was naked before her.

Chelsea reached behind her and hastily unclipped her bra,
letting it fall onto the bed. With both of them naked, Dean lowered himself
over her, his breath caressing her face. She stared up at him, lost helplessly
in his eyes, her body waiting for him.

The dim sunlight slanted through the window, touching his skin,
revealing all that made him real, and human. In a rush of passion, Dean’s mouth
met hers. Their kisses were slow and passionate. As his need increased, they became
hard and frantic. Chelsea moaned against his lips, feeling Dean’s hard chest
against her breasts. Her nipples slid against his skin, Dean’s hands touching
her everywhere, exploring her body.

When he pulled away to take a breath, she exhaled in a rush,
no longer fighting her racing heart or the wetness she could feel below. Giving
into her desire felt better than she could ever fantasize about.

Dean’s mouth went to her neck, tasting her skin, then lowered
to a breast. He sucked in a nipple, flicking his tongue against it. Chelsea
groaned in pleasure, arching her back in need for him.

“Please!” she cried.

His lips moved down her body leaving damp heat, before he raised
his head to look at her. Chelsea parted her thighs, feeling a brief moment of
nervousness. But that faded when she noticed the intense look on his face.

“What do you want?” he breathed.

“You.”

He shook his head. “Come on, tell me how you really want
it.”

She paused. “I…I don’t know. I don’t talk dirty.”

Dean lowered over her, and suddenly his fingers were
touching the lips of her wet flesh. He buried the tips of them into her, making
her gasp.

“Just say you want more…”

“I want more.”

“Mean it.”

“I…want you, I want…” His fingers slid deeper, teasing her,
her inner walls stretching but not enough. He slid in and out, each movement
heightening her pleasure, causing her to raise her hips against him. “Oh, fuck,
I want you!”

Dean leaned over to the nightstand with a devilishly wicked
grin on his face. He withdrew from her, leaving Chelsea tense and desperate to
feel him. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment from her outburst.
Why was I so
loud?

With his fingers slick from her wetness, he grabbed a
condom, and sheathed himself. Then his lips claimed her.

As she returned his kiss, she felt the length of his shaft
as he slid into her. The overwhelming pleasure made her gasp as her body
adjusted to him. Chelsea stared up at him, taking in the lust in his eyes, the
heat of his skin. Then she closed them and allowed him to take her.

Dean thrust into her hard, gentle at first, then faster as
their lips met again. He slid into her repeatedly, her body stretching as he
buried himself deep, his thrusts shaking the bed. Over and over until Chelsea
grasped at him, clinging to his firm body as the pleasure overcame her and she
let herself go. As peaceful bliss filled her body, she heard Dean’s grunt of
release.

He collapsed onto her, his body pressing heavily against
hers. Chelsea swallowed, her body tingling from the pleasure. She felt flushed
from heat, sated from their passion. Her cheeks warmed as Dean’s eyes met hers.
Wondering what to say to him, her breath caught in her throat.

Dean moved off her and cleaned himself up before lying
beside her, placing his hands behind his head.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

She smiled. “I don’t know what to say. It was good.”

“Just good?”

Her smile widened. “I’ll let you think that.”

Something glaringly obvious occurred to her. She’d been too
carried away to tell him.

“I’m on the pill,” Chelsea admitted. “We didn’t need a
condom.”

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise and she hastily added,
“I know it sounds odd after Ryan, but it helps with my health. The hormone
levels keep my knees normal.”

He moved a hand and lowered it down her thigh to caress her
knee. Chelsea forced a smile, remembering the pain that once claimed her life
and hindered her marriage.

“But your knees look perfectly fine.”

“They weren’t, once. It was a buildup of fluid that ended
with me in crutches, unable to walk for weeks,” she explained. “Ryan tried to
help, but he got frustrated it wasn’t improving.”

“Did you get surgery?”

His tone was so gentle. It was everything she’d longed to
hear in Ryan’s voice. Chelsea shook her head, feeling tears in her eyes.

“No. After it was drained for three days, it went away. But
I’ve been afraid of it returning. The doctors don’t know what caused it; they
assured it wouldn’t come back, but…”

Dean’s lips were on hers, taking away all of her past pain
and memories. When he pulled away, Chelsea stared up at him. Her stomach sank
when she realized how much he cared for her, how much she felt for him.

 “We shouldn’t discuss this now,” Dean told her, tenderly
reaching out to her face to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

Chelsea nodded in agreement. Her body was still hot from
their sex, and she could barely form thoughts. She slid close to Dean, wrapping
an arm across his firm chest. Then teasingly, she moved her hand lower.
Touching the tip of his length, she found it hard and damp.

“Mmm, you want me again?”

“Of course I do.”

Dean gave her a naughty smile, his hand moving to the back
of her neck. Then he pulled her towards him. Feeling more confident, Chelsea
straddled him, taking him inside her once again.

For the rest of the afternoon, Chelsea lay in Dean’s arms as
they recovered from their exhaustive hours of sex. Dean pleasured her in every
way possible. As the feeling subsided from her body, Chelsea stared up at the
ceiling, wondering what would happen now.

And what
did
she want to happen?

She’d given into her feelings, acted on her desires, and now
she was in Dean’s bed, her face flushed from sex. Chelsea didn’t know what to
make of it. It was what she wanted but now that it was over, she felt a twinge
of fear. Would Dean cast her aside as he did with every other woman?

Dean breathed softly next to her, his chest hot to the
touch. She heard him shift against the bed sheets as he turned to look at her.

“You want me to fuck you again?”

Chelsea spun around to glare at him, surprised by his
bluntness. Noticing the grin on his face, she broke into a laugh.

“Count me out. I won’t be doing anything for a while,” she
remarked breathlessly.

She moved onto her side to face him, pivoting her weight
onto her elbow. The sky had fallen a dark gray outside but she could still see Dean’s
face, his body. The sheet was pulled up over his waist, but his bare chest was
still visible for her to admire.

The glimmer of appreciation in his eyes brought a smile to
her face. Dean was looking at her as if she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.
And she felt like it.

“You’re good,” he murmured.

She grinned. “You thought I’d be anything less?”

“Wasn’t referring to this. I meant you’re a good woman,
Chelsea. I’ve never met anyone who could be so innocent and dirty in bed.”

The sobering sting of fear returned. Succumbing to him wasn’t
something she planned on doing. No woman could’ve resisted him for as long as
she did. But so much still troubled her. She expected to feel free, relaxed.

As soon as she met Dean’s gentle green eyes, Chelsea knew
what was happening. Her feelings were becoming far too strong. With their
passionate sex over, she didn’t want to lose what they had. It meant something
more.

Could Dean see that?

Her thoughts returned to the moment Raymond told her about Jenny.
Dean still had to elaborate. She wanted to know everything about him, to be as
close emotionally as she had become physically.

“What’ll happen now?” Chelsea asked, her voice strained. It
was a question she’d been reluctant to ask, knowing she was afraid of the
answer.

“I tell you about Jenny,” Dean decided. “Everything. We’ve
come this far, and I don’t want to hurt you again. Jenny was my staged wife. It
lasted for less than a year before she went and told the media. I was paying
her, but that didn’t seem to be good enough.”

Chelsea placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. He
glanced at her warily, his brows furrowing.

“Then she started to blackmail me. Told me she was pregnant
with my son. I know it wasn’t possible, the timing didn’t fit. She only wanted
money from me. So I gave in, and last year I went to visit her and the kid. The
boy looked nothing like me.”

A big assumption to make.  “Did you take a DNA test?”

“I don’t need to. I’m convinced it’s not my child.”

Chelsea bit her lip. “But what if you’re wrong?”

“I know the truth. The woman is doing it for attention, for
money. That’s all she wanted from me.”

No wonder he never pursued a relationship after that. After
being hurt by someone’s actions, it tainted any further relationships. While
she didn’t need to be afraid of Dean cheating like Ryan, she harbored a fear
that he would get bored of her and move on. With the amount of women he
supposedly slept with, he probably preferred spontaneity.

Hearing of Jenny’s desperation for money reminded her of
herself. Not long ago she had been like that, believing money would solve
everything.

But she couldn’t be that way now. Not with how she felt for
Dean. The intensity of it made every other relationship pale in comparison. She
couldn’t decide if it was due to lust - this being the first time she’d slept
with someone with no strings - or fascination. Dean was wealthy and famous, and
sleeping with him was a thrill.

Her thoughts went to his public fling.

“Was this before or after Desiree?”

Dean idly scratched at his forehead then sat up, the
movement almost sliding the sheet down to expose himself. Chelsea swallowed,
trying not to get distracted.

“After Jenny, I seduced Desiree.”

She stared at him. “Why?”

“She was someone out of my league, I enjoyed the challenge,”
he admitted.

Chelsea flinched from his blunt answer.
Enjoyed the
challenge.
Was that how he saw her?

“Turns out she was in an unhappy marriage and after our
first night together, she insisted on spending the rest of her life with me. I
left her, but not before the media put a negative spin on it. It changed my
life, made me realize everything I do has an effect. That’s how being in the
public eye changes you.”

“What the media say shouldn’t matter. It’s only words.”

He smirked. “Says someone who never had that pressure. I
know I need to change my image, for the sake of my family. The name Westley is
looked down upon, it disgraces my parents. After they died, I tried to ignore it.
And I pushed Jake away.”

“It can’t be all your fault,” Chelsea assured him. He put
far too much pressure on himself, and as she studied him, she could see the
strain visible on his face.

Dean glanced at her briefly, then leaned forward and kissed
her softly, not willing to talk any further.

He was restless that night. With Chelsea sleeping beside
him, Dean’s thoughts were troubling. She was a sexy, amazing woman, and he
enjoyed her company, the sound of her voice, the peaceful look on her face as
she slept. Fucking her had been incredibly satisfying.

He wanted her badly, and still did. But it couldn’t be more
than that. He seduced her, just as he intended to. But Dean didn’t count on
these other feelings coursing through him. The need to care for her, to touch
her. To ask how she felt.

Surely he wasn’t falling for her. Love was out of the
question. Chelsea would be moving out in a week, and leaving his life. Dean
hadn’t felt something this intense before. But as with any other woman, it was
a good fuck, nothing more. In her eyes, she seemed to know that too.

Dean craved the touch of her skin, the heat of her lips.
Just having her next to him was enough to get him hard again.

Sleeping with any woman was a hot experience, but easily shrugged
aside the morning after. This wasn’t going the way he intended. Even sleeping
with Jenny weeks after they knew each other, there weren’t any feelings. Not
like this.

Chelsea had gotten to him, and he couldn’t understand why.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. He
slumped onto the bed. Telling her about his past had been hard, but her
inquisitive eyes pulled at a part of him that made him feel guilty. He didn’t want
to hurt her. His intention of using her for the media would stay a secret. No
doubt she would hate him for it now.
I hate myself for doing this. But it
has to be done.

Tomorrow he would get the two of them noticed by the media. After
asking their usual, probing questions, he knew exactly what to tell them. A
lie, of course. When the time came for Chelsea to move out, Dean had a parting
gift for her. A substantial sum that would ease her financial troubles. There
was nothing else he could offer her.

But as Dean looked at her sleeping face, something tugged at
his heart. Chelsea had come into his life, his bed. His plan of deceiving the
media felt pointless.

This isn’t love,
he told himself.
I’m not falling
for her.

They were two different people. Chelsea had her life in
Newark. He knew she loathed the carefree lifestyle he had. He wasn’t blind to
the way she looked at the house. A man with power and money wasn’t the type to
offer a stable relationship - his belief that he once insisted was true. Dean intended
on telling her before she came up to him on the patio, looking innocently
seductive as her blue eyes burrowed into his.

He shifted uncomfortably in an attempt to sleep, but it came
slowly.

When Dean awoke, squinting against the sunlight beaming on
his face, he rolled onto his back to see Chelsea’s side of the bed was empty.
Confused and slightly hurt, he sat up. Now he knew why that pissed women off.

Chelsea entered the room naked, with a cheeky smile on her
face and a tray of food in her hands.

“I thought I’d be the one to do breakfast this time.”

Dean smiled, feeling himself harden as he looked upon her
slim body. His gaze went from her firm stomach to the full curves of her
breasts. Chelsea met his gaze and blushed, knowing that he was looking at her,
thinking about her. He stared for a moment longer, savoring their passionate
afternoon, feeling satisfied that he explored every inch of her body. Another
woman he’d fucked.

A hard jolt went through him when he realized this wasn’t
just another woman. Chelsea was more than that. Dean could feel it. He knew the
moment he met her that they had something wild, an unshakeable attraction.
Giving into it had been an erotic thrill. Now that it was over he expected to
have no feelings for her.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful.”

Chelsea’s smile widened. She sat at the edge of the bed and
placed the tray before him.

“I already had mine,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I appreciate it.”

Dean devoured the three pieces of toast with jam and the bowl
of cereal. Chelsea raised her eyebrows in surprise. He forgot to mention his
ravenous appetite after sex.

“You have so much food in your pantry,” she said with a
laugh. “I wasn’t sure what to make. So I went with something simple.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

There was a long silence between them. Dean observed the
gentle glimmer in her eyes, her expectant expression. An unanswered question
hung between them, and he knew exactly what it was. But he couldn’t give
Chelsea the relationship he knew she wanted.

“When’ll you be moving?” he asked casually. Even the thought
of having her out of his life brought a sharp pain to his chest. He quickly
pushed it aside.

“On Tuesday,” she answered. “Why? You going to miss me?”

Dean swallowed. He had asked that very question to himself.
Deep down, he knew he would. “Of course. And I intend on giving you a little
surprise before you leave.”

Financial problems led Chelsea into this situation. The
least he could do was provide her with enough money to rent a nice house in
Newark for her future.

A hesitant gleam filled her eyes, then she nodded. “I’ll
just have to wait and see what it is. I’m not really a fan of surprises, or the
unexpected.”

“What we did was unexpected.”

She laughed, and he realized how much he liked hearing that.
“Sure was. But that was something I didn’t mind.”

Dean grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. His lips gently
touched hers and then he pulled away, searching her eyes. He knew he was making
a mistake every time he tasted her lips, but he couldn’t resist, not with the
sexual chemistry between them.
Not with how I feel.

“Come on, I know you enjoyed it,” he teased.

Her smile widened. “What if I didn’t?”

He placed a hand over his chest in mock horror. “I’d be
hurt!”

Chelsea erupted into giggles, playfully slapping his arm.
Dean grinned, then reached out to hers. As he rested a hand against her arm,
her laughing stopped. Her skin was soft under his, and his touch lingered
longer than he wanted. She licked her lips, her eyes lowering to his.

There it was.

A single moment where he could truly feel something.
I’m
happy with her.
He swallowed, and leaned back. “I promise I’ll take you to
the finest restaurant at Spring Lake for a nice meal.”

Chelsea’s smile was genuine, but he saw the pain in her
eyes. He wondered if he mirrored it himself. Missing Chelsea would only be
temporary, just as this was.
A temporary fling,
he told himself.
It’ll
be over after a week, and we can both move on.

Three days had passed since that night. Every nerve on
Chelsea’s body seemed to tingle whenever she thought of Dean. The sexual
tension with him had burst into an explicit, undeniable attraction. Neither of
them resisted it. Whenever they passed each other on the stairs, he pulled her
against him and they kissed until both of them were breathless and wanting more.
But she didn’t want to give into her desires.

Dean seemed to hold back as well. But Chelsea couldn’t bring
up her feelings, and he hadn’t spoken of it. She was too afraid to move
forward, as if it would end how perfect everything seemed.

Rejecting what their heated kisses promised to lead to
created a distance between them. Chelsea lowered her gaze as she sat on her bed,
her heart tightening in her chest when she thought of Dean waiting downstairs. If
she mentioned a relationship, she didn’t know how he would react. She pivoted
off the bed, feeling her hair slide against her shoulders.

Another night of sleeping alone. Dean hadn’t mentioned sex, even
when she looked at him with arousal burning her face, parting her lips. What if
he rejected her? She couldn’t go through the pain of heartbreak again.

Chelsea walked downstairs, pondering going into town and
finally buying some candy. She needed a sugar rush. Or an espresso. Anything
that would take her mind off Dean.

 Sharp pain speared through her knee and she lost her
footing, grabbing onto the railing as she slumped onto the stairs. Landing
heavily sent a jolt of pain through her body, but it was nothing compared to
the horror when she realized what was happening.