Page 22 of Tempt

“It’s just good storytelling.”

“Very.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and I run my fingers through her hair. “Sam?”

Before I can answer, my phone vibrates on the night stand. It’s the middle of the night.

She glances toward it. “Do you want to check that?”

No, I want to bury myself in her body and pretend my life and all the complications that come with it don’t exist. “I probably should.”

“Go.” She rolls away from me, flopping out in the middle of my bed. A naked goddess, a blast from the past, when I was still a fuck-up but in other ways, less complicated ways.

I grab the phone. It’s a text message from Grace, and that awful regret in my chest twists tighter. I don’t click into the message right away. I don’t want to. Whatever Luke has done, if he’s missing or they’re fighting, I don’t want to deal with it right now.

I glance back at Hazel. At her bare skin, her dark gaze, locked on my face. My stomach churns. “It’s my sister-in-law.”

She nods. “Do what you need to do.”

I don’t know what that is. I never have, not really. My brain will trick me into making all sorts of bad decisions. “My brother’s an asshole.”

Hazel’s expression doesn’t change.

I don’t know why I’m telling her this now. My phone vibrates again. “I need to—”

“Sure. Go.”

I glance down at the screen.

Message deleted by the sender

“I don’t know what she wants.” I scrub my hand over my face.

“Come back to bed,” Hazel whispers. “Come here.”

I want to. I want to so fucking much it hurts. But it’s three days before Christmas, and if I don’t deal with this right now, it’s going to wreck the entire holidays. I shake my head. “I can’t. You should get some sleep. I have to go.”

“Sam—” She cuts herself off. Then she smiles. “Thanks for tonight.”

I crawl on top of her. I don’t know what to say right now, but I know what to do. I kiss the ever loving hell out of her. I pin her down until I make her gasp against my mouth, and then I swallow that sound so it’s mine.

Hazel’s little sounds are all mine now. “I’ll be back,” I whisper.

She curls up in my blankets, naked and perfectly bare as I pull on clothes I don’t want to wear. I flip off the lights, hoping I’ll return before dawn lights up the sky.

I don’t make it.

And when I return, not only is my room lit with cool grey morning light, it’s also empty. And Hazel has left me aDear Samletter on my pillow.

6

Sam

Four years earlier

I knew it was coming.My lawyers had warned me it would be a possibility, although they would try to argue for a transition period.

The judge made it clear that would not be the case. She didn’t find any reason to grant me further compassion than keeping my ass out of jail, and that was only because my assets covered my debt to society—just barely, leaving me eight hundred dollars to my name.

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