The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

“Oh, you poor, little rich boy,” she patronized, and I allowed it because, again, she wasn’t wrong. I didn’t know the struggle most people did, and my problems were self-inflicted. Her voice was matter-of-fact. “Most people see it the other way around, you know. Sex is what complicates things.”

Irritation flashed through me. “I thought you felt the same way I did.”

“That sex is meaningless?”

It had been for us. As enjoyable as it was, it hadn’t brought us closer emotionally, and I was glad. It made the break-up easier on both of us. “Yeah. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“You’re so full of shit, Vance.” She laughed. “Sex is a huge deal for you.”

“No, it’s not.” I looked at sex the same way as sleeping and eating. It was a basic need to be fulfilled and nothing more.

“Right. Then, you’d have no problem going without it.” Excitement filled her voice. “Oh, my God, I bet you wouldn’t even last a week.”

My irritation grew to full-out annoyance. “What are you talking about? Of course I would.”

Her laugh announced she didn’t believe me. “Sure.”

It came out without thought. “You want to put money on it?”

She paused, and I pictured a surprised grin on her lips. “I have money. What would I do with more of yours?”

“Not money, then.” I didn’t know why I was even entertaining the idea.

Well, that wasn’t true. I was a Hale, and I’d been conditioned to not only accept every challenge thrown my way, but to succeed at it.

It was win at all costs.

“Okay,” she sounded as if she were merely humoring me, “let’s say I’m interested. What would you want to play for?”

I wracked my brain for what we each had that was of value to the other. If I were my father, I’d have asked for help networking or a political ‘in’ with her family. But the ambitions for me to enter politics weren’t mine. I didn’t want to hold office, and the thought of an eventual presidential run made my stomach turn.

The idea took shape, and a smile widened on my lips. “I want the boat you’ll use for the Cape Hill Cup.”

“Why? Don’t you win that, like, every time?”

I did, but last year I’d narrowly beaten her to the buoys. “We both know you’re the only real competition for me.”

She made a sound that was too short to be called a laugh, and I imagined her on the other end shaking her head with a smile. “Isn’t it less fun when it’s a cakewalk?”

“Nope. Winning is winning.”

She let out a sigh. “Okay, if I’m giving up my boat, this thing needs to be a serious challenge. One month isn’t long enough. I’m thinking more like six.”

My mind emptied at the unwinnable challenge. “Fuck, no.” Was she crazy? “I’m not going six months without sex. Be reasonable.”

Her laugh was deep and, Jesus, when was the last time I’d heard her do that?

“Plus, the race is in August,” I added.

“Okay, three months,” she amended. “You can do that, right?” She didn’t wait for my answer. “If you go ninety days without sticking your dick in someone, then I’ll tie my boat up to your dock myself.” She paused only long enough to draw in a breath. “But if you can’t abstain . . . then I get your boat and presumably the trophy.”

All of Cape Hill knew my boat was the fastest in the marina. If Jillian had it? She’d win the race for sure.

But that wasn’t going to happen because I wouldn’t lose this bet. A lot of my problems could have been avoided if I’d just kept my dick to myself, so a sex hiatus actually wasn’t a bad idea. Three months was a bit longer than I wanted, but I could cope.

“Okay, deal. But I want clarification.” I glanced around the restaurant to make sure no one was listening. “Does oral count?”

“You mean, oral sex? Yeah, that counts. It’s right there in the name.” Her tone turned playful. “You know what? I’ll be nice. As long as you’re giving and not receiving, I’ll say it doesn’t count. If I remember correctly, you weren’t half-bad at it. I’d hate to deprive the ladies of Cape Hill.”

I laughed because I wasn’t good with my tongue—I was fantastic. She’d been a big fan of how I went down on her when we’d been together, and I saw right through what she was doing now. Getting a girl off with my tongue was a lot of fun, but if I got the opportunity to do that, it’d be really hard not to want to do more.

Jillian hoped to tempt me into losing.

“Well, as I remember it,” I said, “you were just okay at blowing me.”

Now it was her turn to laugh at my outright lie. She knew my claim was bullshit.