The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

The name was familiar. Where had I heard it before? Oh, God. “The actress?”

He lifted a shoulder. “We met at some event last year, and we’ve hooked up a few times since. She was in town last month filming something, and we both had some free time, so . . .” He scratched the back of his neck, and I got the sense he was hiding how I’d made him uncomfortable. “It’s a casual thing.”

“Oh,” I said.

“What about you?”

The plane leveled off, but my brain was still hung up on the image of him with Kacey. She wasn’t a huge star, but she was still a celebrity, and drop-dead gorgeous to boot. They’d done an excellent job of keeping their hook-up quiet, because they were a beautiful couple and would have looked great splashed across the front of a tabloid.

“What about me, what?” I asked.

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

Blood rushed to my face, heating my skin. “It’s, uh, been a while.”

He looked at me like that couldn’t be right. “Really? For a girl as unattractive as you?” His doubt began to fade. “Wait. How long is ‘a while’?”

I ground my teeth, irritated to have to answer his cross-examination, but not enough to back down. “It’s been months, Vance.”

Six very long, very lonely months.

He couldn’t think of a single plausible reason. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been too busy to meet anyone I’ve been into.”

Whatever idea he’d just had, the thought turned him rigid. “Do you . . . not like sex?”

Was he kidding? I loved it but wasn’t about to tell him that. “I like sex just fine, but unlike some people,” I gave him a pointed look, “I don’t need it to survive.”

A smug smile curved his lips. “Sounds to me like you haven’t had it with the right person yet.”

“Yeah,” I deadpanned. “That must be it.”

I didn’t miss who he was implying, but that was so unfair. I wasn’t the one against us hopping into bed together. If he asked me, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. God, if not for his dumb bet with its stupid rules, I’d—

I sat up straighter in my seat. “You mentioned you and Jillian talked about rules when you made your bet. Tell me about them.”

He put his elbow on the armrest opposite me and leaned on it, putting space between us. “Not much to it. I agreed I wouldn’t have sex for ninety days.”

Excitement fluttered in my belly. He was lying, or at least not giving me the full truth. I saw how his eyes had shifted away, and not to mention, he’d physically retreated. I didn’t let him, and leaned in, closing the space.

“Define sex, then.”

He pretended to be shocked. “Oh, no. You don’t know?” He sighed dramatically. “Okay, Emery, when two people really like each other, sometimes they’ll—”

When I placed my hand gently on his leg, the words died in his throat. He stared at my fingers resting on his thigh like he both loved and hated it.

“Sex,” my voice rasped, “can be done in a lot of different ways.” For emphasis, I slid my hand up a few inches and enjoyed his sharp intake of breath. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

His warm hand clasped over mine, but he didn’t push me away. His fingers wrapped around my palm like he wanted to prevent me from moving any closer to the center of his legs, but also to hold me in place. To keep up our connection.

“You’re not wrong,” he said quietly.

Did he know how strong a hold he had on me? Not just where we were touching, either. My whole body was electrified by him, making desire buzz through my system. Hopefully, he couldn’t tell, but my needy voice probably didn’t help. “Then tell me what kind of sex you can have that won’t break your vow.”

His mouth opened to say something, but he got lost finding the right words.

I decided I’d help him out, and although I doubted the flight attendant could hear us, I whispered it anyway. “Masturbation?”

His face went blank. “I fucking hope so, because if not, I lost the bet the very first day.” His expression was sheepish, but I found it sexy. “We didn’t get that specific. All we discussed was whether or not oral was included in the no-sex ban.”

Really? I’d assumed it would be, but his hesitancy made me wonder. My voice was tight. “Is it?”

His unblinking gaze locked on to mine as he took in a slow breath, drawing the moment out. Then, he straightened in his seat and shifted closer. Like he’d been cornered and now he was ready to turn and fight. “She said I could give,” his words were wrapped in velvet, “but not receive.”

The electricity inside me grew so strong, static played in my brain.

This man radiated sex. Seduction seeped from his pores and dripped from his wicked expression. Vance Hale stared at me with a guarantee in his eyes, a promise that he could deliver enormous pleasure even without the use of his greatest weapon. Or perhaps his mouth was his greatest weapon.