Tempt The Boss (Tempt 1)

“Are we really going skating?” His eyes are wide with anticipation. “Mom, can I bring my stick so we can shoot some pucks?” He then turns to me. “Is it okay if I bring my stick?”

“You play hockey?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I want to, but Mom says I have to choose one sport, so I chose soccer.” Gabe looks at his mom.

“I used to play college hockey with Cooper Stone. Have you heard of him? He’s retired now, but he was a big deal when he was playing.”

“You used to play with Cooper Stone? Matthew Grant is my favorite player of all time! He’s still a rookie, but he’s awesome.”

I smile at him. This kid obviously wants to play hockey. “How about next Sunday, if it’s okay with your mom, I ask Cooper to join us on the ice?”

“Mom, please? I’ll do all my chores.” Gabe turns to his mom and begs.

“First off, you’re at your dad’s next weekend. And second, you don’t have any equipment, and this isn’t the right time for me to be buying stuff,” she answers him.

“I have extra gear,” I pipe in. I totally don’t, but I’ll buy whatever he needs me to buy.

She looks at me. “How about we go do the skating thing and see how you like it? You’ve never really been on skates, Gabe,” she proposes gently, and he must see it as a win in his favor, because he jumps up and hugs her, repeating ‘thank you’ over and over again.

“Rachel, we’re going skating!” Gabe yells, running out of the room.

“You look cute,” I tell her because she does look cute, but it’s more than that.

“We aren’t dating, Austin. You can’t talk to me like that.” She shakes her head. “Please, don’t make this harder for me.” She keeps her voice low, and I advance on her, but she quickly brushes past me and heads into the kitchen, picking up the kids’ breakfast plates on her way to the sink.

“What do we call you if we can’t call you Asshat?” Rachel turnsto me on her way up the stairs.

“His name is Austin, so no more of that language, young lady. Now, go get dressed,” her mother instructs from the kitchen. Gabe grabs her hand to hurry her upstairs to get dressed.

I head into the kitchen, finding Lauren bent over, loading the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. Her ass taunts me, and my cock is hard and ready to slide into her.

Looking over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone, I walk over to her, placing my hands on her hips.

Her body stills and then stiffens once my hands land on her. I press my hips forward so she feels me. The warmth of her body penetrates right through me. She snaps up straight, keeping her back to me. “I can’t seem to forget you,” I whisper in her ear as I sweep her hair to the side and kiss her neck. “I can’t think.” I run small kisses up the side of her neck as she tilts her head to the side to give me better access. I’m about to slip my hand inside her robe when I hear someone barreling down the stairs.

My hands leave her hips and I back away from her, while Lauren slams the dishwasher closed. “I’m not quitting my job just so you can have your way,” she hisses as she walks past me. “Get ready, because there are more games to play, Austin.”

She walks upstairs as I watch her, and I swear there’s a distinct swing to her hips.

Chapter Twenty-Three

LAUREN

He showed up like he just walked off a fucking catwalk modeling casual men’s fashion. His faded blue jeans fit him perfectly, hugging him in all the right places and making his package look huge. Okay, fine. He’s very well endowed, but fuck, those jeans just emphasize that fact. His blue Henley molds to his chest, shoulders, and arms, highlighting all his muscles right down to his trim waist, where the hem is tucked in at the sides in a way that’s obviously just his style. Topped off with his black leather jacket, the whole outfit looks like he should be riding a bike instead of driving a Porsche.

Then he sweet-talked my kids, mostly Gabe, with the hockey bullshit. And then, the crème de la crème was him grinding his fucking cock into me while I was bending over. I swear I almost raised myself up on my tippy toes to get him to slide in.

Since Sunday, I’ve masturbated every single night with him starring in all my dreams. He wants me to quit. Well, fuck that! I’m going to make him regret he made this stupid rule, even if I give myself blue balls, or a blue vagina, or whatever.

I grab my yoga pants, because nothing molds to a woman’s body quite like yoga pants. I pair them with my blue off-the-shoulder sweater that stops just above my waist and gives a little peek of my stomach, but not too much. I wear a blue lace bra underneath it, which is the same color as the sweater. It’s a mom outfit, but a sexy mom outfit, or at least I hope it is.