Tempered by Her Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Lynn Burke

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-595-8

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Melissa Hosack

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For Doris

  TEMPERED BY HER

  Risso Family, 4

  Lynn Burke

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  “The fuck, Zane?”

  I glanced over my shoulder while tugging my T-shirt down to cover my abs. My cousin and good friend Theo, in nothing more than boxers covering his jutting hard-on, hurried down the dim hallway after me. Shoving my hands into my jeans pockets, I turned and waited for him.

  “You all right?” he asked, sweat beading his brow, a waft of sex and Sasha’s perfume billowing like a cloud around him as he stopped in front of me.

  “Yeah, sure.” I shrugged and tried for a nonchalant grin while transferring my weight from one leg to the other.

  Intuitive dick. He stared at me, dark eyes seeming to weigh my words and shifting stance—same as he’d always done since we were kids. “I don’t just switch for anyone. Thought you said you needed this.”

  “I know.” I ran a hand through my too-long hair and heaved an exhale. “Sorry. Not feelin’ it tonight.”

  “Two minutes ago you had Sasha in tears—buzzing on pain and begging for us—and you up and walk out? Damn it, cuz.” Theo slapped his bare chest. “She doesn’t want just me.”

  I thought of the red hand marks on the subs thighs and ass, the ass I’d planned on burying into balls-deep while she straddled Theo, but she came to mind. Fuckin’ shriveled me right up. “Can’t do it.”

  “I’ve got a couple of little blue pills if that’s what you need.”

  His smirk pissed me off, and I shook my head.

  “Come on, man. I’ve been wanting Sasha for months!”

  I glanced back toward my favorite play room, one I’d frequented on a weekly basis since Theo and I became members of the exclusive kink club. Other doors lined the hall, but no sounds of what most would consider sordid acts behind them reached us. “What’d you tell her?”

  “She’s still blindfolded and kneeling on the bed.”

  “Doesn’t know I slipped out?”

  “No.”

  I clasped Theo’s shoulder. “Tell her I decided to watch instead.”

  “She knows you’re no voyeur.”

  “So make her believe.”

  He sucked in one side of his cheek as the seconds ticked passed. “And when I allow her to remove the blindfold?”

  “It wouldn’t be a lie to say I slipped out a few minutes earlier.”

  “You’re a selfish prick, you know that?”

  His favored nickname didn’t make me grin like usual. “Go enjoy that sweet little pussy. I’ll catch up with you next week.” I strode away, Theo’s whispered “bastard” ringing in my ears.

  The lights of the lounge had been dimmed, low music from the overhead speakers helping to create the mood. A quiet night at Chantelle’s, only a dozen or so people made use of the public area. One sub, a jeweled plug peeking from between her ass cheeks knelt before her Dom, sucking his cock. The sound of slapping drew my gaze to the far side of the room where another sub lay across his master’s lap, hips rising to meet the hand tanning his ass.

  Normally the sight stirred my blood, but I turned away and waved at the club’s owner on my way out.

  Although still fall, warm air greeted me as I stepped outside into Boston’s nightlife. Chatter, music, and laughter rose around me, but I ignored everyone, intent on the parking garage across the street and my Audi R8. Within minutes, I downshifted my baby and headed for Comm Ave.

  I’d never walked away from a scene before—or any chance of having sex. I craved physical touch. Dominating and inflicting pain and soothing the lingering sting afterward.

  Although my cousin understood, both my brothers claimed I was a sick bastard. It’s what I needed to be satisfied though. Vanilla had long since become a yawn-inducing bore.

  Vanilla. Like Cole’s secretary, the woman who haunted my dreams and most of my waking moments. Untouchable, goodie-two-shoes Raquel Hawkins was everything I wasn’t—and goddamn did I want to corrupt her innocent soul.

  My hands ached to brand her round ass. I wanted to clamp and tug on her plump tits. Drive her out of her fuckin’ mind and make her scream my name like a shameless whore.

  A horn blared.

  “Shit.” I swerved back into my lane and tried to still my breathing. Little secretary in her conservative pencil skirts, button down blouses, and damn glasses…

  Fuck.

  I grasped my stiff cock through my jeans and squeezed to the point of pain, trying to calm him the fuck down, while filling my mind with the new logos I’d been working on for Bastian’s store down in Charleston.

  Didn’t fuckin’ work. By the time I got to my condo, I couldn’t wait any longer. Leaning against my closed door, I shoved my jeans off my hips and yanked on my cock while imagining Raquel’s virgin pussy squeezing the life out of me. My balls tightened. Cum shot up onto my shirt and coated my hand as I threw my head back and groaned.

  “Goddamnit.” I pulled off my shirt and wiped up the mess, my mind still in full out need-to-fuck-that-ass-now mode.

  What I really needed to do was get the girl out of my head, but I had no clue how. I couldn’t very well fuck my brother’s secretary and break her heart after I had my fill. No in-house dating, the family business rules stated. Not that it’d stopped me from topping a mail runner a few years earlier, but she’d only wanted a good fuck anyway. Hell, even Theo enjoyed the little strawberry tart a time or two after I tired of her.

  Raquel, on the other hand, she’d want the house with a picket fence and a half-dozen kids. Church every Sunday. Missionary position sex like clockwork every Friday night—and only on Friday night.

  “Fuck that.” I kicked off my shoes and jeans and let them lay where they landed. No way could I get involved with her.

  No fuckin’ way.

  Cole told me she came from an ultra-conservative family, but what if she needed to sow some wild oats of her own?

  The idea halted me halfway across my living room, and a grin formed. I could give her a taste of the good life before she settled down with her perfect little Christian boy who’d follow along behind her like a puppy on her heels.

  Fuck it.

  I would take what I wanted—like always—for as long as I wanted. I was a selfish prick after all. But before I could persuade her into my bed, I had to get her to agree to go out with me. I’d asked countless times and got shot down every single time.

  “I’ll hound the ever loving shit out of her,” I said to myself with a nod, “until she relents just to shut me the hell up.” If that failed, I wasn’t above stalking to find her hangouts.

  A plan formed. Slow and easy, I’d steadily weasel my way into her head and cotton granny panties, get my fill, and get the hell out.

  Chapter Two

  I didn’t even get my purse put away on Monday morning before Zane sauntered into Cole’s office suite, smoldering blue eyes fringed by black lashes latching onto me. Devouring me. An air of authority surrounded him, and I fought the
need to lower my eyes like a cowering pup.

  Heart in my throat, I tried to smile, handbag clutched in front of me. “Good morning, Mr. Risso.”

  “It’s Zane, Raquel.” His gaze slid down my body, backing me against my desk and hardening my nipples. I glanced downward to escape the intensity in his eyes. “New blouse?”

  I nodded.

  “The blue matches your eyes.”

  “Thank you,” I managed to say.

  “Cole in yet?”

  “N-no, sir.” Unable to keep my eyes off him for long, I peeked up at him through my lashes, taking in the hint of dark shadow that always lined his square jaw.

  His slow smile, sexy as all get-out, appeared. I held my breath as he moved closer than a hair, but not touching. “Look at me.”

  An involuntary shudder rippled through me. His voice was like an erotic lure, making me want to fall to my knees and submit to his desires. I tipped my head back to peer into the depths of the eyes I daydreamed about and found myself leaning toward him as he spoke.

  “Go out to dinner with me.” The look of a predator intent on getting what he wanted brought the apex of my thighs to life.

  My legs weakened, and I struggled for breath, averting my gaze to my purse again. I shook my head—as usual.

  “Zane!” Cole’s voice disintegrated the sizzling energy ready to burst into flames between his brother and me and jerked my head back up.

  Zane smirked and slowly backed away, his gaze lingering on my parted lips. “You’re late for work again, brother.” He chuckled and turned to follow Cole into his office. “Gwen’s fault?”

  Cole grunted his agreement, and Zane followed him through the door. It clicked shut behind them.

  I sagged and pressed a hand against my fluttering chest. That man would be the death of me. Or, my downfall at least. Guilt flooded through me as it always did whenever my thoughts lingered on the middle Risso boy. Most women would have cried sexual harassment, but not me. Oh no. I enjoyed the naughty, sensual words he whispered when he caught me alone in the office.

  Legs shaking, I moved around my desk to settle in for the day.

  The boy was bad news. Trouble, my dad had said on more than one occasion. Gossip among my co-workers painted Zane in a horrible light. He was not the kind of man I planned on settling down with, not the kind of man a woman would find trustworthy. Or faithful.

  But holy cow, his suggestive tone and gazes heated my blood and haunted my dreams. More often than I cared to admit, I’d allowed my daydreams free rein, oftentimes touching myself while buried beneath my blankets at night.

  Heat swept through me again, settling on my cheeks and between my thighs.

  Bad, bad news.

  I inhaled to my lung’s capacity. “Temptation straight from the pit of hell,” I mumbled to myself while booting up the computer. Casting a glance at Cole’s closed office door, I told myself I was above such things.

  Before the next breath though, nervous laughter escaped me, and I pursed my lips.

  Yeah, right.

  He thought I was a good little girl, pure in action and thought. While the first was true, I’d secretly read my fair share of raunchy novels. I might have been unschooled in the physical aspects of sexual acts, but I probably had more head knowledge than my parents and married sisters combined.

  And I couldn’t wait to try out all the information swarming in my mind. Within the confines of marriage, of course.

  Zane Risso pushed all my buttons and made me crave a sexual relationship worse than chocolate while PMS-ing, but I wouldn’t give in. Ever. I would save myself for my lifelong husband.

  But, oh the temptation to flirt with sin.

  I chewed on the inside of my lip and glanced at Cole’s office door again. One little taste. Whet my appetite and get him out of my system. Like Ritchie’s Slush though, I knew one taste would never be enough.

  No.

  I returned my attention to the calendar tasks on the computer before me. No, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

  Chapter Three

  I followed Cole into his office, adjusting the beginnings of a bulge in my dress pants as images of having Raquel spread eagle on my bed, tied to the four posts, flashed through my mind. Tasting every damn inch of her skin would leave a pink flush behind same as my flustering her in the office always did. Hardening her nipples. Parting those full lips that tempted me like no other. I wanted her like I’d never wanted another person before. Craved her like a fuckin’ junkie needing the ultimate high.

  I plopped into the closest chair and focused on my older brother as he settled behind his desk.

  “Keep your hands off her,” he said, like the kill-joy, hard-nosed jerk he’d been since our childhood.

  I lounged back, ankles crossed. “Don’t want to.”

  “Goddamnit, Zane.” Cole slapped his hand on the desk, Italian temper flaring to life in blue eyes we’d both inherited from Mom. “She’s not the type of girl you can just fuck and forget.” He drew a deep breath and sighed it out while peering at me as though exasperated with a teenage son. A look I was well familiar with.

  Catholic guilt pricked as it always did whenever Papa or Cole gave me those eyes, and I glanced away, my gaze settling on the rain-splattered window overlooking Boston’s downtown. “Yeah, I know. Can’t stop thinking about her though. Driving me fuckin’ insane.”

  “Go to one of your clubs with Theo. Spend a weekend flogging or fucking everything with two legs. It’s always worked before.”

  I turned my attention back on Cole and caught a hint of pity in his eyes. “Tried countless times since I first saw her. Isn’t working.”

  Lips pursed, Cole shook his head. “Why her? What’s the draw?”

  I could have gone on about her hot, big tits, tiny waist, and round ass—never mind her naturally submissive attitude that made my dominant side hungry for a taste—but thoughts I’d been trying to squash for months filled my mind and unintentionally slid past my damn lips. “She’s everything I’m not.” I shifted and re-crossed my ankles. Might as well throw it all out. “Innocent. Good. Kind and compassionate.”

  Cole’s gaze bore into me but held no judgement. “The kind of woman who might tame you. Temper what Papa calls your wild ways.”

  He hit the problem spot on, but I shrugged a shoulder. She scared the shit out of me, but fuck if I couldn’t help myself from wanting her. We sat in silence for a few seconds, Raquel’s phone a muffled ring behind the closed door.

  “You’ve always followed your heart, but please tread with care for once,” Cole finally said, his voice low and full of resignation.

  I opened my mouth to spill the rest of my guts, how I’d never be content with a vanilla life, but his cell dinged. He grabbed it off the desk, glanced at the screen, and grinned. Only one person brought that kind of happiness to Cole’s face.

  “How’s married life treating you?” I asked as he texted a response.

  “Never been better.”

  I couldn’t contain my sarcastic grin. “Yeah, but it’s only been four months. Give it time.”

  “You’re just a jealous bastard.” Cole put his phone down and leaned forward, crossing his arms on his desk.

  “The fuck I am.”

  His brow rose.

  I shifted in the damn chair again. “So what’s new with Bastian?”

  A wry smirk accompanied Cole’s settling back as he smoothed down his red power tie. “He told me he plans on heading to Tennessee this week.”

  “Can’t believe Papa’s letting him open another store in that God-forsaken place. You know he and Eve are looking to build a log cabin and start up some Permaculture or whatever it is farm?”

  “The kid’s nuts.”

  “Yeah, but if you could see how happy he is.” Jealousy burned in my gut.

  “What makes you happy?”

  My gaze snapped back to Cole, but I hesitated before answering. “Not sure anymore.”

  His blue eyes studied me, doubtless readi
ng right into my soul as he seemed to do with ease. “Maybe it’s time for a change.”

  Change. The word left a sour taste in my mouth. I grimaced. “I doubt she’d give me a chance to change even if I wanted to.”

  Raquel’s phone rang again, her greeting low and muffled. The thought of a vanilla life sent a shudder through me. No fuckin’ way it’d last, and there was no way in hell I’d ever be able to change. For any woman.

  I pulled a memory stick from the inside of my suit coat pocket and tossed it to Cole. “New graphics for the promotional we talked about at last week’s board meeting.”

  “What? You actually worked over the weekend?” Cole laughed as I shrugged again.

  “Couldn’t sleep last night.”

  “Uh huh.” He popped the stick into his laptop and chuckled.

  I strained to make out Raquel’s murmuring, wishing like hell I was a fly on her wall, able to stare at her all day long.

  Goddamn. I scrubbed my hands down my face, my mind a fuckin’ see-saw of indecision.

  “You never know, Zane. Maybe she is the one.”

  Lips pursed, I considered my brother’s words. “She’s so pure, and I’m” —I glanced down at my suit pants and shined Gucci’s— “not so pure.”

  “Ever think she might find a little kink enjoyable?”

  She portrayed natural submissive tendencies, but I laughed, hands sprawling on my thighs. “Yeah right. The first time I try to shove a plug up her ass, she’ll be running for the hills with her Pollyanna principles blown to shit.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t know that.”

  “She probably thinks I’m going to burn in hell for my sick ways. Probably thinks I sport a pair of horns, too. No way in hell she’d ever let me leave a handprint on her ass or stripes across her thighs.”

  Cole’s cell dinged again, but he ignored it. “Never thought I’d say this, but ask her out to dinner. Get to know her outside of the office—without touching her.”