Just One More Temptation (The Sterling Family Book 4)

Fallon’s bold move startled Noah and he froze for a brief second before reacting, instinct causing him to take over. A low growl escaped his throat as he braced his hands on either side of her face and his tongue teased her lips, pushing past the closed barrier.

Their mouths were fused, tongues tangling, as he tasted the slightly tart yet sweet cranberry juice on her breath. Once her lips parted, she gave willingly, the kiss turning hot and heavy in an instant. Kissing her felt right and when she moaned, rubbing her breasts against his chest despite the fabric between them, he wanted to give her more.

Alone in the alley, he moved one hand to her skirt and began to bunch it up until he reached the hem, enabling him to slide his hand beneath. He slid a hand over her sex, finding her soaking wet for him.

“Jesus, sweetheart.” She was so wet he could feel it through her underwear. He slid his thumb over her clit and she jerked her hips toward his finger. “Do you like that? Does it make you wetter?” he asked, pressing in.

“Harder, Noah,” she said, curling her fingers into the material covering his shoulders, pinching his skin.

He dipped his hand beneath the waistband of her barely-there panties, finding a small patch of hair, and when he inched lower, her wet pussy. Meanwhile, his cock was hard and aching against the rough denim, his boxer briefs not providing enough of a barrier.

He’d lost his mind, he thought, pinching her clit, then soothing her with small circles before repeating the action. There was a club of people nearby including her brothers inside and he had his hand up her skirt while she writhed against him, seeking relief.

Something about Fallon made him lose control and whatever common sense he possessed because instead of stopping, he picked up his pace, his movements harder. She liked the small bite of pain he doled out, arching her hips after each pinch, and whispering harder in his ear.

He flicked the tiny bud with his thumb and forefinger, then slid one digit inside her wet heat. “I need to come,” she said on a whimper, her sex squeezing his finger, his dick throbbing harder. He pumped into her, thrusting in and out, rubbing against her sensitive inner wall.

Her panting became frantic and soon she began to come, her pussy fluttering around his finger, and she cried out, forcing him to place a hand over her mouth so she didn’t draw attention to them.

He mentally shook his head at the foolishness of his behavior, all the while, softening his movements and letting her come down from the high she’d just found. He removed his hand from her body, then her panties, adjusting them as best he could.

“I’ve got it,” she said, her cheeks flushed with desire.

They each pulled themselves together in silence, her fixing her skirt, his conscience berating him while his dick was still rock hard. He knew what he’d be doing as soon as he got home tonight, he thought, figuring the shower was his safest bet to find relief. The girls never walked in on him there.

The girls. Fuck. The thought reminded him of who he was and what was important.

“Noah.” Fallon’s husky voice stopped him from beating himself up more.

He studied her, her lips puffy, her cheeks also red from his move to keep her quiet. He hoped she didn’t have the regrets he had. His being that he’d finger fucked her outside knowing someone could walk by and see. Not that he’d kissed her back and made her come. He couldn’t bring himself to regret either of those things.

“Are you okay?” he asked in response.

She nodded, a small smile tugging her lips upward. “I’m so good. Come home with me so I can reciprocate,” she said softly.

He was shaking his head before he even thought things through. He’d taken advantage of her enough tonight. She was tipsy and he was coming off learning about her painful past with a man close to his age. He’d taken things far enough tonight.

He needed to decide what he wanted from her before he took things any further because she deserved a lot more than a man who would break her heart again.

“Let me take you home. You’ve had more than a couple of drinks. If this happens between us, it’s going to be when you’re completely sober.”

He felt like shit when she ducked her head and said, “I came with Brooke. We’ll go home together.” Her cheeks were red, this time from embarrassment, and he kicked his ass the whole way back into the bar.

But there was nothing he could have done to change his answer tonight.

* * *

Noah just had to be a gentleman, Fallon thought the next morning, as the real mortification of what she’d done set in. She’d thrown herself at the man. After he’d made her come against the wall in the alley because she’d kissed him first.

“I am never drinking again,” she muttered.

“I agree. I have a splitting headache,” Brooke, who’d slept over, said, padding her way into the kitchen looking as shitty as Fallon felt. She picked up a coffee pod and popped it into the machine, making herself a cup of coffee.

Fallon took a sip of her own, savoring the flavor and waiting for a jolt of caffeine.

“You were pretty quiet last night in the Uber home. Want to tell me what had you so off?”

“I made out with Noah. I know that sounds like a teenage thing to say but looking back, that’s how it felt. I kissed him first and next thing I knew, we were in the alley and… well, you can imagine.”

Brooke’s eyes opened wide. “Fallon Sterling, you dirty girl,” her friend said, laughing. “Go you. So what happened?”

“I asked him to go home with me and he turned me down.” Even now she felt the heat of embarrassment over his rejection rise to her cheeks. “He said I was tipsy and he wouldn’t take advantage.”

Brooke treated her to a smile, her lips turning upward, as she nodded, obviously impressed. “A chivalrous guy in this day and age. Color me impressed.”

“Or turned off by my forwardness. And he’s not a guy, he’s a man. An older man and if you remember, I’ve sworn off having anything to do with those.”

Brooke sighed. “No two men are alike. You know this.”

She wasn’t ready to think about the truth in her friend’s statement. Instead, she looked at her Apple Watch. “Okay. Saturday’s a busy day at the gallery, so I need to get moving.”

Brooke waved a hand. “Fine. Try and ignore my wise words but I’ll be right here to remind you.” She placed her coffee mug in the sink, rinsed, and put it in the dishwasher.

Fallon did the same. “What are you up to today?”

“I need to go home and do laundry,” Brooke said with a roll of her eyes. “Everyone’s least favorite chore.”

Once they were ready, they parted ways, Brooke taking a car home to the gatehouse where she lived with her mom while she saved money, and Fallon took the subway to work. Unlike Jared who preferred a driver, she and Aiden preferred the subway. It was faster than sitting in traffic.

A little while later, she arrived at the gallery, stopping at the café on the corner to buy a breakfast treat. She walked through the door, a bag with a scone inside in one hand, to find Clara had arrived early. She sat in the back behind her desk, Oliver peering over her shoulder. No doubt she had the gallery financials pulled up on the computer because that was the only thing he was interested in when it came to the business. The accounting, not the art.

“Good morning,” Fallon said, keeping her voice cheery despite Oliver’s unwanted—at least by her—presence.noveldrama

“Hello, Fallon,” he muttered, straightening from his position by the computer.

“Good morning,” Clara said, in a dull voice.

One look at Clara and Fallon knew something was wrong. Her face was pale and her lips were pursed tight. “Is everything okay?”

“Mother was just telling me she wasn’t feeling well. She’s nauseous and dizzy,” Oliver said.

Fallon immediately walked over to her friend and sat down across from her antique desk. “I think you should make a doctor’s appointment with your cardiologist,” she murmured. “Maybe it’s something related to your heart condition.” Reaching out, she covered Clara’s more weathered hand with her own.

“Or maybe it’s a virus and she just needs to go home and rest,” her son said.

Fallon narrowed her gaze. At his mother’s age, it was careless to make assumptions about what was wrong with Clara. “Clara, can I at least take you home?” she asked. Although she hated to leave Oliver here alone, he could handle business until she returned.

“That might be best,” Clara said. “I’m quite dizzy.”

“I’ll take you.” Oliver spoke in a tone that didn’t allow for an argument, especially when he grasped his mother’s elbow and helped her from the chair. “Let me get you settled in bed. I’ll make your favorite tea,” he said, then glanced at Fallon. “Mother loves the tea I brought back from abroad. Are you sure you don’t want to try some? The spiced chai is delicious.”

“No,” she said, more firmly than she had the last time he’d offered. Maybe he’d stop trying to push his tea on her.

He readied his mother to leave, making sure she had her purse, and waited for Fallon and Clara to coordinate opening tomorrow if Clara needed to stay home. He tapped his foot in a steady beat, his impatience showing.

“Sylvie will be here soon to help cover the floor. Don’t worry about a thing. I can run this place for as long as you need.”

Clara smiled. “I know you can. You’re indispensable to me.”

Her throat filled with emotion. Clara and her kindness often collided with memories of her mother. They were both lovely, refined, and so sweet.

“Go home and rest,” she said, studying Clara, concerned about her pallor. “I’ll call you later and see how you’re feeling.”

Oliver visibly gritted his teeth. “She has me. She’ll be fine,” he bit out.

Was it jealousy over their relationship? Fallon shrugged and decided not to waste any more time thinking about Oliver and his eccentricities. The last thing she wanted was to upset an already ill Clara.

Oliver and his mother departed, leaving Fallon alone at the gallery. The weather was gorgeous and the day passed quickly, a ton of browsers coming in and out. She sold one of her favorite pieces to a man who needed an anniversary gift for his wife, promising to deliver while she was at work next week.

When she finished, Fallon walked into the painting side where Sylvie was setting up the easels for tonight’s group of women. They’d booked the evening to celebrate someone’s thirtieth birthday, and those type of evenings usually meant a lively group. Although she usually enjoyed overseeing them, she was glad Sylvie was managing the night alone.

She and Sylvie talked for a bit, then Fallon left her alone to finish readying the room. Back at Clara’s desk, she picked up her bag which she’d stored beneath the desk after the other woman left, accidentally moving the mouse. The computer came to life. Sure enough there was a P&L statement on the screen. With a sigh aimed at Oliver, who’d probably been asking his mother for money, she shut down the machine for the night.

She glanced at her watch and saw it was almost five. Time to head home where she planned to pour herself a glass of pinot, take a warm bath, and not masturbate to thoughts of Noah.

The chime of her cell phone was a welcome interruption and she hoped it was one of her siblings so she could make dinner plans during the week. A distraction was exactly what she needed to take her mind off of the man who’d turned her down, even if it had been the right thing to do. She’d been tipsy enough to suffer a hangover the next morning, so she was glad he’d respected her enough to say no. Even if it hurt her feelings.

Retrieving her phone from inside her bag, she was shocked to see Noah’s name on the screen. After two run-ins with the girls, she’d saved his number and her stomach fluttered at the sight.

She swiped to answer the call. “Hello?”

“It’s her!” she heard a familiar girl’s voice say.

“Say hello!” her sister said.

“Dylan or Dakota?” she asked, laughing.

“Dakota, and I don’t have a lot of time. I borrowed Daddy’s phone.”

Why was she not surprised, she thought and shook her head in amusement. “Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Daddy might come back any minute and he can’t know we’re calling. So, when can we come paint like you promised?”

No point in telling the girls their father would see her number in the list of calls and realize what was going on. They’d find out soon enough.

“I think that’s up to your dad.” He’d have to call her and set up a time.

Dakota groaned. “He’s been busy makin’ nanny appointments with people we are not going to like.”

“We really won’t!” Dylan chimed in. “But Aunt Shannon has the flu and Grandma said she can’t watch us every day. Just the days she doesn’t have cansta.”

Cansta? Fallon was going to have to figure that one out later.

“You haven’t even met the person yet. How do you know you won’t like them?” she asked.

“We just know…” the young girl said, drawing out the word.

“Dakota Powers, who are you on my phone with?” Noah’s angry voice sounded.

“Uh-oh, gotta go!”

Fallon expected her to disconnect the call but instead she heard Noah’s deep, sexy voice. “Hello?” he asked more than stated.

She gripped the phone harder. “Hi, Noah. It’s Fallon.”

“Girls!” he bellowed at them. “Go to your room and we’ll discuss you sneaking my phone off my dresser later.”

“Hey, Fallon.”

“Hi.” The word came out mid-laughter. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. They’re just so… so… precocious,” she said.

“That’s one word for it. I’m sorry they bothered you.”

She envisioned him running a hand through his hair, tousling the soft strands in frustration. “They’re no bother. Honestly. I enjoy them.” Probably more than she should considering she was attracted to their father.

He cleared his throat. “I meant to stop by today to talk. About Friday night. But my sister had the flu and couldn’t watch the girls and Mom had her weekly canasta game.”

“Canasta,” she said, the word now making sense. “So that’s what cansta means.” She let out another laugh.

“Yes.” Even he chuckled. “What did they want?” he asked of his daughters.

“To plan a time when they can come paint. They said you’re busy scheduling nanny appointments, and I quote, with people they’re not going to like.” She paced around the back area of the gallery as she spoke.

Another groan left his throat. “I do not know what I’m going to do with them. My family is helping when they can but my brothers work and you know the rest. Speaking of work, I need to get back to it. At least my mother has them tomorrow.”

She felt for him. She really did. “Well, why don’t we plan something they can look forward to? That might ease the pressure a little if they’re excited about something. I can work with them tomorrow night. We aren’t booked for a party and we aren’t open Tuesday evenings for painting, so no one will come in at the last minute.” Painting wasn’t something they did every night of the week.

“I hate to reward them but truthfully, that would be perfect. If I can’t leave the office by five, my sister can take them for dinner—assuming she’s better—and come by the gallery after, if that works for you?”

“It does.” And Fallon was looking forward to spending time with the twins.

“Thanks. Now I have to go discipline two naughty nine-year-olds.”

“Good luck,” she said with a smile on her face.

“Fallon?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes?”

“We will have that talk.”

She’d blocked out his mention of that comment in the beginning of the conversation and there wasn’t much she could say now. She had a hunch when Noah wanted something, he knew how to get it.

She wondered if that included her.