A Game Of Temptation

"Get on the bed."

I lifted a brow. "Why don't you get on the bed?"

He folded his arms across his chest. "Do you want my mouth on you or not?"

———

There were several ways to celebrate your best friend getting hitched off to the man of her dreams. Having sex with a stranger wasn’t one of them—at least Laura didn’t plan on it. But when an opportunity presents itself in the form of an incredibly sexy tattooed man, who was she to say no?

Laura doesn’t do relationships, or dates, or anything related to the subject. She is strictly a one-night-only type of girl and doesn’t go back on that rule no matter what.

So what happens when this sexy stranger Laura hooked up with, turns out to be a close friend of Jack—her best friend’s husband—who had actually been at the party that day, and now wants more than one night from her?

A game of wills ensues.

Will Laura succumb to the sexy stranger under his top notch seduction skills?

Or will she go the extra mile and beat him at his own game?

01

LAURA

No, no, no.

Please no.

I jumped back to avoid the bouquet falling in my direction, but it still ended up right at my feet. My heart slammed against my ribcage as I stared at the bouquet lying by my feet like it was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off any second.

This could not be happening to me right now.

Why couldn’t it have landed next to one of the other bridesmaids who looked more than happy to catch it? Why did it have to land on me out of all of them?

Maybe because my best friend, the bride of the day, had thrown it right at me and even though I’d stepped out of the way, it still somehow managed to hit its target.

Shit.

My eyes darted around and I took in the number of eyes on me, watching me strangely, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Well, they could judge me if they wanted. They weren’t the ones that had gotten their fates sealed by a fucking bouquet of all things.

Grudgingly, just to get their eyes off me, I bent and picked it up, holding it stiffly and far away from my body like it could bite, and walked away without a particular destination in mind.

I ended up stopping at a table of pastries, the flower still clasped in a death-grip in my fist. With my free hand, I snagged a drink off the tray of a passing waiter and downed the whole thing in one go, slamming the empty glass on the table I was leaning on.

“This is a sign, Laura. You’re next.”

The words were whispered into my ear.

I turned and glared at my best friend, Balery, aka the bride of the day.

“Fuck you.” I whispered harshly. “You did that on purpose.”

“I