Tempt Me by R. G. Alexander Page A

giggling like a pair of teenagers. “We know,” one of them singsonged. “But it will be worth it. We’ll call you tomorrow.”
    Gabriel watched the taxi drive away, hoping the driver knew where he was going, because he was close to certain neither of the women would.
    After a few minutes of silence he started to worry she had fallen asleep standing up. “Angelique?”
    “I was hoping you were a tequila-induced hallucination,” she muttered.
    He thought about Emmanuel. “I’ve been there before. Unfortunately for you, I’m real.”
    She sighed. “I figured.” Her hands came up to push her hair back, revealing a rueful expression. “My old roommates. They’re harmless. Usually. I should never have told them about BD.”
    “Why did you?”
    She huffed. “We tell each other everything. It’s a girlfriend rule.”
    He narrowed his gaze. “Everything? Is that why I’m the Gabriel?”
    Angelique lifted her chin, one high-pitched hiccup the only sign that she was impaired. “Yes, I’ll admit to that. You are the Gabriel. But you don’t know if you’re the Gabriel, my mysteriously sexy dream lover, or the Gabriel, my friend’s irritating brother who is absolutely no fun at dinner parties.”
    He just stared at her, and after a minute or two, she began to smile. A minute more and a chuckle escaped from between her lips. She held out her arms helplessly. “There’s no way to get out of this with dignity. And I’m too tipsy to try. I just hope we didn’t wake Bethany up. She’s been really nice to me.”
    He reached out and took her hand, drawing her closer to the door. “Me, too. But we would have known by now. Trust me. Come inside. I’ll get dressed; then I can drive you home.”
    She didn’t argue, and he was grateful. Just her hand in his, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to let her go. The same intensity. The same need as before.
    He opened the door and stepped aside to let her walk in ahead of him. It was an old-school habit with benefits. He closed his eyes as that lush body slid against him, her soft, sweet-smelling hair brushed over his bare chest.
    She walked through the darkened kitchen to the small breakfast table. The outside light came through the window and it seemed to be shining on her.
    Poetry again. He was in sorry shape. It was obvious his resistance when it came to Angelique Rousseau was nonexistent. Hadn’t he told himself a thousand times this week to stay away from her? Now she was here, she needed a ride home, and all he could think about was bending her over that table and lifting her skirt to reveal the biteable ass beneath. She’d make those sounds he loved as he spread her legs. And then he’d take her. The way he had every night in his mind.
    “I’ve been having the craziest dreams about you lately.”
    Angelique’s voice was hushed in the darkness, but it jolted him out of his fantasy. He moved closer. “What was I doing?”
    She turned around to face him, her hand going up to her temple as she swayed. “Oops, I think I turned too fast.”
    Hell, he’d forgotten. “You’ve been drinking.”
    She huffed out a laugh. “Without a doubt.”
    He took a step closer. “I’m supposed to be a gentleman.”
    Her warm brown eyes were sparkling. “Even in my current condition I could argue that point.”
    One last step and he was right in front of her. She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Don’t you want to hear about my dreams?”
    He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms as he tried to restrain himself from touching her. “That might not be a good idea.”
    “There you go again. Throwing down a challenge I won’t be able to resist.” Angelique reached out to touch his chest and he clenched his jaw.
    “You’ve been hurt.” Her soft hand skimmed along his rib cage. Tracing the fading but still-colorful bruises there.
    “You mentioned my bad habits before, remember? I accidentally ran into a fist or two the other night.” He remembered