Surrender to Temptation Part III: Tempted to Obey by Lauren Jameson Page A

me.”
    I looked up, but I had nothing to say. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t embarrassed. I just didn’t know how much longer I could play his games.
    “Come here.” Hauling me to my feet, Zach wiped my face with the tail of his shirt. He wiped away most of my makeup with it, but I didn’t care.
    I was strung tight, and yet peacefully empty. It was incredibly strange.
    “Devon.” Zach growled when I refused to look him in the eye. Lowering his head to mine, he claimed my mouth with his own. Forcing his tongue past my lips, he claimed me with his kiss, branding me. He had to have tasted his own release on my skin, but he didn’t seem to care.
    His lips moved to the curve of my neck, and as they did he slipped his hand between my legs. I cried out softly when his skilled fingers found my clit. He manipulated the engorged nub skillfully and I came apart beneath his touch, screaming as the pressure inside of me finally exploded.
    He held me to him until my shudders quieted, then smoothed my skirt back over my hips. My tears ran freely then, purging my flesh of all of the nasty emotions that I had been clutching at so tightly—my devastation and the sense of inferiority from seeing Tom again, the anger at Zach, even the guilt over not living up to what my parents had expected me to be.
    Embarrassed, I shrugged my face into my shoulder to dry my tears as Zach undid his belt from my legs, my panties from my wrists. After a long moment he tucked them back into his pocket.
    They were far too stretched out to wear.
    I was silent as I massaged sensation back into my wrists, assessing the situation as Zach pulled out his cell phone. We were in the elevator at Phyrefly. Surely by now someone had noticed that it was stuck between floors. That someone was going to know exactly what had transpired as soon as we started moving again and I had to step off onto my work floor, my clothes wrinkled, my hair a snarled mess, and my makeup smeared across my face. Tears had left salt tracks down my cheeks, and I smelled of sex and of Zach.
    “Mrs. Gallagher. This is Mr. St. Brenton. I have sent Miss Reid on a personal errand for me. She won’t be returning this afternoon.” There was that thoughtfulness again, shown in his understanding that I couldn’t face my colleagues right then—and possibly ever again.
    “Philippa. Are there any meetings waiting on me? No? All right, then. Please head down to the Starbucks on the corner and get me a venti dark roast, black. Yes, you.” As he ended his call, Zach ran his key card in front of the elevator sensor again and then slammed a fist into the button for the top floor—his floor.
    “Zach, I can’t take any more today.” My voice was tired. The day had been an emotional roller coaster.
    I wanted to go to bed. And when I got there, I wanted to sleep. I needed time to think about how I was feeling.
    How could he inspire such passion in me, how could he make me want to do these dirty things, when he hadn’t told me straight out that he felt as strongly as I did?
    “I’m taking you to my office so that you can clean up.” His voice was steady, but was underlaid with something that I couldn’t quite identify. “I have a shower, and something that you can change into. Then I’ll have Charles take you home.”
    I almost corrected him, reminding him that I didn’t currently have a home, since the hotel where I was staying certainly didn’t count. But what did it matter, really?
    I needed some space. I was seriously freaked-out.
    The elevator doors opened onto an empty reception area on Zach’s floor. I was thankful that he had had the foresight to send Philippa the paper-doll princess on an errand, and I smirked a bit to myself at the thought of just how disgruntled it must have made her.
    “The bathroom is through there. There are towels, soap, a robe— use whatever you need.” For the first time since I had met him, Zach sounded off of his game. Avoiding eye contact, I hurried into