Free Temptation, The Complete Serial Series 1-4 (The Temptation Serial Series) by Casey L. Bond Page B

ring. “Hey, honey. Long time no see.” Why didn’t I realize before now how I absolutely hated her voice? Reminded me of nails on a chalkboard or a cat in a swimming pool.
    I shuddered.
    “Listen, we need to talk.” Famous last words, Lynn.
    “About what? I can come over if you want.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, “I bought a little something I think you’ll approve of.”
    “Tomorrow. Stop by on your lunch break.”
    “Sure!”
    “We’re just talking , Lynn.” I let the tone of my voice do the warning for me.
    “O-okay. See you then, Colt.”
    I clicked ‘End’ before she could draw the conversation out another ten minutes with goodnights and goodbyes. It was something she did and now I understood why. She thought she could be the one to break me. She thought wrong, and tomorrow she would find out just how wrong she was.

 
    The following morning was rainy and I was bummed. But when the sky cleared all of a sudden around noon, the pool started calling my name. In Vegas, a rainstorm was havoc on traffic. The roads were continually swept by the street cleaners that roamed the highways, but anything wet made the oils that were built up on the concrete a virtual oil slick. Cars would spin and hydroplane as if they were on a sheet of ice. But in the southeast, rain storms somehow made the air more humid. It made a hot summer day even hotter, my skin sticky with sweat, and the swimming pool my new favorite place.
    I’d had my windows open all morning. Of course, it was only seventy degrees then. But as the temperature climbed, I just forgot about them being open…until I heard a very familiar and unwelcome voice. Was the bitch asking for a beating? I mean, really.
    Lynn’s shrill voice came from outside. I peeked out my bedroom window where Colt stood across from her, his arms crossed over his chest while she gestured wildly at him, screeching about something he’d done or said. How could he put up with that?
    Catching my reflection in the mirror across from my bed, I smiled. She hadn’t seen my new hair, and she definitely hadn’t seen me in a bikini. Last night I was so flustered, I actually went back inside and went through my exercise routine. Crunches, burpees, lunges, and squats—anything I could do in the small space of my living room, anything that would relieve the tension that Colt Stone caused with his easy-going, southern charm.
    The bikini was black. Solid triangles over the lady parts, held together by small black bands that formed intricate, interwoven patterns over my hips and back. It looked like some of the sets I had from Agent Provocateur.
    Sexy.
    Scandalous.
    Just what she wouldn’t want to see.
    Would Colt want to see it?
    Maybe. Maybe not. It might make Willy happy, though.
    Grabbing a towel and my Fifty Shades paperback, I put them in a bag with my iPod and egg speaker. I slipped on my matching black flip-flops and aviators, tied the towel around my waist, and headed out back to the pool, acting as if I didn’t know the feuding lovers were outside. Time to fuel that fire.
    At the bottom step, Colt saw me and stopped mid-sentence, mouth agape. Following his lead, Lynn looked my way. “Who is that ?”
    Willy popped up from behind some bushes to my right, effectively scaring the shit out of me. “Good afternoon, Miss Brooklyn!”
    “Brooklyn!” Lynn screeched to Colt. “The Vegas slut?”
    I snorted. “Is that what they’re saying?”
    “Isn’t it true? You’re some kind of Vegas show girl, right?”
    I smiled sweetly. “I’m a performer in a burlesque show, yes. But I’m no stripper, slut, whore, show girl, hooker, or anything else. I dance. I sing. And I love every minute on that stage, so you can shove that fact straight up your—“
    “Enough,” Colt stopped me. Then he continued, “Lynn, this conversation is done. Time for you to go back to work.”
    She shook her head and flapped an arm toward me accusingly. “And leave you here with her ? No