Free Surrender to Temptation Part II: Tempted to Rebel by Lauren Jameson Page A

wiped the moisture off on my skirt.
    “You’re early. I’m pleased.” And then there he was, Zachariah St. Brenton, the charismatic billionaire, striding across the ultramodern lobby toward me. Dressed in another expensive-looking black suit that made him look all the more mouthwatering, I began to tremble as those crystal blue eyes fastened on me, warm with hunger.
    My head told me that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—find myself by pursuing a man. Everything else in my being screamed at me to take what I wanted, for once in my life.
    “Come.” Zach held a hand out for me, and I took it without question, just as I was sure he expected me to. I found that I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to analyze my actions, my feelings and my thoughts.
    I just wanted to live—and nothing had ever made me feel more vibrant or alive than this man.
    “Oh!” The heavy balls rocked as I stood, causing twinges of need all throughout my abdomen, and my knees buckled. Zach’s muscular arm caught me around my waist, holding me steady.
    “Maybe I asked too much of you.”
    I looked up sharply, certain that he was criticizing me. I was crushed, because for reasons that I didn’t quite understand, I wanted to please him.
    Instead, the lines etched deeply into his forehead told me that his mind was filled with nothing but concern for me. I was surprised and touched, and it made me want to please him all the more.
    “No.” Zach looked at me sharply as I spoke, the beginnings of a frown crinkling the corners of his lips. He struck me again as the kind of man who was not accustomed to being told
no
.
    “Very well.” Those opalescent eyes studied me for a long moment, trying to unearth my secrets, it seemed, before Zach guided me to the parking garage entrance, where I had parked that very morning. He seemed to be trying to understand me, to figure me out, which puzzled me.
    After all, I wasn’t very interesting.
    “Where are we going?” The balls continued to rock inside of me, moving with every step that I took. My breath was coming in short pants as pressure built in the muscles between my thighs.
    Zach led me past the now-deserted booth where the parking attendant habitually sat, and through a door that I hadn’t noticed before. It led to a smaller, more finely finished garage, detached from the main employee area.
    It held half a dozen expensive-looking vehicles. Well, I didn’t know anything about cars—anything at all, other than ideally, when I put the key into the ignition, they would start. Still, I knew without a doubt that all of these vehicles were well out of my price range. The shine of the chrome, their sleek lines—it screamed expensive.
    I realized in a rush that they must all belong to him.
    “We’ll be going to the Seacliff house tonight, Charles.” I jumped, a jolt of adrenaline shooting through my veins, when a man dressed all in black, whom I hadn’t noticed at all, rose from the folding chair on which he had been sitting to greet Zach.
    “Very well, Mr. St. Brenton.” He nodded crisply, but I felt his eyes linger on me—not in a sexual way at all, but with curiosity. I found myself looking back, in short little glances, at the man who looked like he had only recently joined the senior citizens club—not that he would be joining the backgammon league anytime soon. He was tall, muscular, and stood with a rigidity that spoke of military training.
    Suspicion was etched into the lines on his face. I swallowed, feeling the need to prove myself, though how, I didn’t have a clue.
    “Charles, this is Miss Reid.” Zach splayed his hand on my lower back, and I felt the heat of his body seeping through the thin cotton of my blouse. I shivered, which caused the balls to rock back and forth, and I couldn’t help it any longer.
    A small moan escaped my lips, a needy plea. I had never been more aroused in my life.
    Zach looked down sharply at my sigh, and I noticed his body tensing in response to my desire. He