Tempted, page 1
Tempted
Scoundrels, Book 1
Mari Carr
Copyright © 2020 by Mari Carr
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
This story is dedicated to my super fans, who dared me to write this story. The instructions were simple: Write about a pirate and the lady who indignantly slaps him. I give you Jack and Emma. Enjoy!
Contents
Tempted
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Captivated
About the Author
Tempted
They never crossed the line. Until now.
* * *
When she calls in a favor, asking her best friend Jack to perform in a fetish fantasy at the nightclub she manages, Emma inadvertently opens Pandora’s box.
For both of them.
Portraying a dominant pirate forces more of Jack’s secret desires to light. And Emma finds herself enmeshed in sensual explorations that leave her questioning her vanilla existence.
Temptation is one thing. Submitting another. Especially when Jack insists the show’s not over. Until he says it is.
Previously titled Black Jack.
* * *
Be sure to continue reading after the story for an excerpt of book two in the Scoundrels series, Captivated.
Prologue
“Oh yeah, baby doll. Touch yourself just like that. Fuck!”
At his command, the blonde moved her fingers faster against her plump pink clit, her face flushed as she brought herself closer to climax. He stroked his cock harder as the beautiful woman perched on the edge of his desk gave him one hell of show.
Then his eyes traveled to the tableau outside the two-way mirror in his office.
Looking down from his bird’s-eye view above the club, he could see the couple fighting onstage. When the actress slapped the leading man, he felt his balls constrict.
“Shit. I’m coming. I’m gonna come,” the blonde cried out, her fingers plunging deeply inside her wet slit.
He doubled his efforts and increased his pace, rubbing his dick faster when she used her free hand to pinch her own nipple. Obviously into pain, the blonde pulled the tight flesh hard, groaning loudly.
He swallowed heavily then let his gaze venture back to the stage. The actor tightened his grip on the actress’s arm as they continued to struggle. The intensity of the dual scenes was too much and his eyes drifted closed of their own accord as his come erupted in long, hard spurts he barely managed to catch in his palm.
He kept extra clothes in his office, but he didn’t feel like changing. It was a simple thing to capture the sticky fluid in his hand and wash it away afterward.
The blonde—turned on by his response to her performance—came as well.
When her climax subsided, she withdrew her fingers, licking each one clean. She blew him a kiss and then put her shirt back on.
He smiled at her. “Shame they don’t give Oscars for that.”
She laughed. “You always say that. You know you could have a lot more than the peep show if you wanted. Just say the word.” She ran a seductive hand over her breast, drawing his attention to the tight tip of her nipple, now poking through her Sick Puppies concert T-shirt.
He shook his head as he reached for a tissue to clean his hand. “Your shows just about kill me, darlin’. Don’t wanna think about what the whole kit and caboodle would do to me. Don’t think I’m up for it.”
He hoped she’d buy his explanation.
He’d never touch her sexually, never let her get any closer than the desk across the office from him. He looked back at the stage and felt his sated cock twitch again.
Glancing over his shoulder, she looked at the actors on the stage below. “You really get off on watching, don’t you?”
He shrugged noncommittally, grateful when she let the subject drop.
Rising, she straightened her skirt and fluffed her hair. “Unfortunately, I’m late. She’s gonna kill me.”
“Let me take care of the manager. In fact, why don’t you take the night off?” He picked up two tickets to the latest movie premiere from the table in front of him. They were prime seats and a gift from a movie director who regularly attended the fetish shows in his nightclub, but God knew he’d never use them.
Big parties and flashing lights weren’t his thing.
When he handed them to her, she squealed gleefully. “Are you freaking kidding? You’re giving these to me? This is the hottest show in town.”
He nodded. “Find a guy and go have fun.”
The woman hesitated, looking at the stage once more. “What about—”
“Hey. No worries. I own this place, remember? Go out and enjoy yourself.”
She smiled, bending forward to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re the best.”
He accepted her gratitude and her kiss, though he didn’t want either one. “Do me a favor. Go out the back door.”
She nodded and left him alone once more. Rising, he pulled up his pants, refastening them as he watched the actors continue to fight.
A grin crossed his face.
His plan was turning out better than he’d thought.
Chapter 1
“Let go of me!”
“Take it easy, lass. Come peacefully and no one will be hurt.”
“No one will be hurt because I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Black Jack Carlysle tightened his grip on the young woman’s arm. He wasn’t accustomed to backtalk from any of his subordinates and he sure as hell wasn’t going to listen to it from a mere female.
“I don’t think you fully understand your position here. My men and I have taken over your ship. Now we’re seizing our reward.”
“Stealing is more like it. You haven’t earned anything on our ship. You’re a thief and a heathen and— Ouch! You’re hurting my arm!”
“I may be all you say and more, my dear, but the fact remains, I am the captain of this ship and you are part of the spoils of war.”
The haughty woman slapped him. Hard. “We’ll see about that.”
Jack was shocked momentarily. He heard a sharp gasp behind him and knew his men had witnessed her assault. He’d intended to take her below deck and lock her in the room next to his.
He knew who she was. As daughter of the territorial governor, she’d fetch a fair price in ransom.
Her blow and fiery rage ignited his temper and his final destination changed as he pushed her toward the ladder that would take them to his cabin.
“You will pay for that, my lady. In my bedroom.”
His threat pulled her up short and her struggling ceasing. “You can’t be serious. Do you know who I am?”
He chuckled mirthlessly. “I think the question that should be asked is, do you know who I am?”
Her gaze narrowed, drawing his attention to light blue eyes surrounded by thick, long black lashes. Her cheeks were flushed a lovely pink due to anger and exertion. Her breathing had accelerated, each hastily inhaled breath thrusting her full breasts forward. She’d fill his hands nicely.
No, Jack thought. It wouldn’t be a hardship bringing this hellion to heel.
“I know exactly who you are, Black Jack. And if you think I’ll quiver at the mere mention of your dreaded name like the rest of the fools on my father’s ship, then I fear you’re destined for disappointment.”
He grinned, pushing her harder than necessary toward the ladder. She stumbled slightly before catching herself. She was provoking him, daring the devil inside to come out to play. She’d struck him in front of his men.
At that point, she’d lost the right to be treated with courtesy. Now he needed to make an example of her. Regardless of how much that idea rubbed against the grain.
He liked to consider himself a gentleman—usually beyond kind with the terrified women they’d kidnapped in the past. More than a few times, he’d had to gently convince the captive ladies to return home once their ransoms had been paid.
Clearly that wouldn’t be a problem this time.
She turned to face him once more, but before she could speak, he raised his finger. “Silence, woman!”
He didn’t intend to wage this battle in front of his men. It was high time she realized who she was dealing with.
“How dare you speak to me—”
Jack growled. Bending forward, he put his shoulder to the lady’s middle and lifted until her upper body hung upside down along his back.
“What the—”
“I’ve warned you more than once, my lady. Now you’re going to pay the piper.”
* * *
“Awesome,” Emma Potter said, wiggling loose from Jack’s hold. “That was perfect.”
Jack pulled the bandana off his head and stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans. “I feel like a jackass.”
Emma laughed. “I owe you a big one for this, Smacker.”
Jack ignored her use of the annoying nickname. After years of friendship, she still persisted in calling him by the silly name.
She’d given it to him after they’d gotten more than a bit tipsy at a bar the night Emma turned twen ty-one. She’d tripped and spilled her strawberry daiquiri down the front of his shirt. He’d spent the evening smelling like a little girl’s tube of Bonne Bell lip gloss. Emma had teased him the entire night, calling him Lip Smacker.
Sadly, fourteen years later, the shortened version of the name still stuck.
“I don’t think there’s a favor big enough in the world to repay me for this.” Jack leaned against the railing of the fake ship, looking out at the empty tables and chairs of the nightclub as he considered the fact they’d soon be filled with clubgoers, all watching his weak attempt at piracy.
“True,” Emma conceded. “You’re a lifesaver, Jack. Really. I was at my wit’s end this morning. I bet I made at least fifty phone calls.”
“Glad to know I’m so high on your list,” he said sardonically, chuckling.
“Believe me, that call list isn’t one you want to be on top of.”
He looked around and shook his head. “Still find it hard to believe that you plan fetish fantasy shows for a nightclub. I’ve got to admit, when you were making your valedictory speech in high school, this wasn’t exactly where I pictured you ending up.”
“Maybe not, but I bet you knew I’d be organizing awesome parties attended by all the biggest names, right?”
Emma had been the queen of the social scene in high school. Jack thought it had probably surprised more than a few of their peers to discover she had such good grades, given her love of partying.
Begrudgingly, he had to admit she was one of the most naturally intelligent people he’d ever met. She had a razor-sharp mind with a quick wit to match. Her photographic memory didn’t hurt either. Quite frankly, it had taken very little work for Emma to maintain her position at the top of their class. Not that it had been a very large class.
They’d both enrolled in USC and moved to Los Angeles from Bumfuck, North Dakota, determined to escape their small town.
The third in their small gang of friends, Travis, had come along for the ride as well, mainly because he thought living in L.A. would be a lark. Little did Jack and Emma know their unmotivated, antisocial best friend would find his niche in the City of Angels.
“Yeah, I knew you’d plan awesome parties.” Jack reached up to rub his cheek. “Hey, did you have to slap me so hard?”
She rolled her eyes. “You big baby. It wasn’t that hard. Besides, the sound has to carry through the room to make it authentic.”
Jack crossed his arms. “I hope your actress doesn’t have your right hook or I’m likely to suffer a concussion.”
“Not my fault. If you’ll recall, it was you and Travis who taught me how to fight.”
“You were supposed to use those moves on the frat-boy assholes at college. Not me.”
Emma shrugged. “Looks like I got a bonus from my lessons.”
“Yeah, well, you try to lay another one of those bonuses on my face and I’m gonna return the smack. Only I won’t be aiming at the cheek on your face.”
“Promises, promises.”
Jack tried to ignore the way his cock twitched at her taunt. They weren’t strangers to sexy innuendos, but he’d been friends with her long enough to know they’d never follow through on the teasing.
“Speaking of actresses, where the hell is Jennifer?” Emma glanced at her watch for the twelfth time in an hour. “She’s not usually late.”
“Hey Em!”
Jack and Emma glanced up toward the landing that overlooked the stage, where Travis kept his private offices. Jack had teased him more than once about the mafia-style two-way mirror that allowed Travis to watch the show and the audience without being seen.
“What?” Emma yelled.
Jack shook his head and marveled at the fact his friends were running L.A.’s number-one hotspot and not killing each other in the process.
The only reason he could surmise for Em and Trav’s somewhat peaceful coexistence was that they had a shared goal. Emma had always been annoyed by Travis’ lack of ambition, while Travis envied Emma’s ability to fit into any social circle.
Not that Jack had ever noticed Travis attempting to change his solitary existence. His friend seemed to prefer his safe sanctuary above the club, away from people, taking care of the business end of things from behind his magic mirror. He was more than happy to leave the managing of the club itself to Emma.
“Jen just called. She’s got that same damn stomach virus as Marshall. Looks like you’re out both leads tonight.”
“Fuck!” Emma cursed, turning to kick the mast of the fake ship.
“Hey, take it easy on the props,” Travis hollered. “Took me ages to find a carpenter who could build that thing well enough to please you.”
Emma threw Travis a dirty look, but didn’t reply.
Jack tried to calm the storm—a role he was accustomed to playing with his friends. “So we’ll just find someone else. How about we split that phone list of yours? Start at the top and work our way down. Bet we could knock it out in under an hour.”
She shook her head. “Too late for that now. We’ll never find anyone who can learn the part and get ready in just a few short hours.”
“It’s not like there are scripted lines, Em. Isn’t that what you told me? The woman would just have to fight the kidnapping pirate and allow herself to be ravished onstage in front of a horny audience.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and ran his hand along his half-erect, jeans-clad cock. “Hell, you can’t give up now. You promised me a hot captive.”
She snorted. Jack enjoyed the familiar sound. “Christ, Carlysle. It’s not a fucking porno. All you have to do is pretend you’re doing it. Mimic the motions.”
Travis interrupted their conversation. “Doesn’t matter if Jack plays the part or not. Without an actress, we may as well cancel the show.”
Emma scowled. “It’s sold out. Do you know how much money we’d lose?”
Travis rubbed his chin irritably, indicating he knew exactly what they were facing. “Yeah, Em. I think even with my limited math skills, I can work out the equation on that.”
She sighed sadly. “I wasn’t insinuating that—”
“I know,” Travis interjected. His business acumen had taken both Jack and Emma by surprise. The guy was born to run a club—except for the lack of social skills. For that, he had Emma.
“Why don’t you do it?” Jack suggested. The words popped out before he could think better of them. He’d enjoyed practicing his role with Emma and he hadn’t exactly been looking forward to sharing the stage with a stranger.
Travis burst out laughing. “Holy shit. Now I’d pay to see that, and it’s my fucking club.”
Emma scowled at Travis. “Go back into your hole, little worm. Crunch numbers, think up all those grand schemes you’ll make me execute. I’ll deal with tonight’s show.”
Communicating through insults was standard operating procedure for all of them. Travis grinned. “Let me know if you decide to play the damsel in distress. I wanna make sure my video camera’s charged to get the footage.”
“No cameras allowed at Scoundrels,” Emma said.
Travis shrugged. “That’s the beauty of this mirror. You don’t have a clue what I’m doing behind it.”
“Eww. Gross,” Emma called out as Travis headed back into his office and closed the door behind him, leaving them alone once more. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jack scowled. “Meaning?”
“Meaning there’s no way I’m going to dress up like some damn fool and scream my head off while you have your wicked pirate way with me.”
“I see. But it’s okay for me to make an ass of myself in front of God and everybody.”
Emma sighed. “That’s not what I’m saying. You don’t work here. You may come and have a drink occasionally and take in a show, but you don’t have to see these people day in and day out.”
“So you’re embarrassed about acting in front of the employees? The regulars?” Jack didn’t buy it.
