Sweet Temptations Book 1
Temptation has never been so sweet…
Richard Martin’s life was only just starting to come back together, then she opened the door in that damn little black robe that shows off plenty of leg, and every curve.
She, Rebecca Blaire, the girl from downstairs. His babysitter.
She’s everyman’s fantasy, a big doe-eyed nymph, as beautiful as she is innocent.
Forbidden fruit in every sense of the word.
And she desperately needs his help, before her abusive father comes home and beats her black and blue.
Richard knew he should just walk away. It wasn’t any of his business really, and nothing good could come from going through that door, but then…
Some temptations are just too sweet to resist.
Sweet Temptations: The Babysitter is the original debut from the Lord of Lust, L.M. Mountford, a sizzling tale of lust and temptation that will ignite your ereader and leave you panting for more as it follows a modern man’s journey across the Rubicon.
With all the heat of Sylvia Day but only some of the drama of Bridget Jones, Sweet Temptations is one you don’t want to miss. This new edition includes a sneak peek of its long-awaited sequel, The Boss’s Daughter.
The Babysitter is part of the Deliciously Sinful Liaisons Collection.
He knocked three times and then waited as the sound echoed nine times off the tower’s inner walls. The air was thick with the sickly-sweet reek of drugs and somewhere a couple were shouting, their thunderous curses echoing through the walls like clangs on a bell. However, he was too distracted by the painful ache in his groin to take much notice. Digging his hand into his pocket, he tried to relocate his still swollen erection, but the trousers were barely large enough for him to thrust himself down the right leg. The inner, pent-up, agony persisted, nonetheless.
Shifting uncomfortably, he raised his hand to knock again, only to hear the click of the lock’s inner mechanics unlocking before the door swung inward to reveal a vision of such beauty that Richard’s breath caught, his engorged flesh growing ever more painful. Gone were her tight blue jeans and pink floral top, instead Rebeca had changed into a lacy black robe that was tied around her narrow waist and barely covered her pale ivory thighs. She had also taken her hair out of its braid so that it cascaded down her back in a tangle of lustrous dark curls and framed her soft features.
She lit up at the sight of him. “Oh Mr Martin, thank God, I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”
Once again Alice’s words echoed in his ears and Richard felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he realised he was staring. Flashing a hollow smile and praying she wouldn’t notice the bulge straining against his right trouser leg, he said, “Rebecca, how many times have I asked you to call me Richard? Mr Martin makes me sound like some whining old geezer.”
“Well, you are an old man, Mr Martin.” Giggling playfully, she stepped aside to let him enter. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
“Ahh…tea, milk and two sugars please and, thanks,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm at the joke as he moved into the flat. The layout was almost identical to that of his and Alice’s and he quickly moved down the hall into the Blaire’s living room. With dim, off-cream walls and filled only by a small jumble of cheap mismatched furniture, it looked larger than it actually was.
A grubby old grey and blue denim sofa faced an even more ancient Panasonic television that had been mounted upon a near modern looking glass and steel stand that was certainly more functional than decorative. There was a single, three-tiered, mahogany veneer, bookcase, its shelves sagging under a dozen piles of dog-eared military and spy fiction paperbacks, a ceramic bowl atop a walnut look-alike end table under the window, as well as a massive opening night poster from the 80’s hit-movie Predator that had been framed and hung on a wall. At the back of the room, a tall display case of solid teak stood in stark contrast to the items of veneered plywood scattered around it and held an impressive collection of Rebecca’s swimming trophies. From a young age the girl had been an avid swimmer and had even gone on to represent Gloucester in three county events, but after her parents’ divorce, she had lost much of her enthusiasm for the sport. Now she rarely went more than once or twice a month.
The computer desk stood opposite the display case, the laptop already open and booting up. It was an ancient HP that hadn’t been updated beyond Window’s Vista. Sitting on the threadbare ottoman that the Blaire’s employed as a chair and grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation in his semi-hard manhood, he logged into Rebecca’s account and was immediately confronted by the problem as a virus conjured up an obviously falsified police lockdown. He tapped a few select keys but to no effect. Next, he tried to open the start menu, but the virus brought up a warning box and cancelled the command. Finally, he logged out and entered Derik’s account. The result was the same.
After a moment, Rebecca entered with his tea and placed it on an old Top Gear magazine lying beside the laptop. “Any luck?”
“Does this happen every time you log on?”
“Yes. It’s been like this now for two days,” she replied, her voice trembling as she peered far enough over his shoulder for him to taste her scent, reminding him of the first breath of spring. The scent steeled his length. “Can you fix it?”
Richard didn’t answer, instead, he pressed down on the power button until the screen went blank. Restarting the machine, he quickly switched to safe mode before letting it load up. Again, logging into the girl’s profile, he waited a moment to make sure it didn’t change again before going into its control panel and initiating a system restore to the pre-set point. It was a pretty routine trick that would work 99 times out of a 100, however, when he logged on for the third time, the scowling face of the law immediately opposed him.
“It might take a while.”
Repeating the process of placing it in safe mode, he then filed through the recent system downloads and found that there were more than two hundred from the past thirty-six hours. He deleted them all, sipping his tea and cursing under his breath every time one or a dozen would randomly regenerate. When all of them were finally put down for good, he restarted the laptop and was finally met by Rebecca’s normal background of a ‘Hello Kitty’ poster.
Exhaling a long breath, he gratefully pushed away from the desk and stretched his legs out to relieve the cramp building in his knees. It felt like he’d been at the desk for hours, but his tea was still lukewarm so it couldn’t have been any more than twenty minutes.
Throwing one leg over and around the ottoman, he twisted to face the sofa where Rebecca was now reclining, watching some cheesy Jennifer Aniston rom-com that was playing on ITV2 whilst eating from a carton of ice cream. The sight of her soft pink lips wrapped around the spoon sent a hot pulse straight down his spine and he heard her moan in delight, her soft brown eyes falling closed as she savoured its sweetness…
“There you go Rebecca, all done.”
“Really!” Startled out of her trance, her head whirled to face him and as she shifted the lace of her gown moved with her, flashing him a momentary glimpse of her soft ivory bosom. “Ohhh…thank you, thank you, Mr Martin!”
“You’re welcome, Rebecca.” It was time to go; he knew it as well as he knew the desire stirring in his loins. And yet he could not will his legs to move. “But you should really consider updating your security, or perhaps switching to a more secure browser.”
“I know we do, I keep telling Dad, but he just ignores me. He thinks it will cost too much money. Ohhh…thank you so much Mr Martin, I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Then, almost giddy and still clutching her carton of ice cream, she sprang up from her seat and raced across the room to throw her arms around him in a tight hug. The embrace caught Richard off guard, and he could do little more than bask in the feeling of her young body pressed against him. He could feel her breath on his neck, hot as a furnace and tickling his every weak spot as the sweetness of her scent filled his every breath, causing a fog to descend upon his mind.
Time seemed to slip away. He couldn’t say for how long she clung to him, yet when she finally broke the embrace, he felt light-headed and she couldn’t meet his gaze. A blush touched her cheeks pink and she quickly stepped back. He should go now, this was his chance, before things got even more complicated; all he had to do was politely say goodbye, leave, and then everything would be fine…
Yet the moment came and went, and the silence hung between them as a heavy iron collar, binding them to each other.
“You’re eating ice cream, what flavour?” he finally asked, desperate for anything that might ease the tension.
Rebecca, however, seemed to have forgotten all about the carton and it was only when she looked down and saw it there that she realised icy drops of condensation were running off her fingers. “Ohhh…it is Tesco’s Cherrylicious.” She had such a sweet voice, why hadn’t he ever noticed it before? “Would you like some?”
Damn, he had always had a weakness for cherries. He knew he shouldn’t, yet when she offered him the spoon, its head filled with a blend of fluffy white vanilla and thick gooey cherry, he couldn’t resist and obediently opened his mouth to accept the sweet treat. The taste of it flooded his senses, as deliciously bitter as it was sweet, and he swallowed it all greedily. Yet as she pulled the spoon away, a single creamy drop escaped the corner of his mouth and ran wetly down his chin. He moved to brush it aside, but Rebecca’s spoon was quicker, and she scooped up the droplet before bringing it to her own lips.
“Mmm…delicious,” she moaned, and he realised that it wasn’t the ice cream’s bitter-sweet flavour she had tasted, but his own. Seeming to sense his scrutiny, she suddenly stilled, and when their eyes met, they both knew the truth.