Seducing the Innocent (A Forbidden Best Friend's Little Sister Romance) Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  About Seducing the Innocent

  SEDUCING THE INNOCENT

  Seducing the Bride

  Wicked as Sin

  About Shayla Black

  Join Shayla Black!

  Other Books By Shayla Black

  SEDUCING THE INNOCENT

  Written by Shayla Black

  * * *

  Originally published as His Undeniable Secret

  * * *

  This book is an original publication by Shayla Black

  * * *

  Copyright 2016 Shelley Bradley LLC

  * * *

  Cover Design by: Rachel Connolly

  Edited by: Amy Knupp of Blue Otter

  Proofread by: Fedora Chen

  * * *

  Excerpt from Seducing the Bride © 2019 by Shelley Bradley LLC

  * * *

  ISBN: 978-1-936596-63-8

  * * *

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by an electronic or mechanical means—except for brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews—without express written permission.

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away, as it is illegal and an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  ABOUT SEDUCING THE INNOCENT

  * * *

  Just how far will she go to keep her secret crush from leaving?

  I’m Kayla.

  I’m twenty one.

  I’m afraid because ever since a sudden, terrible tragedy, I’m alone in the world—except for my brother’s best friend. But now Oliver intends to move back to London.

  I’m in love with him. And I have to persuade him to stay…somehow.

  Maybe if I tell him I’m a virgin and show him just how far I’m willing to go to keep him, he’ll give in.

  Of course, I never expected that he'd be keeping a shocking secret of his own…

  SEDUCING THE INNOCENT

  March 13

  Oliver Ryan was leaving me.

  Tomorrow, I would resume my last semester of college after a much-needed spring break, and I looked forward to graduating in May. But for the first time in my life, I would be utterly alone. Yes, I was a grown woman—at least in theory. I was capable of making my own decisions. I’d been doing that since eighteen, when my mother decided to follow her heart—and her latest fling—to Italy. Of course I could live alone.

  But I didn’t want to.

  I watched Oliver lug another suitcase to the front door, shoulders bulging and arms straining through his tight gray T- shirt. I chewed my lip, fighting panic.

  For the past three years, I’d had two anchors in my life: my brother, Shane, and his best friend, Oliver. They’d taken me under their wing after my mother had skipped the continent. They had been protective and supportive, in some ways more nurturing than Mom. Most special, they’d always been there for me. Vice versa, too.

  Then, nearly four weeks ago, Shane had fallen asleep at the wheel after pulling double shifts at the hospital and hit an embankment. He’d died instantly, just shy of his twenty-ninth birthday. Since then, Oliver and I had been dealing with his funeral, his estate…and the never-ending nightmare of grief. I still couldn’t believe it. The three of us had enjoyed such a wonderful Valentine’s Day together. None of us had anyone special in our romantic lives, so we’d watched goofy movies and gorged on candy. Of course, I’d had to pretend I wasn’t ogling Oliver…

  Two days later, my brother had been dead.

  I’d thanked God every day since then that Shane hadn’t suffered and Oliver had been my shoulder to cry on, my hand to hold, my rock. I’d gotten by without completely falling apart because the stiff-upper-lip Brit I’d come to know and adore had been beside me.

  An hour ago, he’d informed me he was moving back to London. He was leaving tonight.

  Shock still pinged through my system.

  I wanted to beg him to stay. But if returning home would make him happy, how could I be selfish? He’d more than done his duty after Shane’s death. Staying in the house where we’d all lived as a mismatched family of sorts must hurt Oliver the way it pained me. Shane’s absence felt like a black hole, sucking me under when I least expected it.

  I had to let Oliver go, move on. Be happy…without me.

  Shane had bequeathed me his house, which had been paid off in the event of his death. I’d also inherited my brother’s life insurance money, which would help me finish school debt free. I had a roof over my head and I’d never worry where my next meal was coming from. I was smart and I had been maintaining most of the household responsibilities for years. I’d survive alone.

  But somehow, I knew my life would never be right again without Oliver Ryan. Maybe I’d lost Shane so recently that Oliver leaving now hit me with too much too fast. Or maybe I would miss him so much because in many ways he was my best friend, too.

  “You’re really going tonight?” My voice trembled. “And you’re not coming back?”

  He thrust long fingers through his short brown waves, then flicked his blue eyes in my direction. After a quick glance at my face and a discreet peek lower, he looked away with a terse nod.

  I glanced down at myself. Crap, I was still wearing exactly what I’d slept in: tiny pink boy shorts and the matching pale tank top, almost transparent from years of washing. I winced. Oliver could probably see my nipples. And with the morning chill, the hard peaks poked the cotton. I’d had these pajamas since I was a kid. They were too tight, and I should trash them, but I loved the soft things. I could put on a robe. After all, me flashing Oliver obviously made him uncomfortable. No surprise since he probably saw me as his sister. He’d behaved like my second big brother for years. But after we’d settled Shane’s affairs, Oliver had begun pulling away. In the past week, he’d grown so distant that I worried he’d leave without a word if I dashed away, even for a minute, to find cover.

  Secretly, I’d always wanted Oliver. I’d never thought of him like a brother. Yeah, what woman didn’t crave a tall, muscled, self-assured Brit? But Oliver was so much more.

  I was desperate to know why he was in such a hurry to return to London now. Had he fallen for a woman when he’d flown across the pond to see his family last summer? If he had, he hadn’t said a word. Then again, he’d never confided in me about his sex life. I knew he had one. Women talked, and I’d heard the sound bites. He’d been hailed as amazing and talented…and kinky.

  I was jealous. I had no right to feel that way, but the hard knot in my stomach every time I thought about him with someone else hurt.

  “My flight is at five-thirty this evening.” He hazarded a glance at me again, then cursed under his breath. “It’s for the best, Kayla. You’ll be fine without me.”

  With that clipped assurance, he brushed past me and headed toward his bedroom, presumably to collect another of his suitcases.

  You’re wrong.

  I didn’t speak the words, just squeezed my eyes shut and resisted the urge to cry. Once he boarded that plane, I’d be completely alone. Sure, I had friends, but Oliver was the only person left in the world I really counted on. And I didn’t want to think of his departure as him abandoning me, but it felt that way.

  Dejected, I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair. Selfish or not, I scoured my head
for a plan to make him stay. He could be happy here, I was sure. Or at least I could persuade him to explain why he was going to leave me forever and refused to let me come with him.

  Two minutes and sparkling white teeth later, I still had no ideas. After tearing out my sloppy ponytail, I quickly swiped a paddle brush through my chestnut hair. The thick curls hung over my shoulders, cutting dark swaths over my tank and ending at my waist. Oliver had said once that he liked it long and loose. Okay, it was a lame start, but until I could figure out why he was leaving the house, job, and people he’d enjoyed for the last three years, I had to think of small ways to make him happy.

  A moment later, he appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, looking red-faced and infuriated. He clutched my cell phone.

  “Where did you find that?” I frowned.

  “In the kitchen. It dinged, so I picked it up.” His expression turned hard. “What the hell happened last night?”

  “What do you mean?” I croaked. “I went to a party.”

  “What kind of party? What is this?” He thrust the screen in my face.

  The image there made a wild flush heat up my face. I blinked at him. He didn’t show disapproval or disappointment, like Shane would have. But he was undeniably angry. I wasn’t sure what to think.

  “My breasts. So?”

  “Your naked breasts. Someone named Justin texted this to you. Did he touch them?” Oliver glanced again at my chest.

  He, like Shane, had always been my watchdog. He’d kept the players and the losers at bay. Probably why I was still a virgin. But his displeasure seemed more than merely protective.

  “No.” I shook my head. The caress of my hair across my sensitive nipples nearly had me reeling. “Why does it matter?”

  He ignored the question and shoved my phone on the bathroom counter. “Who did?”

  What the hell? “No one.”

  Oliver clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering down to my breasts once more. He pushed my hair over my shoulders, down my back, and stared. My nipples tightened again. There was no way he could fail to notice. I swallowed, wondering what he was thinking.

  “Are you lying to me?”

  I shook my head. “A group of us played a game of strip poker. You know I’m terrible at cards. I’d had a little too much wine. I wasn’t the only one who lost her clothes. Amanda got all the way down to a thong and…” I shrugged. “Justin must have snapped that picture of my boobs when I wasn’t looking.”

  I hoped it wasn’t currently circulating on social media, but my more pressing concern was Oliver. My answer didn’t calm him at all.

  “Take off your shirt. I intend to check you for bruising and whisker burn.”

  “What?” I reared back. Let Oliver see my bare breasts right now? “If someone had touched me, why the hell would you care? I’m a big girl.”

  “Do it, Kayla.” His jaw clenched. He didn’t sound at all like my second big brother, but a jealous lover.

  I began to wonder… Was he demanding to inspect me simply because he thought someone else had manhandled me, or because he wanted to see my breasts for his own pleasure?

  That notion turned me on. My pussy clenched.

  I walked my stare down his body—wide shoulders, a muscled chest, lean abs, narrow hips—and a thick erection tenting his pants.

  If I showed him my breasts, would he see me as a woman?

  I could play this safe and keep insisting no one had touched me. I could tell him it was none of his business. Or I could be daring and try to tempt him enough to stay.

  Panting, heart pounding, I crossed my arms over my middle and grabbed the hem of my tank top. Quickly, I swept it off my body.

  Gaze fastened on my breasts, Oliver let out a rush of breath. “Kayla…”

  My heart pounded. “Yeah?”

  He swallowed, then seemed to recover his wits. He held out his hand. “Give me your shirt.”

  I placed my tank in his palm. My mounds felt heavy. My nipples were drawn so tight, they ached.

  “Come closer.” His voice shuddered.

  I didn’t know why. Whatever the reason, as long as I kept him occupied, he wasn’t packing a bag or getting on a plane.

  With my heart beating madly, I stepped so close to him that I could see every hair of the dark morning stubble covering his jaw and the rapid pulse at his neck. I glanced down discreetly through my lashes. His cock was not only still erect, but even bigger than before. I’d done that, and the sight of him aroused—for me—made me so wet.

  Then he dropped my tank top on the counter beside me and raised his hand. His warm palm cupped my right breast. The fingers of his other hand traced some of the delicate veins under my pale skin, drawing closer and closer to my nipple but never actually touching it. The ache between my legs grew unbearable as he repeated the process with the other breast, but this time, his thumb slipped over one hard nipple.

  I couldn’t help it; I moaned.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes.”

  He hesitated. “Justin didn’t do this to you?”

  “No.”

  “Did he fuck you?”

  “No,” I swore.

  “Good.” He sounded relieved.

  “Why? Do you want me to be alone?” I asked as he caressed my breasts again. “Despite what you and Shane have always thought, I can’t be a virgin forever.”

  Eventually, I’d find the right man to have sex with. But I really just wanted Oliver…

  He swallowed, frowned. “I know. But your brother and I taught you to save yourself for someone who loves you and will value your gift. You should be adored. Justin is a worthless wanker who won’t care a whit about you the next day. You must know that. When I leave, I have faith that you’ll make the right choices for your life and your body.”

  I bit my lip. Oliver knew me well. Despite what I’d said, I wouldn’t go to bed with a guy just to say I’d finally had sex. Maybe I was living in a fairy tale, but I really did want my first time to be special. I wanted to be with someone I loved.

  Like Oliver, who suddenly stared at me as if I fascinated him. He caressed my breasts so reverently I nearly cried.

  Why would he touch me this way if he was leaving? The question frustrated me, made me madder than hell. “Well, now that you’re packing up and heading out, you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll find someone to take my V-card. I’m an adult, so it’s not like saving it is a big deal anymore.”

  “It fucking is.” Oliver shook his head as if he was praying for restraint. “Christ. For that remark, I should spank your ass so red you won’t sit for a week.”

  I sucked in a breath, wide-eyed. Three years ago, that threat would have sent me running for cover. Oliver was the sort of man who meant what he said. If he threatened, he followed through. But today, I wasn’t scared. In fact, I liked the idea of his hand on my ass. My pussy clenched again.

  “Yeah?” I said breathlessly. “What else do you want to do to me?”

  He feathered his thumbs across my sensitive nipples in tandem. My knees buckled. And when he pinched both tips lightly? Tingles zinged through my body. Slowly melting, I sucked in a breath and fought the urge to beg him to touch me more. I forced myself to wait for his answer because this was Oliver. Despite his heavy erection, I wondered if he could really desire me in return.

  One of his warm hands left my breast and skated down my waist, over my hip, to settle there and bring me closer. I could smell a hint of toothpaste on his breath.

  “Have you let any of those tossers you’ve dated kiss you, Kayla?”

  I swallowed. What would he do if I told him the truth? “A few.”

  He scowled as if my answer pained him. “Did you like it?”

  I’d wanted to, but… “It was all right. But clearly, no one has blown my panties off.”

  I suspected Oliver could.

  His blue eyes softened. “Kissing can be wonderful. Someday, when you find a man you care about, one who knows what he’s
doing, you’ll love it.”

  I had a man I very much cared about standing right in front of me, and the thought of kissing Oliver made my body throb in arousal. I swayed closer, pressing my aching breasts against his chest. “What about you? I’ll bet you know what you’re doing.”

  The second the words left my mouth, my heart careened out of control.

  Oliver groaned. “I shouldn’t kiss you, Kayla.”

  “Please.” I was begging him. “Just once.” My lips tingled. Everything in my body flushed hot. Even my skin seemed too tight. And the ache between my legs was relentless. “You’ve already touched my breasts.”

  “Are you bloody trying to kill me, little girl?” His voice sounded rough with need. That excited me even more.

  “Is one kiss asking so much?” I clasped his T-shirt in my fists and tilted my face under his.

  He hesitated for a long moment, his eyes searching mine, nostrils flaring, jaw rigid. Then he grabbed me by the nape, holding me immobile, and slanted his lips over mine. He didn’t merely kiss me. He seized my mouth, tongue stabbing deep. He possessed me, almost inhaling me with his hunger. I kissed him back with everything I felt because this was so much better than any of the fumbling boys I’d dated. His kiss was confident and carnal and mind-blowing.

  He gripped my waist, caressed his way down to the contours of my hips, then yanked me against him so he could knead the cheeks of my ass and notch his erection against my barely-covered pussy. I cried out, but he swallowed the sound with his ferocious kiss, nipping at my lips and sampling me with his tongue before delving back inside.

  Oliver had his mouth on mine, and I felt utterly owned.