Sin, page 14
“We have a date.”
At that, she pauses. “Do we, now?”
I nod, nuzzling her abdomen while one of my hands skims down her thigh and then calf, only to follow the same path up. Two times I do this, each one stopping at the hem of my shirt. “The entire day is planned and set to begin after you have breakfast. I’m going to spoil you a tiny bit today.”
“Do I get a say?” She’s trying hard to sound put off, but I can hear the smile in her voice.
“You get to say yes and thank you.” Propping my chin on her skin, I look up and catch London fighting back a grin. “Want to start now or when we get there?”
“Instead of being a jerk, why don’t you feed me or point me in the direction of the kitchen? I got lost three times trying to find this room, and it’s on the first floor.”
“As you wish,” I say, standing to my full height and pressing every inch of my body against hers. My fingers at her hips dig in and hoist her up, causing her to wrap those perfect thighs around me, bringing her core to rub against my cock with each new step I take out of my office and to the other side of the house.
Bright blue eyes look at me with a spark of desire I want to feed. Nurture.
I don’t pause or fuck her against my walls like I want to. Instead, I bring her inside, place her atop my granite countertop, and step back. “I made waffles earlier and left them warming, but if you want something else, just say the word.” My voice is gruff, a literal expression of how wound tight I am.
Feet dangling over the edge, she looks at me with wide eyes. “Waffles sound good.” London licks her bottom lip, and I follow the move with hunger. With a throbbing cock.
“How many do you want?”
“How many are left?”
Parting her thighs, I step between them and her heat sears me through layers of clothing. It’s taking every last ounce of strength to not push her shirt up and exposed her panty-covered cunt. “As many as you desire.”
“Two will do for now.” Her tone is breathy, and I also don’t miss the way her chest expands with each deep inhale.
“Okay.” Leaning forward, I nip her chin. “Coffee or juice?”
“Orange juice now and Starbucks later?”
“Absolutely.” Taking a step back, I run my fingers down her thigh and to her knees. “I’m going to get your plate and step back into my office for a few minutes. You have two hours to eat, shower, and do whatever it is women do to get ready.”
“But I have no—”
I quiet her with a finger over her lips. “Already taken care of. Everything you need is in a bag on my dresser. Trust me.”
“Is the blindfold really necessary?” she asks from beside me, mouth in a pout while I drive to our destination. It’s been like this for the past twenty minutes, and I find myself enjoying her petulant act.
Because it is one. Showing just the barest hint of a smile when looking ahead.
Or when I answer with a playful grunt.
Something that a few weeks back would’ve annoyed me, I now find entertaining. The reactions she pulls from me are different, possessive, and full of contentment.
A balance I didn’t have before.
“We have fifteen hours left in this trip,” I say just to fuck with her and almost laugh when her head snaps in my direction. “Catch a nap, Twirl. It’s going to be a while.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“And if I am?”
“The scary part is that I’d still want to go.” There’s so much heaviness in those words. Truth.
There’s something between her and I that while I still don’t understand completely, I can’t deny, and neither can she. We fit. Work in a way that brings out the best in each other.
She brings equilibrium, while I give her confidence.
She calms me where I give her freedom.
I protect and offer a chance to reclaim her life.
She gives me her. A chance at an honest love.
“Why is it scary?” I ask, pulling into the parking space designated for special clientele. The place is somewhat empty now, only a few spots in use as people leave to beat traffic. Putting my Maserati in park, I take her small hand in mine and intertwine our fingers. “Do I scare you?”
At my words, the slight tightness around her mouth loosens. “Not at all. Why would you even think that?”
“Curiosity.” Turning her face to mine, I slip the blindfold off and then wrap my hand at the nape of her neck. I bring her face closer to mine. “Because even at my worst, London, I will never hurt you. The world could burn to the ground and it wouldn’t faze me, yet you—you I would kill for. Trust me.”
She licks her lips, eyes on mine. “You say that a lot…trust me…and the thing is that a large part of me already does. More and more every day.”
“Good.” A rough exhale leaves me at her words, but there is one thing I need to make clear. “The only time I will ever break you is with my cock, and I’ll make sure you love every single second. That you beg me for more.”
“My being a virgin doesn’t bother you?” she asks, stammering as her face turns pink with embarrassment, once again reminding me just how innocent she is.
“The opposite, really.” Leaning over the center console, I kiss her. Part her soft lips with my tongue and steal the very breath from her lungs. “Knowing I will be your first and last is... Jesus, London, I feel like a conqueror acquiring the world’s greatest treasure. You are my reward in this life, and I plan to keep you happy. You will never want another man, and it won’t be based on threats or bullying, but because no one will ever treat you like I will.”
The next kiss is more possessive than each before, giving her a glimpse of the animalistic hunger I’m keeping under a tight control for her.
Fingers flexing over the back of her neck, I tighten my hold and tilt her head. Angle her to my liking and kiss her like I haven’t before. No control or slowing down, I want London to accept this part of me and yearn for it.
To know that while she is my equal in our day to day, in bed I will own her. Will possess her with each touch.
And then, when I feel her body tremble, I let her go.
Releasing my hold, I sit back and watch her squirm for me. Take in a few deep breaths while gathering her composure, but I see the effect.
The outfit I bought for her is simple and comfortable, but at the same time hides very little from me. A pair of black yoga pants that molds onto her every dip and curve, a white tank top with a matching lace bra that shows how hard her nipples are, and a pair of low UGG boots to keep her feet warm.
It’s not cold outside, not the near freezing temps we’re used to, but the evening air still has a small bite to it. Enough that I gave her an old hoodie of mine to use if she needs it.
One that has my name on the back. A gift from my mother I never put to use, but now I appreciate.
“Wow,” she whispers low, almost to herself.
“You’re perfect.” My eyes flicker to those kiss-swollen lips and then to the time on my dashboard. “However, if we don’t stop right now, I’m taking us back home and locking the door.”
“What?”
“We’re here.” Turning the car off, I get out without replying, adjust my cock, and walk around to her side opening the door. “Come along, Miss London Foster. We have a date to begin.”
Twirl puts her hand in mine, letting me pull her out. She stands a few inches from me. Looking at me. “It’s getting harder and harder to pull back from you, Malcolm Asher. Very hard.”
“I’ve never had a choice when it comes to you.” A click of my fob and then I find myself walking with her hand in mine. We make it just outside the parking area when she stops, finally realizing just where we are. “You okay?”
Her mouth is gaping, and her eyes show excitement. “Oh my God! Which one are we doing?”
“Both.”
“You brought me to the Planetarium and the Aquarium. Malcolm…” my name is a sigh on her lips “…you’re killing me. I never stood a chance.”
“Does this mean you approve?”
“This means… I love it.” And this time, she controls me with her lips.
20
THERE ARE A FEW moments in your life that mold your future.
Losing someone you love.
Becoming an adult.
Then, there is that split-second where your heart and mind connect. Where it recognizes a significant shift and the happiness a new arrival brings. Where you feel the worry you carry slip through your fingers, and the world around you fills with brightness.
That perfect instant is where I am right now, watching as Malcolm slips his fingers below the surface of a shallow tropical pool. He’s wiggling two digits as a stingray comes close enough to touch. His face is calm as the animal pauses just beneath his hand, letting him pet it with soft strokes. It’s the most serene I’ve seen him, and I’m enjoying every single second.
From the different attractions—mammal or reptile exhibits—he’s been attentive and informative. Sharing with me what he knows, how he’s secretly an animal documentary lover, and how it’s his go-to when he wants to decompress.
How much he admires snakes but hates them close unless it’s behind a glass enclosure.
How Shark Week is something he never misses and wants to share the next one with me.
It’s a normal conversation. Not what I’ve come to expect from a man like him.
From the men my brother associates with.
More so, after he confessed to hurting Dad and Alton. That my home now is with him.
What should’ve been shocking isn’t, and I’m finding myself being swept away by a deep sense of relief. I’m not upset with him about either one. It’s the opposite.
With my hand over my heart, I can say that I’m happy right where I am. With him.
I’ll even confess to wishing I’d been a fly on that wall when it happened.
What does that say about me?
I can’t think about that now because what comes to mind is worrisome. I’ve never been a vengeful person, but ever since meeting Malcolm, it’s something that comes to mind from time to time. A churning thought that fills me with the need to see them pay.
If I go back home, how long would it be before Alton’s abuse turns sexual?
Focusing on Malcolm again, I push the fear of that thought away and shake off the darkness it brings. Instead, I admire how casual my date’s dressed. Not that I don’t appreciate him in a suit, but there’s something extra sexy about a man in joggers and a T-shirt combo. For some reason those grey sweatpants he’s wearing have become a weakness.
It’s sporty, yet accentuates his solid form. That, and each time his arms wrap around me from behind, I feel him. Every solid inch.
Thank God the area we’re in is almost empty and he’s staying close. Because for as much as the man is possessive of me, I find myself feeling the same.
“Aren’t you going to try?” His voice is sexy. Smooth as whiskey.
“I like watching you instead.”
His eyes meet mine, and there’s a hint of something dangerously provocative flash in them. “You like to watch?”
“You?” I give him a coy look from under my lashes. “All the time.”
“Dangerous creature,” he mutters, but I hear. Also notice the flex of his cock when he turns to me, wet hand at his side while taking the remaining steps between us. Malcolm presses the entire front of his body to mine, and the room becomes hot. An inferno of desire only he can bring forth.
“I’m not the dangerous one here.” It sounds needy even to my own ears.
“You know, one day I’ll forget the definition of the word slow and just take you.”
“I never said we had to go at a snail’s pace, if you…Malcolm!” I find myself with my back to his chest and a secure arm around my hips where he lifts me with ease. My feet are a couple of inches off the ground and I can’t help the giggles coming out of me.
We look ridiculous.
The few people mingling around just look at us while he not so casually walks me out of the aquarium without another word. He doesn’t stop, not when someone recognizes him and asks to have a word, nor when the pathway from the aquarium to the planetarium fills with people.
He’s like Moses and the sea of people make room for the rich lunatic holding his date like a toy down the pathway.
It’s not until we come to the Adler entrance that I sober a bit. It’s closed.
“Hey, you can put me down now. I can walk back to the car.”
“Back to the car?” Instead of releasing, he just turns me around in his arms. Like a ragdoll, he manipulates my much-smaller frame to his liking, and I find myself enjoying it. Feeling delicate and at his mercy is sexy. “Are you ready to call this date over?”
His brow creases, and I reach up with my thumb to smooth it out. Don’t like him upset. “Not at all, but we can go somewhere else too.”
“I’m so lost, Twirl.”
“The sign says closed for the general admission crowd.”
“Oh, that. Fuck, you’re adorable.” A soft smile graces his mouth and I can’t stop myself, pressing mine to his for a small kiss. “Can I get another?”
“After you explain why we aren’t leaving.”
His arms tighten their hold on my hip and lower back. “Because we aren’t the general population, sweetheart. I bought out the After Dark show tonight so it’s just you and me.”
“Are you serious?” Tears spring to my eyes. The gesture is more than sweet and totally unnecessary. “You don’t need to spend money to impress me, but the thought you put into this is appreciated. Thank you.”
“None needed, sweetheart.” He sets me down, sliding me over his rigid length and then offers me his hand. Ignores the small whimper I let out. “Ready to have your mind blown by my chivalry?”
I laugh at that, wiping the one tear that escapes. “You and chivalry don’t belong in the same sentence.”
“So little faith,” he admonishes with a tsk from the back of his throat while placing my hand at the crook of his elbow. When I turn my attention to the entrance again, there’s a man now around Malcolm’s age waiting for us with a smile and tray with two champagne flutes.
“Welcome to the Adler After Dark experience, Mr. and Mrs. Asher.” Extending the drinks toward us, he waits until we each take a glass before speaking again. “We’re so thrilled to have you with us tonight.”
“Thank you,” is all Malcolm says. No correction on the names or the title, which isn’t mine. Instead, the man looks a bit smug about it. While I, on the other hand, don’t know what to say because the way his last name and my first sound together isn’t unappealing. It’s too soon to think about it, but not off-putting. “Everything set up…?”
“My name is Dean, sir, and yes. We are ready to proceed as you please.”
“Perfect. I appreciate that.”
“It’s our pleasure.” Once inside the Rainbow Lobby, he takes us toward the center and stops at the crossroads that lead to two separate exhibits. Dean turns to face us in front of two signs, each pointing in a separate direction. “Do you wish to dine with the moon first or peruse the stars?”
I’m nervous.
Excited.
Out of my mind for what I’m going to do but can’t stop myself. Control this need that’s been burning—being fed by his attention all day. A never-ending game of foreplay.
It’s been a constant bout of attention and lingering touches. Playful one moment and then sinful the next. Roguish smiles thrown my way, and then ice-cold glares toward anyone that tried to get close. If the guide at Adler’s Planet Nine Show or the waiter’s eyes strayed my way for too long, I was pulled closer.
He’s possessive, and I like it. More than.
It’s ludicrous that he gets jealous because I can’t stay away. No one registers when we’re together, and even when not, my mind is always on him.
Why does everything with him feel so right? Makes sense?
Even now, as he walks around the bed to turn down the sheets, I can’t help but find the action sexy. Perfect. Full of those little gestures that people overlook but to me are everything.
“Are you going to stand there all day watching me? Or is this a new habit we are forming?” Malcolm asks suddenly, a hint of amusement in his tone. I notice how much he does that with me—laugh, he lets go of that rigidness that scares the hell out of people; with me, there’s none of that. “Not that I mind.”
The muscles in his bare back flex as he tosses aside another decorative pillow, while his low-slung basketball shorts give me a small peek at the deep V of his hips. I can also see how much he likes my attention. The outline of his cock is unmistakable, and my mouth waters just a tiny bit.
I wonder how he tastes. Will I be able to handle him?
And while the fear of pain is still there, that he won’t fit, I want him.
“I’m just admiring the view.” Malcolm Asher is built like a baseball player: tall, strong, with well-defined muscles. His tattoos stand proud against his fair skin with a hint of a tan, colorful details with dark edges that tell a story. Gives a warning.
Every single one I have seen has a matching theme that is quite clear; I see all. The eyes in their bright blue, an almost identical shade to mine, are a reminder that he has people everywhere, just watching. The owl on his chest stands for intelligence—Malcolm is wise and attentive to details; he doesn’t make mistakes. Dangerous.
“Want to do so from a better vantage point? Or are you scared I’ll bite?” Smug bastard.
“Please do.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but it’s the truth. If my reply surprises him, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks back at me from over his shoulder with a smirk. It’s almost as if he can read my thoughts.
All day—since I met him—I’ve been more vocal with my thoughts. What I like and don’t want. There’s a certain level of ease that’s been missing since Mom died.
With him, I have no fear. No repulsion or wanting to get away.
