Chapter 5
Josette
Should I have left my guest alone in my house?
I had to trust that Indiana would bark if Sin was attempting to rob me blind.
Sin.
Just thinking about his name conjured up dozens of filthy images.
I stood under the shower with my eyes closed, allowing a few very dirty fantasies to float through my mind.
I couldn’t lie and say I hadn’t thought about him, wondering what his full lips would taste like while freezing to death sitting on the cold floor next to Indy’s cage.
At least through all the horror of the day before, I could breathe easier.
And smile.
It was nice to have a man in my house for a change. As the water cascaded over my head, beads hit my aching nipples and I shuddered. What would be so wrong with engaging in the very sinful acts associated with the man’s name?
I was a responsible adult. I’d worked through my phobias over the years. At least mostly. Through Indiana’s help, I’d become a well-adjusted woman. An entrepreneur to boot.
Who wouldn’t mind spending a few hours writhing under a sexy man’s body. As the soap swirled around the drain, the bubbles slowly fading, the other side of me, the one who’d kept me from enjoying aspects of my life, was busy trying to convince me my thoughts and desires were ridiculous.
That was no fair.
Woof.
Instantly, Indy’s bark drew my attention. Lifting my head, I immediately reached for the water spigot. Every muscle was tense. When I heard nothing else, I reminded myself that Indy liked Sin. His reaction to the man had taken a weight off my shoulders, giving Sin a couple of good boy points.
Dogs were excellent resources when it came to whether or not people could be trusted. Indiana had been trained to sniff out danger. He’d protected me from two muggers and more than a share of smarmy salesmen. That’s why I listened to every bark.
With the water off, I cracked open the shower door, listening for any telltale signs. Hearing nothing whatsoever, I nervously reached for my towel.
Woof. Woof!
This time, Indy’s bark was more incessant. Something had to be wrong. I’d barely managed to wrap the towel around me when my pup came barreling into the bathroom through the cracked door.
“What’s wrong?”
Woof. Woof. Woof!
Indy danced, challenging me with woofs and huffs before racing back into the bedroom.
That’s when the unmistakable scent of something burning hit my nostrils. Oh, shit. I rushed from the bedroom into the hallway.
The fire alarm went off.
The stench was horrific.
By the time I made it to the kitchen, acrid smoke had filled the space.
Now that he’d alerted me to the chaos inside my house, Indiana was happy to trot away from the melee.
“What the hell?” I stood gawking at Sin, who had a kitchen towel wrapped around the handle of my finest, albeit cheap, sauté pan, fanning smoke just before dumping it into the sink.
With the water running, the steam was significant, hissing from how hot the pan had been. He turned on the fan over the stove, cursing under his breath as he did.
He smashed his hands on the lip of the sink, shaking his head. The growl he emitted sounded like a wounded animal.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
I stood in the doorway, fighting between laughter and tearing into him for being so stupid. Plus, he’d likely ruined my favorite pan. He’d removed his jacket and tie, unbuttoning his shirt and rolling up his sleeves past his elbows.
His muscles were even more sculpted than I’d envisioned, his left forearm covered in a stunning depiction of a dragon. I could see the fury in his tense body language and the thick cord on the side of his neck. My eyes were drawn to the way it was pulsing.
Since when had I been rewarded with the sight of a man standing in my kitchen trying to make something to eat? At least that’s what I thought he might be doing.
Although at this point, I wasn’t entirely certain.
The noise was grating and I grabbed a kitchen towel, rushing into the hallway and fanning the smoke detector like some crazed woman.
Thirty seconds later, the horrible screeching noise finally stopped.
Huffing, I trotted back into the kitchen.
Sin was still staring at the pan in the sink as if the near disaster was the pan’s fault.
“Do you mind telling me what you were doing?” It was difficult to sound so demanding when he was obviously unused to failing at anything.
In the insanity of the moment, I’d forgotten that I’d left the bathroom completely disrobed, wearing only a skimpy towel.
Until after he’d turned his head in my direction, his focus taking a few seconds.
As soon as he blinked, his nostrils flared in a way that left nothing to the imagination.
Especially when his gaze shifted from side to side as his eyes slowly trailed down the line of my neck to the swell of my breasts.
From there, he kept going and there was no denying the filthy thoughts dancing through the darkest portions of his mind.
Or the increasing hunger as evidenced by the throbbing bulge between his legs.
I wasn’t immune to the powerful, seductive looks given by men.
While I rarely went out of my way to achieve them, being admired by someone so darkly synonymous with unbridled masculinity certainly did something for my self-esteem.
Yet his expression had an uncontrollable feel to it. As if he was losing control. As if there was no chance of breaking the hypnotic spell.
Maybe I didn’t want to.
“What were you doing?” I pushed, fascinated by the change in my tone as I shifted toward the kitchen island. Maybe I needed an anchor to keep myself from freaking out. His aura was much more intense than before, his presence making the room feel small.
“Trying to make you breakfast.” He took a step closer, grabbing another towel and wiping his hands. Even the way he was taking his time doing so was provocative.
Predatory.
Possessive.
“I take it you’re not inclined to culinary work.” I wrapped my hand around the edge of the towel, doing what I could to control my breathing.
The corners of his upper lip lifted into a slight smirk. “Evidently not. But I do have other talents in which I’m much more… skillful.” He inched even closer, his chest rising and falling. Every muscle in his neck was stiff, tendons flaring.
I’d never felt so vulnerable or so attracted to any man in my life. “Other talents.” What are you doing? You’re playing with fire. While true, I wasn’t anxious as I usually was when considering getting close to a man. Instead, I felt free. Alive.
Electrified.
“Um-hmm…”
“Does that mean you’re hungry?”
He was now only a few inches away, the rush of heat shared between us close to being suffocating. “Very.”
“Then I guess,” I said as I dared reach out, tracing the long line of his neck to the edge of his collarbone, allowing myself to go further by fingering his bare chest, “we’ll need to order in.” My voice was little more than a scattered whisper.
“Fuck the food.”
“Really?”
He took my hand away from the towel, pulling my arm down to my side. “Really.”
“Why is that?”
Sin took his time, lifting his gaze briefly to my eyes before wrapping his hand around the edge of the soft material.
Oh, dear God. Was this actually going to happen? I didn’t know the man at all, except that he was a terrible driver and an even worse cook. However, even I could admit taking a chance at sharing something that would likely never happen again was sexy as hell.
He snapped his wrist and the towel fell away. “La perfection totale.”
Utter perfection. He’d used French, which would explain his sinfully delicious name.
“There’s nothing perfect about me.”
With his eyes completely hooded, he shook his head.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He swept his arm out to the side, allowing the terrycloth to slip through his fingers.
The change in his eyes was dramatic, the iciness shimmering as if they were glowing.
Every muscle in his body seemed tense, his huge arms bulging against the tailored fit of his sleeves.
He cupped my chin with a firm grip, lowering his head so slowly I wasn’t entirely certain he’d moved. Then he captured my mouth.
An explosion of emotions as well as another round of twisted electricity countered every second of uncertainty.
Sin pulled me from the edge of the counter, rolling his other arm down my back and digging his fingers into the flesh of my ass cheeks.
When he pulled me tightly against his body, I shuddered inwardly from the way he was pressing his thick cock into my lower stomach.
My God, the man was thick and hard.
There was no denying what he wanted. Or what I sensed would happen.
There was also no denying this man even though I knew I shouldn’t tempt fate.
I’d been lucky and the streak needed to continue.
Nothing good could come from sharing intimacy.
We were two entirely different people, strangers who’d remember only snippets of the passion.
Still, maybe I just needed to lose myself in someone.
If only for a little while.
While my muscles were tense, my pussy was throbbing, the breadth of my desire evident by the scent wafting between us. Up to this point, I would have been embarrassed from my state of arousal and undress, but with this man everything felt different.
As if maybe, just maybe I could allow my guard to fall.
His fingers dug into my skin of my cheek as he pressed my lips open, forcing me to accept his tongue. He tasted of orange juice, the sweet citrus a perfect combination to the toxicity of his aftershave. So masculine. Timbers and spice, the deep woodsy fragrance infusing my senses.
I rolled my hands over his shoulders, squeezing the muscles in his upper arms. I could barely wrap my fingers around them. The way he dominated my tongue made me lightheaded and there were butterflies in my stomach from the heavy sense of nervousness.