9. Sylvie
NINE
SYLVIE
The morning sun glowed behind the treetops as I hefted a garbage bag and pushed through the metal back door of the Sugar Bowl.
The air was cool, and a bright moon still hung in the inky sky, casting an eerie glow over the quiet streets.
Clutching the heavy bag, I navigated my way toward the dumpster tucked behind the coffee shop, hidden in the predawn shadows.
The scent of coffee already clung to my skin, a nagging reminder of the long day ahead of me.
Just as I reached the dumpster, a rustling sound nearby sent my heart racing. It could have been a raccoon, or maybe just a gust of wind, but my imagination got the best of me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I listened.
Please be a raccoon and not a serial killer. I do not have time for this today.
The soft rustling sounded again as a rat with its disgusting ropelike tail scurried across my shoe. I dropped the trash, and a scream tore from my throat, echoing into the alley.
My heart pounded like a drum, and my body shivered with a disgusted rattle as I shook my hands and stomped my feet. My mind screamed run , but I was rooted in place.
From the depths of the darkness, a deep voice called out, low and concerned. “Sylvie.”
I knew that voice.
Duke.
Within moments his tall, muscular frame loomed over me, and the intensity in his dark eyes caught my breath. Where the hell did he come from?
“Sylvie!” His voice was rough, urgent, and his hands reached out to my shoulders to steady me. “Are you all right?”
“I—yeah,” I stammered, still trembling from the adrenaline rush as I looked around. “There was a rat.” I shivered again. “Oh god, I hate those things!”
Duke didn’t let go of me, his grip on my upper arms surprisingly gentle.
“I’m being ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, trying to calm my racing heart as his wide palms began to smooth over my shoulders.
“You are not ridiculous,” he murmured. Duke’s gaze locked onto mine, his breath warm against my skin. His voice was filled with intensity, and his eyes moved over my face, pausing on my lips. The dim light of the moon illuminated the hard angles of his jaw, making him look even more irresistible.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him, the charged tension between us palpable. I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and inviting. My body responded, betraying me in a way I hadn’t expected as I melted into him.
I tried to compose myself, to shake off the fear that still clung to me like a stubborn shadow.
But then, without warning, he closed the distance between us, his lips crashing against mine in a searing kiss.
It was fierce and passionate. Heat unfurled in my belly.
Our bodies pressed together, and I could feel the undeniable desire that coursed through him.
My spine turned to liquid as his tongue teased my lips and I opened for him, sighing into the kiss.
His arms banded around me, holding me upright as his mouth moved over mine.
His tongue was warm and commanding, giving as much as he took.
I stretched to my tiptoes and wound my arms around his neck.
Duke’s palms flattened against my back, pressing my chest into his. His heart hammered against me.
The kiss was fierce, hungry —as if all the longing and desire we had suppressed for so long had finally found release. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against his powerful chest.
My legs tangled with his as heat built between my thighs. One hand slid through my hair and my head tipped back, allowing him access to every part of me.
“Duke...” I barely recognized the breathlessness of my own voice. Then the metal clank of a door had us jumping apart.
Duke pulled away, his chest heaving, just as the back door to the Sugar Bowl opened. Huck filled the doorway, concern knitting his brows downward. “You okay, Syl? I thought I heard something.”
I swallowed hard. “There was a rat. I screamed.” I clamped down a nervous chuckle.
Huck’s eyes flicked between Duke and me.
“I heard it too,” Duke finally said. “Everything seems to be fine now.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got your delivery. I’ll head in.”
Without looking at me, Duke stomped toward the delivery truck. Huck stood by the door, holding it open. His lips were flat as he looked between us again.
Fuck. Did Huck suspect anything? Did he see us?
I flicked a strand of hair from my eyes and reached down for the trash bag. With a grunt, I tossed it into the dumpster and smoothed my sweating palms down my apron.
Holding my head high, I willed my pulse to calm the fuck down as I walked through the door, praying I could forget all about the most incredible kiss I’d ever experienced.