Chapter Six
As it turned out, Hades Sinclair lived in the very affluent neighborhood of Westwood.
The elevator in his high rise was operated by a keypad code and when he entered it, they shot straight to the top.
One of the first things she saw when she stepped inside was a wall of glass that put the glittering city on display.
A large living and dining area. The den had a wet bar, but she could not see him entertaining guests as he mixed drinks.
She didn’t know him, but she got the impression he didn’t do friends.
Everything was grand and opulent, from the elegant kitchen to the spacious outdoor patio.
She’d never seen anything like it and felt she dirtied it just by stepping her foot through the door.
She stood in the foyer and she stared in wide-eyed shock at the expensive sophistication.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing to the oversized couch.
“My home was never like this,” she muttered under her breath and carefully sat on the edge. The cushions looked so comfy she might sink in them and never be found again.
“Dr. Michaels should be here momentarily,” he continued. He went to the bar and poured himself a tumbler of dark liquor. “Tell me a little about yourself, Cora.”
“Um, why?”
She could tell she surprised him again.
“Humor me.”
“Okay. Well, I work in the mail room at the LC Group. I live in a tenant boarding house. I don’t drive. And I hang out at the library a lot.”
He blinked, then frowned. “That’s awfully succinct, and I think I already knew two of them. Boyfriends? Hobbies?”
“No boyfriends. My hobby is reading.”
“That can’t be all.”
“I’m surprisingly very uninteresting.”
He downed his drink and replaced the glass on the bar with a sharp click. Then he walked over to her and placed a finger under her chin to lift her face up, snaring her in the dark depths of his eyes.
“You are anything but uninteresting.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Even I heard the disbelief in your voice.”
The phone in his pocket rang and he pulled it out, glancing at it before hitting a button. “The doctor is here.”
The door opened, and a tall, very distinguished gentleman with grey hair and kind eyes walked through.
“Good evening, Mr. Sinclair.” He gave her a comforting smile. “Hello, I’m Dr. Michaels.”
“Hi,” she greeted. “I’m Cora.”
“Cora was attacked by a coworker,” Hades reported, folding his arms across his chest. “The dickhead had his hand over her nose and mouth.”
The nice doctor did his due diligence, listening to her heart and lungs, checking her eyes, and palpating around her neck. When he was done, he stood.
“There’s a little bruising around the underside of her jaw,” he reported to Hades. “Nothing that won’t heal. She can take ibuprofen if it starts bothering her. That will help reduce any inflammation.”
“Thank you, Dr. Michaels,” she said, holding out her hand.
He shook it and smiled. “Have Mr. Sinclair call if you have any symptoms like headaches or blurred vision.”
She nodded, even though she would absolutely not be calling Mr. Hades Sinclair in the future. Now that she told him everything she knew, there would be no reason for them to ever speak to each other again.
Once Dr. Michaels left, she rose and walked to the door.
“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair, for rescuing me. Should I wait here or in the lobby for your driver?”
He stared at her unblinking, and she was unable to read anything in his onyx eyes. The image of a cobra, ready to strike, flashed through her head.
“Are you hungry?”
She blinked, confused. What? “Um. I’ll eat when I get home.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
He stepped close to her. Like, real close. Her body responded nervously with quick, shallow breaths that made her heart speed up.
“Are. You. Hungry?”
The way he framed that question made it seem a lot dirtier than it should’ve been.
“I, uh, could eat,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.
“Good girl.” He guided her to the bright kitchen. “Let’s see what we have in here.”
He opened the refrigerator, then the pantry, then cabinets. All were empty. Now she was confused. Did he not eat in his own home?
“It seems I have nothing to offer you,” he muttered.
“It’s fine,” she said, inching backward toward the door. “It’s late, and I should be getting home anyway. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. For taking care of me.”
He captured her hand, halting her retreat.
With a tug, he pulled her into his arms, and something flared to life.
She couldn’t help but look at his mouth.
To imagine how it would feel against hers.
He was magnetic and although she shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him, she suddenly wanted to know how his lips would feel against her own.
“You should run,” he breathed, bringing her closer. “I’m not a good man.”
“You told me that.”
“I’m a sadist at heart.”
Was that literal?
“Are you trying to scare me away?”
“Perhaps. It might be best for you.” A ghost of a smile tilted one side of his mouth up. “If you stay, I can only give you one night. That’s it.”
The message was loud and clear. He wouldn’t give her any more than tonight. If she walked away, she’d never see him again. If she stayed, she still would never see him again, but she’d at least have the memories. Did she want those memories?
Was she actually contemplating having sex with this man?
“Why do you think I want one night with you?”
“Because I bet your nipples are hard and your panties wet. Should I check your tight, little cunt?”
“Crude.”
He smirked. “I’m a crude man. But I can make you come so hard you’ll see stars.”
“You’re full of yourself.”
“Confident. Give me one night, Cora.”
The pros and cons streamed through her head. Never did she think this evening would end with sex with a virtual stranger. A man who readily admitted he was bad news. Was she really going to do this?
“One night,” she agreed.
She rested her hands on his chest, and the heat of his body seeped from his shirt as his muscles flexed under her touch.
Something arced between them. An awareness that hadn’t been there before.
The strength coiled through him exuded power, but for some unknown reason it didn’t scare her.
Maybe because he’d already promised he wouldn’t harm her.
Maybe because he was the most dynamic man she’d ever met.
She knew, instinctively, she’d be measuring all guys against him for the rest of her life.
As she stared up at him, he got quiet and his gaze fell to her lips.
Nervous, she licked them, and his dark gaze narrowed, focusing on her mouth.
Her heart sped up as he stepped into her space, and she didn’t even try to fend him off.
If she was smart, she wouldn’t allow his touch because something told her he had the power to hurt her, far more deeply than anyone else.
“Do you know what I want to do with you?” he asked.
His hand came up and encircled her throat, but she still wasn’t scared.
Little by little, he slowly tightened his grip until her airway was severely compromised.
Still, she didn’t budge or plead for him to stop.
His touch was completely different from Steven’s.
With Hades, she didn’t feel threatened. How far would he take this?
How far would she let him? The richness of sandalwood and spice teased her nose as his breath fanned over her face.
God, he smells good!
“I’d drape your bare bottom over my knee and spank it until it glowed red with my handprint. Then I’d fuck your sweet little pussy until you’re boneless.”
The naughty image rolled through her mind with the force of a tsunami. Words were elusive.
“I’m giving you one chance to run,” he murmured. “Or I will debauch you in all sorts of delicious ways.”
Would she?
Could she?
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.
“Then for tonight, you’re mine to do with what I want.”
In the blink of an eye her whole world flipped upside down. Would this night haunt her dreams?
The grip around her throat was meant to darkly dominate, forcing on her a sense of vulnerability she’d never shown anyone else. Hades was a different type of man altogether. He took, didn’t give. He demanded, didn’t ask. He lightly scraped his blunt fingernails over her outer thigh.
Small kisses trailed over her shoulder and up the back of her neck.
Warm breath blew against her ear. Her back had always been sensitive, and she couldn’t hold back the slight shiver of anticipation.
The grip on her throat tightened a fraction, and he bit down on her nape.
An explosion of sensation crashed through her system, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“How wet are you?” he asked softly, his mouth right next to her ear. “I want you dripping down your thighs.”
While he held her by her neck, his other hand came up to cup her breast and pinch her nipple. The small bite of pain jolted through her and played havoc with her senses. Then his hand slid down her torso and under the band of her panties, sliding over her slit.
“So very wet,” he said, sounding pleased.
She closed her eyes as he teased her clit. Her breath coming in short, sharp pants. Then he withdrew his hand, and she was left panting for more. He shifted his hands to her shoulders as he turned her around.
“Are you going to be a good girl and bend over my lap?”
This was the moment she’d been unsure of, but she didn’t want to stop, so she nodded. He took her hand and when he sat down, he guided her to lay face-down across his lap. Cora had no idea what to expect.