I nodded even though I didn’t really want to be alone with Sinclair. Cosima’s advice had given me a new lease on the idea of a holiday affair but I still wasn’t sure if I could face sex without intimacy. Even with a man like Sinclair.
When I remained facing away from him for a few moments and he didn’t speak, I wondered if he had left. But two knuckles drew delicate lines down the bare skin of my back and a second later his front pressed into me. One hand pressed against my hip, pushing us gently together, and he placed a heartbreaking kiss where my neck met my shoulder.
“I’ve made a decision.” I could feel him, hard already against the small of my back and a violent shudder wracked my frame. “Would you like to know what it is?”
His hand moved from my hip up over the curve of my waist between my breasts to my neck where he wrapped his fingers one by one over my throat to tip it for better access to his lips.
“Yes.” I was too enraptured with him to be aware of my surroundings but I was vaguely conscious of the fact that we stood in public beside a very crowded pool. When I tried to pull away, his hand tightened slightly around my neck.
“I’ve decided that we are going to have an affair.” He ran his nose up the side of my neck and gently nipped my ear. “I know you want me, Elle, I can feel it in your lush body. I know you’re scared that I’ll ruin you for other men.” His other hand made its way around my back down over my rump to tickle the skin of my inner thigh. “It will be worth it.”
Oh, I didn’t doubt it. I was already damp with arousal and trembling with need. My mind was whirring with thoughts of his lean fingers on me, in me, how he would taste in my mouth and feel inside of me.
“Do you believe me?” he crooned.
I nodded my head slightly and dropped it back against his shoulder. As I did so, I caught the eye of a tall, willowy woman walking by herself over to the bar. She was pretty but it was the expression on her hard features that doused me like a bucket of ice water. Condemnation. Of course, she couldn’t have known anything about our situation, who Sinclair or I was, but her look of disgust still quieted my lust and I shoved away from Sinclair abruptly.
He stared at me expectedly as I swirled to face him and when I glared, he lifted his palms in the air like an innocent. I almost laughed.
“I know the sex will be great,” I said, surprised by my own boldness. He rewarded me with a slight smile. “But I told you last night, I just don’t think I’m comfortable sleeping with someone I know nothing about.”
He tucked his hands in his pockets and sighed heavily. “What do you want to know?”
I had so many questions it took me a moment to make sense of my thoughts. I gestured for him to take the seat next to mine and when he hesitated, I narrowed my eyes. With an exasperated shake of his head, he sat down, bracing his forearms on his knees so that he was still too close for me to think clearly.
“I don’t need to know the specifics, in fact, I don’t even want to.” His eyebrows arched incredulously but I ignored him. “I want you too badly to care if I know your last name or where you live. But I feel uncomfortable, like if I ask you the wrong question you’ll be angry with me.”
“You want boundaries,” he confirmed, his eyes suddenly effervescent with intrigue. “Rules.”
I nodded even though the look in his eyes gave me pause. “Exactly.”
His slight smile was wicked, his voice like smoke. “Rules I can do. Number one: no personal specifics such as full names, location, family etc. As we are both here for work, I think some discussion of the matter is acceptable.”
I sat down across from him with a sigh. “So, we can talk about business and sex?”
At my less than enthusiastic tone, he grinned. “Trust me, both are infinitely interesting. Number two: if we do this, we do it my way.” Automatically, I frowned but he placed one hand on my knee, lightly brushing the tender skin on the inside of my leg until I was soothed. “You belong to me for the next six days.”
My mind protested loudly at such a possessive statement but my body reacted positively, warming and liquefying until I was pliant as warm dough.
“Before you argue with me, think about the practicalities.” His fingers were moving softly, teasingly over the inside of my trembling thighs. “You don’t have someone else in mind for a holiday affair, do you? No, I didn’t think so. As you said, you don’t have much experience with these things. But you’re eager to learn, aren’t you, Elle?”
I was too focused on his fingers – now at the apex of my thighs, lingering over my bikini-clad core – to answer. We were tucked into a reasonably unpopulated corner of the pool and I was grateful for the rock formation concealing us from most of the swimmers.
“It turns you on,” Sinclair continued in velvet tones, “to have me touch you here.” His fingers slipped under the elastic of my bathing suit and he hummed at finding me wet. “When anyone could pass by and catch us.”
I shook my head, but I wasn’t fooling anyone. My knees quivered slightly as the pad of his thumb feathered lightly over my clit.
“Be mine for the week, Elle. Let show you how many ways I can make you come.”
Without warning, two fingers plunged into my wet core and I moaned involuntarily. He shifted slightly to block the view of me from across the pool and tilted his fingers to find my sweet spot.
My orgasm descended quickly, a short, sharp burst of exquisite pleasure radiating from beneath Sinclair’s skilled fingers. My knees quaked and I let out a soft cry before slumping forward. He caught me on his shoulder and ran his free hand down my back soothingly. To anyone watching we probably looked like a sweet couple embracing. No one could see his hand skillfully bringing me down from my high with delicate finesse. My nose was at his warm throat and his scent, coupled with my post-orgasm state, made me dizzy.
After a minute or two, he gently pulled his hand away from between my thighs and righted me. I stared at him with drowsy half lidded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked. A tremor sparked at the base of my spine and I shivered.
“You taste like honey,” he murmured. His eyes burned so bright a blue that I blinked.
I knew I should say something, but my mind was dumb with bliss and when I opened my mouth all I could find was, “Thank you.”
His eyes widened and one corner of his mouth rose in a smirk. “You are most welcome, Elle.”
I laughed at myself. “I’m sorry, I just don’t normally do things like this.”
I closed my legs and reached for my cover up. It was easier to concentrate when I was covered.
“But you’d like to, wouldn’t you?” he asked, darkly.
I licked my lips nervously and watched his eyes map the path of my tongue. My body was still soft and warm from coming and while I couldn’t believe he had just skillfully brought me to climax beside a very public pool, that I had allowed myself to do that, there was no denying that it had been the most exciting experience of my life. It was only a week, I reminded myself, and nothing irrevocable could happen in such a short time.
“Yes.”
He nodded, not surprised this time by my acquiescence. “Don’t play with me. I need you to mean it.”
“I do.” I stared at him with earnest eyes and watched as his stern features relaxed into a slightly boyish grin.
“Good. Now, I’d like you to accompany me to a business party I have to attend tonight.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t expected that.
Detecting my disappointment, his grin widened. “Trust me, Elle, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of the day in bed with you but duty calls. I promise to make the wait up to you.”
I blushed, embarrassed that he had discovered my eagerness but his smoky laugh made me smile too.
“I have some work to do and I realize I interrupted your sunbathing. I’ll meet you in the lobby at eight.” It wasn’t really a question but he waited for me to nodded before he stood to leave.
He hesitated for a mom
ent before leaning down to brush a swift kiss to my cheek. “Until then.”
I sat there after he left, stunned by the turn my vacation had taken. Brenna had sent me to Mexico to relax, the only person who knew why I was so hastily leaving my beloved Paris, and here I was, more stimulated than I had ever been in my life. With a large sigh, I flopped back against the chaise lounge and closed my eyes. I knew next to nothing about the devastatingly handsome Frenchman but already I was hooked.
Chapter Five.
The home of Santiago Herrera was the kind of place I had only ever seen in movies about drug cartels. It was a low, sprawling building made of butter yellow stucco and roofed with the traditional red tiles but that was where the classic Spanish style ended. The interior was modern day opulence. The kitchen, which I had accidently wandered into after getting lost on the way back to the reception from the bathroom, was larger than most restaurants and the bathroom had boasted a talking toilet. We had been at the party for two hours and Candy had assured me I’d only seen one quarter of the massive home. I found it all a little bit off-putting, the modernity was something out of a science fiction book, and by the time I found Sinclair, I was a little flustered.
It was hard to believe the movie star handsome man sitting at the bar was waiting for me. Sinclair wore light grey trousers and a deep blue dress shirt with a cobalt blue tie that matched his eyes. He had discarded his jacket at the door even though most of the men at the party were dressed more formally in suit jackets and tails. I preferred his look and so too, it seemed, did the slinky brunette leaning against the bar so closely to him. He seemed unperturbed by her attentions but his expression was only politely interested and he turned his head briefly to check the hallway leading back from the washrooms. I smiled and as if he had sensed it, he froze, his glass suspended between his lips and the bar. I held my breath as he slowly turned his head¸ unerringly finding me across the large, crowded floor. I could feel his eyes scorch a path of fire across my body and when his gaze finally met mine, they were heated with want.
I had worried the whole afternoon about what I should wear to a Mexican soiree but the minute I had seen Sinclair’s reaction to the dress, I knew I had chosen well. The gossamer thin fabric draped itself elegantly across my shoulders and crossed over my breasts, exposing a deep slice of plump cleavage. The soft lavender color suited my sun kissed skin and auburn hair, which I had left simple, curling softly down my back.
Sinclair strode forward without noticing the sour expression on the face of the now lonely brunette at the bar and brushed a chaste kiss against my cheek. “You look lovely, Elle.”
“So do you,” I murmured after dragging in a deep lungful of his leathery scent.
His smile was small, his conservatism back in place after the more playful man I had seen by the pool that afternoon. “Thank you. I was worried you had run away when you didn’t come back straight away.”
“I got lost,” I explained with a small laugh. “I don’t have the best sense of directions and this is a big house.”
“Of course.” He allowed smoothly, his hand on the small of my back as he moved us out of the way of foot traffic and into a more private corner of the room. “I should have texted you the floor plans.”
I looked over at him sharply to see if he was teasing. “Would you have?”
His expression was practically inscrutable but I was beginning to know where to look for telling signs of emotion, in his sharply cut jaw and expressive brows. I was about to tease him when someone called his name from across the floor and started over to us.
My smile slipped slightly but Sinclair pressed his palm to the small of my spine and leaned in to whisper, “Poor girl, you were hoping for a more exciting evening, weren’t you?”
“This is delightful, Sinclair, really.” I gestured to the opulent surroundings and the glittering Mexican magnates littering the hall like discarded jewels. “I’ve never been to an event like this before.”
“I wish I could say the same.” His hand was warm on my hip as he tucked me into his side but his smile was gone, replaced with his normal implacable mask as the guest arrived at our side. “Santiago, it’s good to see you again.”
Santiago Herrera was younger than I had imagined, with thick black hair slicked back from his broad forehead to reveal large obsidian eyes. He wore a burgundy dinner jacket and shoes with tassels. Despite his obscene wealth, there was something amazingly approachable about his demeanor.
“And the same to you, my friend.” He took Sinclair’s hand and turned immediately to me. “Please, introduce me to your lovely date. It’s not often I have the pleasure of meeting a beautiful redhead.”
“It’s not often I have the pleasure of meeting a man brave enough to wear a velvet dinner jacket,” I teased, surprised by boldness. It must have had something to do with being next to Sinclair who made me feel tingly with female power.
He guffawed, a strange chortle of amusement that made me giggle. “My last wife complained about my fashion sense.” He flattened the lapels of his jacket carefully. “I divorced her over this jacket.”
I looked up at Sinclair to validate the outrageous claim but he was staring at me with a slight frown between his chestnut brows as if we were discussing complex physics.
“Well, I think you look dashing,” I asserted.
Santiago beamed. “Tell me you speak Spanish and you will be my next wife.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I scolded lightly and watched him laugh again.
This time Sinclair smiled slightly too and that small expression of humor warmed me more than a room full of laughter. I wondered what had made Sinclair so reserved but it was undoubtedly part of his appeal too. Every insight into his carefully concealed mind and spirit felt like a major victory.
“I’m sorry, Iago, not only is Elle French, but she’s unavailable to you,” Sinclair said smoothly, his hand still lightly resting on the swell of my hip.
I opened my mouth to correct him about my nationality before I remembered the rules. No personal details. And truth be told, being French and everything that represented to –refined, contained and witty – was preferable to me than the gritty, poverty-stricken image my Italian upbringing invoked.
“What a waste.” The Mexican magnate spoke in flawless English, only slightly spiced with accent. “You had the drop on me though, Sinclair. It’s hardly a fair playing field when you are French as well.”
“American,” he corrected with narrowed eyes, all amusement gone.
Santiago pursed his lips but nodded, obviously understanding the gravity of his tone. What was so wrong with being French?
“I saw Dylan Hernandez by the buffet. We should discuss business now rather than later, so that you can enjoy your party,” Sinclair said.
The feel of his hand smoothing down my back distracted me. With that simple touch, the desire that had lain tamely at the base of my belly all night flared to life.
“Of course.” Santiago squinted at us, his lips still pursed but finally he nodded. “We’ll go up to my study. Katarina can hold down the fort while I’m gone. You should meet her, Elle, her beauty is your only competition tonight.” His grin flashed again. “She is my youngest sister.”
“Good idea. Kat will no doubt be on the patio on a clear night like this. She is an astronomer. You’ll like her. But first,” Sinclair turned to me, his gaze strangely intimate, “I was telling Elle about your remarkable collection of Frida Kahlo’s work.”
“Kat will show her,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand as if such a collection was nothing to brag about.
Considering she was a long time idol of mine, I couldn’t believe that I had the opportunity to view her work outside of a museum. Sinclair noted my smile and matched it with a small one of his own.
“I thought you might enjoy that.”
I nodded, my tongue tied with anticipation.
“If you’ll excuse us for a minute, Iago, I will just show Elle t
he powder room and I’ll meet you in the office.”
I frowned slightly as I had just returned from the washroom but his fingers stroked the skin at the base of my neck tantalizingly and I forgot to protest.
“Of course.” Santiago nodded and leaned forward to grasp my hands. “I wish Sinclair always visited me with such a beautiful companion. He never mixes business and pleasure. Such an awful separation, don’t you think?”
“I’m not so sure, he hasn’t been divorced three times,” I joked.
He laughed and squeezed my hands. “Touché.” After brushing a kiss against my cheek, he stepped back and looked at Sinclair. “Five minutes?”
“Better make it ten.”
Santiago’s thick brows raised but he acquiesced with a shrug before turning away.
As soon as he did so, I turned fully to Sinclair with my own arched brow. “The powder room?”
Amusement and something darker sparked in his eyes. “Yes. You are bored of this party and I’m sorry for it. Let me try to ease some of the tedium. Come.”
With sure feet, he led me out of the main hall and through twisting, turning corridors. I had no idea how he could have known where he was going in such a maze.
“You made Iago laugh within thirty seconds of knowing him,” Sinclair said, almost to himself. “I haven’t seen him open up to a stranger like that in years.”
I shrugged. “He seemed very friendly.”
“Oh, he is. But he doesn’t enjoy life much anymore.” At my searching look, he explained, his hand warm in mine as he lead me through the house, “His brother was killed two years ago, gang violence in Mexico City. He moved himself and Kat here soon after.”
I felt sympathy pain pang in my stomach and shrugged off the brief thought of life without one of my siblings. Even Elena, whom I had never been particularly close to, was vital to me.
We had stopped in the middle of a narrow room fronted in glass paneling and we stood beside an open door in the gently rushing breeze. There was barely an inch separating our bodies but Sinclair carefully maintained the distance.
The Affair (The Evolution Of Sin #1) Page 5