My Sinful Desire (Sinful Men Book 2)

by Lauren Blakely

  I cringed inside, then I plastered on my best smile. “I can’t even begin to guess.”

  Soon he was escorting me to an office where a young blond man was bent over his laptop.

  “Taylor, my boy. I have someone I want you to meet,” Clyde said, and the young man looked up. He was handsome, sported a nice smile, and boasted straight white teeth that could only be courtesy of the best orthodontia money could buy. “This is Sophie, our city’s leading philanthropist, who is spearheading the plans for the community center fundraiser.”

  “That’s so great. I’m one hundred percent behind that.” He pushed back from the desk in his rolling chair, walked over to me, and extended a hand.

  He had a strong grip, and I cataloged that as a good thing. “Pleasure to meet you, Taylor. Clyde raves about his favorite grandson, and I promise I won’t tell the others he likes you best.”

  Taylor laughed. “Excellent. I won’t tell the other fundraisers that you’re his favorite, then, either,” he said with a we’ve got a secret wink.

  “You’ve got a deal,” I said with a cheery smile for the fresh-faced law school graduate. “How are you finding the transition from law school to the corporate world?”

  “My grandfather works me hard. The other day, for instance, he only let me take a one-hour lunch to play cards at the MGM instead of the two hours he gives the senior partners.”

  “I’m so cruel,” Clyde said with a hearty laugh.

  After another minute of casual chatter, I said goodbye, and Clyde saw me to the lobby.

  “That went quite well didn’t it?” he asked, a huge grin on his face.

  “He is lovely indeed,” I said. Also six years younger than me.

  “Perhaps the two of you could attend the concert together,” he said, then snapped his fingers. “Wait. I have a better idea. Why don’t you go out before? Have a nice dinner. On me.”

  I wanted to put my foot down, but I also didn’t want to offend this man who I needed in my court by turning down his grandson. Nor did I want to lie to him. I wanted to live a life free of lies and free of trickery. I also wanted to operate on my own terms, not conform to the expectations of the men I worked with, whether they were the geniuses in the tech world back then or the titans of industry with fat wallets now.

  “Oh, Clyde, you are such a darling,” I said, stalling for time.

  “What do you think about that?” he asked, undeterred.

  “Why are you so eager to set him up? He’s a handsome, smart, sweet man. Seems he could easily find a date on his own.”

  Clyde lowered his voice. “I want to leave him the firm. And I want to know he’s with a woman who’s not going to try to take all my money,” he said in a you get my drift voice.

  Oh, I got it. I definitely got it. Because I had money, I wouldn’t need his. Clyde assumed I was the type of woman who’d sign a prenup. Well, maybe I was that type of woman. But still . . . the notion of why I was his top choice made me feel greasy.

  “Also, you’re the most delightful young woman I know,” he added, as if suddenly that reason would hold water. “The two of you could be a wonderful match.”

  I had other ideas about what made a good match. Besides, who said I was looking for something serious? I was quite content with my life as it was, thank you very much. If I wanted anything right now, it was passion. It was sparks and fire.

  It was Ryan Sloan, and the way he commanded my pleasure.

  Oh God, just his name in my head sent heat flaring in my body.

  Which meant it was time to nip this thing with Clyde in the bud. I’d run a multimillion-dollar company for several years, and I hadn’t gotten to that position by letting the men I worked with try to set me up.

  “Clyde, you know I adore you. And I could humor you right now simply to stay in your good graces, but I want to be totally honest. Your grandson is lovely. However, I’ve started seeing someone, and it’s going quite well so far. So I’m not really on the market at the moment.”

  He frowned. “Is it serious?”

  “Clyde,” I said softly, “it’s not a matter of whether it’s serious. It’s a matter of choice. I’m choosing to see someone right now, and I’ll likely be bringing him to the benefit. I hope this won’t affect your support of the center, but it’s important to me to be honest with you.”

  Clyde took a deep breath and nodded, as if he was processing this news. I mentally crossed my fingers, praying I hadn’t messed up by being too frank. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t snatch away his funding.

  “I’ve been too presumptuous,” he said, contrition in his tone. “And I respect you for saying that. And of course I remain a committed supporter.” Then he fixed on a cheery smile. “And I look forward to meeting this man at the event.”

  Oh shoot. Now I had to deliver Ryan in the flesh to back up my thanks, but no thanks and to prove I was an honest woman.

  “You will definitely meet him then,” I said, my businesslike bravado hiding my worry that I’d been too bold to assume Ryan would be my arm candy.

  I was going to need to ask Ryan to be my date. The possibility thrilled me, but he seemed to be taking it day by day. Would he even want to plan that far ahead?

  As I drove to my next meeting, I ran through the best ways to invite Ryan to the event. What was happening between us was new and tender, and I didn’t want to ruin it by asking for too much. Would this type of date imply we were more than merely lovers? Was I ready to state that so boldly?

  I shut off the questions momentarily when I arrived at the community center, parking behind a brown Buick. I rushed inside for a quick visit with Elle, who ran the center, updating her on the status of the fundraising.

  “So glad it’s going well. We are lucky to have you behind this,” Elle said, gesturing broadly to the broken-down building and the basketball court with its cracked concrete surface, all badly in need of the repair and revamp we hoped would soon be possible.

  “It thrills me to help,” I said as the dark-haired and insanely gorgeous Elle walked me back to my car at the end of our meeting.

  “Thank you again for everything. I know we can do so much more for these kids when this comes together.”

  “We have great donors behind this. It’ll happen.”

  As I said goodbye, backing away from the Buick then heading in the direction of the Strip, my damn brain went haywire again trying to figure out what was happening with Ryan. I muttered a curse as I turned onto the highway, dropping my shades over my eyes to shield them from the sun. I gripped the wheel tighter, trying to focus solely on driving. But still my mind whirred and raced as I played out scenarios and cycled through relationship permutations, just as I had with computers.

  The questions rattled my brain and drove the tension in my body sky-high.

  By the time I returned to my building, I felt like a radio station tuned in badly—all warped, fuzzy, and off-kilter. I was frazzled by what I might possibly do next—push Ryan into something that might feel more serious, when he hardly seemed the type.

  But then I shoved all those feelings aside once the front desk attendant told me there was a delivery for me. He handed me a silvery gift bag with slim handles, and instantly I was sure it was from the man I had a third date with. Desperate to open it, I clutched it tightly as the elevator shot me up to my floor.

  The second I opened my door, I tore in and found a small white box, tied with a white bow, nestled inside the red tissue paper. I pulled off the bow and removed the lid.

  Wow. I lifted the satiny fabric. The panties were dark pink with sheer lace in front. But it was the back that knocked the breath out of me. The rear was comprised solely of crisscross satin pieces of fabric that fan out and would leave most of my bottom exposed. An open cage back, it was called, according to the tag.

  I called it a prelude to multiple orgasms.

  I owned many pairs of pretty panties, but these were by far the most alluring, taking sexy to new heights. Moments later, my phone
pinged with the notification that a message had arrived.

  Ryan: I hope you’ll forgive me that they aren’t pale pink.

  Sophie: I do forgive you. I forgive you so much I promise to be wearing these next time I see you.

  Ryan: Don’t tease me like that.

  Sophie: Good things come to those who wait . . .

  Ryan: How’s 7:00 tonight? I can’t wait longer than that.

  Sophie: You can take me for that drive you wanted in my car. I’ll see you then.

  Looked like that third date would be happening sooner than expected.

  18

  Sophie

  It didn’t matter where we were going tonight or what we were doing.

  I was wearing a dress. I was not toying with him today, because I wanted what he wanted.

  Access.

  I adjusted the slim orange shoulder straps as they curved into a tight white bodice that was practically fused to my breasts. Just enough cleavage to ensure his eyes would pop out of his head, then the skirt itself would pretty much blast all his brain cells away. Full and gathered, the white skirt with oranges printed on it swished as I walked. The waist cinched with a slim belt, and I wore matching orange pumps with a strap over the instep. The cotton sateen fabric of the dress wasn’t see-through, so I could wear the pink panties he’d sent, no problem.

  As if I’d wear anything else right now.

  This was a sex date, wasn’t it? Oh yes, it was, and I wanted it, needed it, and was damn eager to have it.

  Ryan was an enticing mix of enigmatic and open, of caveman and gentleman. The combinations I saw inside him intrigued me, body and heart. His quickness with words and the ease of his flirty banter ignited my mind. There was something else in him too that simply gripped me—the man had a magnetic intensity. It drew me to him, lured me under his spell.

  That was where I wanted to be tonight.

  I grabbed a small white handbag, dropped my wallet, lipstick, and phone into it, then realized I didn’t have a condom. I laughed when I couldn’t even remember how long it had been—not only since I’d needed one, but also since I’d bought one.

  It would be up to Ryan, and he sure seemed like the kind of man who came prepared.

  One more check of my reflection told me everything was neatly in place, including the soft curls I’d styled into my hair after I showered. I ran a shimmery red lip gloss wand over my lips, then tucked that into my purse too.

  I tapped my chin, cycling through my mental to-do list. I’d been to the office, I’d seen Clyde, I’d visited Elle, I’d confirmed some items for the concert, and then made a number of phone calls for other fundraisers I was working on. There was so much in motion, but right now my plate was clear. My list was emptied. Time to have fun.

  Then the sound of a lock in the door caught my attention.

  19

  John

  I’d say I walked in, but it sure as hell felt more like I’d been dragged. Weariness was my middle name.

  But the second I spotted my sister in the kitchen, my tired eyes lit up, I was sure. She had that effect on me. She was sunshine and oranges, and I loved my kid sister something fierce. Wished I had some of her optimism. Some of her the world can be better beliefs. “Hey, Soph,” I said.

  “Hey you. Long day?”

  I dropped my keys on the table by the door and headed to the kitchen. “Too long a day. Got the runaround from everyone,” I said with a sigh, trying to push back the memories of today and the goddamn merry-go-round of the Thomas Paige case.

  “The life of a detective,” she said, then held up a finger in the air. “But I have just the cure for a long day.”

  I arched an eyebrow as my sister walked over to a black marble table at the edge of the kitchen and held up a sturdy glass bottle.

  Ah, the antidote indeed.

  She removed the stopper and poured some amber liquid into a glass, then grabbed an ice cube from the freezer, dropped it in, and handed it to me. “There’s never been a long day in the history of the whole world that Macallan can’t make better.”

  “I see I’ve taught you all of life’s most important lessons.”

  She tapped my shoulder playfully. “Yes. Always keep a Maglite flashlight by the side of the bed, don’t trust anyone, and savor the good stuff.”

  “You’re covered.” I raised the glass and knocked back half of it. With a satisfied sigh, I set the drink on the counter. “That does make my day suddenly better.”

  She laughed. “I knew it would.” Then she took a beat, her brow knitting. “Are you still working on that case?”

  Was I ever. That case and others. But that case had a way of making my head spin and my brain hurt. “Yeah. Today was like a goddamn puzzle,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair, wishing I could put all the clues together, assemble the intel from years ago into something that made sense. “You know the math problems you can’t solve? If a train is traveling at a speed of—” Then I stopped and shook my head, bemused. “Look who I’m talking to. You never had problems solving math puzzles.”

  She laughed. “True. So if you ever run into any impossible math or code-breaking with your cases, just let me know.”

  I took another drink. “This had to do with addresses. Fucking addresses from years ago.”

  “Sounds more like cartography than math,” Sophie said.

  “Well, both are vexing my partner and me,” I said, then waved a hand as if to dismiss the day. At least for these few minutes here with my sister. Because I knew myself. I could let this case spill over into all aspects of my life. That was a good thing, in a way—show me a detective who’s not obsessive and I’ll show you a detective who’s not doing his fucking job.

  But right now, I needed a break.

  A break before I spent the rest of the night trying to figure out if there were others, where they were then and now, and how and why they were involved.

  And that break came courtesy of my fantastic sister. And her clothes. She killed me with her outfits. “What’s with the dress? Wait. You’re probably just going grocery shopping like that. Am I right?”

  She made a funny face, sticking out her tongue. “Haha. And yes, I would wear this grocery shopping. But if you must know, I have a hot date.”

  I covered my ears. “La la la. I don’t want to hear about hot dates.” I took my hands off my ears, arching a brow. “Are you done now?”

  “Why’d you ask, then, if I had a date if you didn’t want me to tell you how fabulous this new man is?”

  Scrubbing a hand across my chin, I groaned. Fine, she wanted to tell me. Least I could do was hear her out. Sophie loved to share, God bless her. “Like I said, long day. It fries my brain. Who’s the date with?”

  “As a matter of fact, it’s someone I met—”

  But her words were cut off when my phone bleated loudly from my back pocket. “Manny,” I said when I saw my partner’s name flash on the screen. “Got to take it.”

  She waggled her fingers. “Toodle-oo. Don’t wait up for little old me.” Then she whispered, “Hot date and all.”

  I rolled my eyes then pressed the phone to my ear, switching right back into work mode, eager to know what was cooking. “What’s the latest?”

  What he told me gave me a burst of hope. Because ever since Bianca Rosa came to me, I’d been trying to learn who else was involved. I’d always figured Dora Prince and Jerry Stefano hadn’t acted alone. And now it appeared, we were inching closer to two more.

  20

  Ryan

  I leaned against one of the stone columns of the portico, sunglasses on, tailored shirt tucked into my crisp pants, and a suit jacket tossed over my shoulder.

  Patiently waiting.

  The second I saw her, my breath fled from my lungs. She was impossibly beautiful.

  “You,” I began, and my voice sounded dry. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?” Sophie purred.

  I needed to know. I was already picturing her in what I’d sent. “
Are you wearing them?”

  With a sexy grin, she leaned closer, her lips mere millimeters from mine as she grabbed my hand and pressed her keys into my palm. “Take me somewhere and find out.”

  The car hummed. Adrenaline surged through me as I drove into the dusk, heading for the mountains southwest of the city. There was still unchartered land in that area. Clearing had just begun, which meant miles upon miles of roads were still bare.

  As I shifted on an uphill stretch, the engine roared. The feel of the luxury automobile she owned was absolutely extraordinary, blurring into some kind of gorgeous harmony between car and driver and road.

  Not to mention the incredible woman in the passenger seat.

  As I accelerated, my chest vibrated with a purpose—find someplace and fuck her.

  I stole glances at Sophie during the drive, wishing it were possible to stare at her and keep my eyes on the road at the same time.

  “Have I mentioned you look good enough to eat?”

  “It’s the oranges, isn’t it?” she asked, running her fingers along the pattern on her dress.

  “You had cherries on your dress when I met you. Now oranges. What will it be next time?”

  “Do you like peaches?”

  “I love peaches. I love peach ice cream. I especially love peach pie.”

  “Then maybe I’ll have peaches on me next time,” she said with a sly look in her eyes.

  I laughed, then tapped the steering wheel as I turned onto a two-lane road at the base of the mountains. “So, what’s the deal with you and this car?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is this like a James Bond thing you have going on?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “He doesn’t drive this model. Lately he’s been driving the DBS. This is a Vantage GT.”