What They Call Sin

by Philippa Grey-Gerou

  He scowled at her half-heartedly. “What are you, my mother?"

  "Only if I have to be.” She gripped his hand, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “I respect you not wanting to talk about whatever's bothering you, but you don't get to drink it into submission either, okay?"

  He sagged a little, but lifted her hand to his lips. “You're right, pet. I'm sorry."

  She picked her fork up again. “Besides, I've got some news that should cheer you up. Or maybe you've heard it already?"

  "Heard what?"

  "Gabriel's going to Chicago for the weekend."

  His face hardened subtly. He calmly wiped his mouth with his napkin and laid it on the table. “Yeah, I heard about that."

  "Oh. I thought that would make you happy.” She knew the confusion was evident in her voice. “We won't have to be apart for our last weekend together."

  "It does, pet. Really.” He smiled, but it was far weaker than his normal electric smirk. “It'll be nice to wake up next to you for a change."

  She could tell that he wanted to grab the wine bottle again, but he settled for the coffee carafe. “Michael..."

  "Eat up, love. Children are starving in Africa and all that."

  She could have pointed out that his own plate was far from clean, but instead she said, “What are you, my father?"

  There was a twinkle of his usual wickedness as he replied, “Only if you want me to be."

  She laughed, then focused on her meal, hoping that at least might please him. He sipped at his black coffee and watched her, his expression never the same each time she looked at him.

  Finally she finished, pushing her plate away. “There, all done.” She leaned forward. “Do I get dessert now?"

  He toyed with one long tendril of her hair. “Depends on what you want."

  "Mmm. Definitely something sweet."

  "Can't help you, then. Nothing here but bitter old crabapples."

  She shrugged. “Nothing the right amount of sugar won't cure.” Her lips met his richly, teasing his cool lips apart with the soft curve of her own to allow her tongue to explore the darkness within. After long minutes, his hand came up to pillow the mass of hair at the base of her neck. When he began holding her tighter, kissing her more eagerly, she pulled away, taking his hands and drawing him to his feet to lead him toward the bedroom. “Come with me."

  She moved into the bedroom to kick off her shoes, then turned with a welcoming smile on her face. She hadn't expected to see him frozen in the doorway, staring at her with wide, empty eyes. “What is it?"

  His voice was as hollow as his gaze. “I don't know what to do."

  "Well, since you taught me everything I know, that can't be true,” she said, her voice gently teasing. “Or else we're in real trouble."

  "I just don't know what to do anymore.” He looked so terribly lost. “Tell me what to do, Lindy. I don't know anymore."

  "Shh.” She moved to rest her hand on his cheek. “It's alright. I know. I know what to do.” She drew her hand tenderly down along his arm before delicately wrapping her fingers around his wrist, lifting it to set his palm on the bare skin at her collar. “Just touch me."

  "How?” he pleaded, staring at his hand like it was somehow not attached to him.

  "Like this.” She removed his already loose tie and unbuttoned the top several buttons before sliding her hands inside to run gentle fingertips along his throat and collarbone and shoulder. “Wherever the skin's bare."

  His fingers moved gently, mimicking hers, his eyes watching them as though he'd never seen them, never seen her before. She hummed encouragingly as he moved up to trace the fragile shells of her ears, and she bent her head to the side to direct the path of his touch. His fingers followed the route she offered, and she gasped as they coasted over the exposed swell of her breasts. “Please, Michael, kiss me,” she begged softly.

  She was surprised when his lips touched hers instead of the skin he was caressing, but she responded eagerly, letting him set the careful pace. Their mouths coasted over each other this way and that, tongues touching and retreating. His fingers started to knot in her hair, and she pulled away. “Don't stop touching me,” she said breathlessly before diving back into his lips. Her own hands were busy slowly unbuttoning the sky blue dress shirt he wore. She took one of his hands in hers and then the other, placing kisses in the palm of each as she unbuttoned the cuffs, allowing her tongue to slide down over the pulse point in his wrist and enjoying the hiss he made in response. She pushed the cotton off his shoulders and down his arms, allowing the shirt to fall to the floor. “Now mine,” she said against the hollow of his throat.

  She was glad she had dressed for intimacy, because she didn't think he could have managed complex buttons and hooks tonight. He tugged awkwardly, pulling the silk tank from the waistband of her jeans, then catching the hem to draw it up over her head. He stared at her unabashedly, the blouse still clutched in one hand. “Do you like?” she asked.

  "Yes,” was his simple answer.

  "Would you like to touch?"

  "Oh, yes!” His tone was reverent, worshipful, and it made her shiver.

  "I want you to. I want to feel your hands on my back and my stomach. And on my breasts. Especially on my breasts."

  He reached up hesitantly, fingers curved out from his palm, to gently cup one full breast. Her intake of breath must have encouraged him, for he took her more fully in hand, rubbing the heel of his palm against her tightening nipple. She groaned and let her head fall back. “Oh god, Michael, just like that.” Then she dragged his head back down to hers.

  She fingered her way down the velvet curves of muscle along his bare back, holding him close but staying out of his way. While his left hand explored every curve of her breast, his right coasted along her back, up and over the roundness of each shoulder and down, down to hesitate at the waistband of her pants. She could tell he wanted to continue lower. “Take them off,” she murmured against his mouth.

  His hand swiftly moved around to the front where he worked for long moments at the tight button, but it refused to give. He growled in frustration against her lips.

  "Shh, let me.” She stepped back and unfastened the pants, quickly pushing them down to the floor. The black lace thong she had worn as a temptation followed immediately after. He was in no condition to appreciate them. Almost as an afterthought, she reached out and released his trousers to fall to the floor as well. Then she climbed into the bed and moved to recline on the pillows, watching his face the entire time. Once she was comfortable, she held out a hand to him. “Come to bed, Michael."

  Without hesitating, he knelt on the mattress and crawled towards her in semblance of his usual sexual presence. He stopped inches away from her, his eyes locked on her mouth. “What do you want me to do, Lindy?"

  Her heart fluttered. “I want to feel your mouth on my whole body.” Despite her brazen words, she could barely draw the breath to speak them.

  "Everywhere?” There was no innuendo in his voice, although she thought she detected a hint of it in his eyes.

  "Everywhere."

  "Then everywhere it shall be.” And he surprised her by gripping her far shoulder and hip and rolling her towards him onto her stomach.

  She was about to raise her head to ask him what he was doing when she felt him gently move her hair over her shoulder and off her neck.

  His warm breath preceded the soft touch of his lips by half a second, and she sighed and sank into the mattress, reveling in his caresses. He supported himself on his arms, one on either side of her body, as he slowly, gently lipped and tongued his way down the column of her neck and over her shoulders. He kept his body off of hers, his hips resting on the mattress next to her, but she could feel his cock prodding undemandingly at her hip and knew that whatever else was going on in his head, he was enjoying this.

  He moved down and slowly began covering every inch of her shoulder blades, running his tongue lightly down along her spine before kissing gently up her
ribs, pausing at the beginning swell of her breasts where she was most sensitive, making her gasp and arch toward him. He waited until she relaxed, his mouth still resting on her skin, before he continued up her ribcage. She giggled as he explored the crease of her armpit with his tongue. He quickly skimmed across her shoulder to repeat his actions in reverse on the other side.

  He continued tenderly down along the curve of her waist, pausing to nibble playfully at the dimples at the base of her spine. Meticulously, he patterned over the plane of her lower back before taking the pillows of her behind in his hands and rubbing his face all over it. He licked and nipped each taut globe, making her whimper as he focused on the seam where leg and cheek met. Then he slowly moved down, over one tanned thigh and then the other, gentle love bits on the back of her knees before moving down along her strong calves and the tendons in her ankles and the arch of her foot, drawing each of her toes into his mouth in erotic turn. Then, for the first time in what seemed to Lindy to be hours, he spoke. “Roll over."

  She responded instantly, turning onto her back to look at him. He stood at the foot of the bed, eyes dark, cock erect, totally focused on the task she had set him. The lost look was gone. He bent down and started from where he had left off, stroking over the tops of her feet with his tongue, kissing and nibbling his way up her legs. He paid special attention to the insides of her thighs, working eagerly with lips and tongue and teeth until she was writhing and moaning beneath him. He moved up, shifting his head to center, when she stopped him, gripping the hair at his temples to keep him from moving any closer to her throbbing center. “No,” she instructed. “Not now, it's too much. Too intense. I just ... I want to enjoy the build up, okay?"

  He nodded his understanding, making her moan as the tip of his nose barely brushed her clit. But he moved away, spiraling around the roundness of her belly, defining each line of her ribs before tracing along the underside of her breasts. Working one and then the other, he sucked the swell of flesh between his lips all over its soft roundness. When she could feel that the skin was all red and rosy, his tongue reached out to catch the tight peak, flicking over it rapidly before latching on to suckle it the way he knew she liked. Her hands closed on his head as she strained toward him, crying out at the pleasure he gave her, her hips undulating with the energy gathering there. He pressed the heel of his hand down on her hipbone, holding her still against the mattress as he continued devouring her breasts. When he was satisfied, he targeted all the most sensitive spots along her neck, humming softly in her ear before finally, finally coming back to rest on her mouth.

  She kissed him back hungrily, clutching him to her as she rolled him beneath her, indulging in the feel of his warm velvet skin and hard muscle finally rubbing along every inch of her. She let her hands wander freely over his body, stroking and caressing all the places she could reach without releasing his beautiful mouth. But finally she had to breathe, and she pulled her head up to look into his midnight dark eyes.

  "What do you want, Lindy?” he asked her again, the sorrow and desperation gone, leaving only a rich, lustful rumble to his voice.

  "I want...” but he kissed her again before she could get the words out, a hungry, demanding kiss that encouraged her to surrender herself. After long moments she pulled away, continuing to kiss him lightly. “I want you to tell me what you want."

  "God.” He buried his face in her hair. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel like I'm a part of you, even if it's only for a little while.” And his mouth captured hers again.

  She shifted her weight above him, swinging one leg over his hips to slide her damp slit along his length. He moaned and clutched at her hips, drawing her up to center the swollen head of his cock at her opening and then slowly pushing her down onto him. “Christ! God, Lindy!"

  She took the initiative, slowly rising and falling over him, taking cues from him to set their pace. But the arousal he had built up in her could be held back no longer, and she was quickly riding him hard, driving him as deeply into her as she could, crying out his name with each thrust. He held her close to him as she moved, murmuring words of encouragement and pleasure with each stroke. Climax caught her unawares, and she bucked and trembled against him as he held and caressed her comfortingly.

  She lay on his chest, his hands stroking her hair as she came back down, still intimately aware of the solid shaft within her. With the last of her strength, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rolled, her legs tangling about his to keep him in place as they changed positions. “I want you to find pleasure in my body.” It was part command, part plea.

  "Oh God, love, I do. I always do,” he whispered fervently as he began moving inside of her again. “You are all that is right and beautiful in this world.” He sped up quickly, and she could feel his release building already. “You make me feel alive in ways I didn't even know were possible.” His thrusts became erratic, sending small shocks through her sated body.. “God, Lindy, how did I live ... ohgodLindy!” He roared as he exploded, his hips jerking with each eruption and she held him, stroking his back and hair and murmuring to him as he had done to her so many times before.

  She watched him watch her as he came down, lungs bellowing, skin glistening with sweat, his eyes bright with wonder. “You knew,” he said finally, awestruck. “When I didn't, you knew."

  "Yeah.” She was surprised by the revelation herself. “Yeah, I guess I did..."

  Chapter 29

  Lindy answered the door with a smile and a bowl of candy.

  Michael was leaning against the doorframe. “Trick or treat,” he purred.

  "Oh look, it's the big bad wolf. Great costume!” she laughed.

  He leaned in. “Do I get something sweet?"

  "Not in front of the neighbors.” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him inside.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Now about that treat..."

  "Candy's for the kids,” she said coyly.

  "They can have it.” He took the bowl from her, set it outside on the porch and closed the door. “I've got a treat we'll both enjoy."

  "Sounds more like a trick to me."

  "Yeah...” His smirking mouth captured hers as he slowly backed her against the paneled wall, never touching her as he leaned on his hands on either side of her head. He could feel the happy curve of her lips even as she kissed him back eagerly, soft and mobile and sweet with the chocolate she'd been stealing out of the trick or treat bowl.

  Finally she pulled away with a breathless gasp. “You seem to be feeling better today."

  "Should be. Had the best care a man could ask for.” He dragged his finger lightly along the line of her jaw. “Let me show you how much better."

  "I have to finish getting ready."

  "So we'll be late.” He moved to catch her lips again, but she ducked under his arm and slipped away from him with a laugh.

  "I'll just be a minute.” She disappeared around the corner and he heard her bare feet pad up the stairs.

  He took in the décor of the entry and living room briefly as he took off his coat to follow her upstairs. Decorator chic. Looks like Gabriel didn't trust the artist to be able to handle interior design. Rogue couldn't see anything that looked like Lindy in the space.

  He climbed the stairs, looking down the hall to see where she might have gone. He heard tuneless humming coming from the third door on the left and followed it.

  The door opened onto a large master bedroom. The walls were all cream and taupe, the only punch of color being the burgundy comforter on the bed. There was a small black duffel in the middle of the bed, and Lindy came out of the bathroom a moment later to drop a couple of toiletries into it. “Hey! You didn't have to come up."

  "I don't mind. Prefer the company up here."

  She grinned and disappeared back into the bathroom. “I promise, I won't be long."

  "Take your time, pet. ‘m in no hurry."

  He poked around the room, peeking in drawers and on top of dressers
and shelves. There was barely any indication of habitation. All the dresser tops and one of the bedside tables were clear of any personal items. The other table had a couple of books, a small collection of half burned candles and one photo in a wooden inlaid frame. He picked it up to see a handsome middle aged woman, dark blonde hair attractively arranged, a bright smile on her face. The family resemblance between her and his lover was striking. He held the picture up when she came back out of the bathroom, hair brushed out in soft flowing waves, mouth freshly painted a cheerful pink. “Your mom?"

  She smiled, crossing over to take the frame from him. “That was taken a couple of years ago. She'd been really sick for a long time. That was when she was finally better. We spent a week in San Francisco, getting her new clothes and a makeover."

  "She's a beautiful woman,” he said softly.

  "Yeah.” Her fingers drifted lightly over the photo.

  "Like mother, like daughter."

  She rolled her eyes and put the photo back. “Flatterer. Is that the dress code for the evening?” She indicated his t-shirt and button-down shirt over black slacks.

  "Wear what's comfortable, pet.” His eyes fastened on her as she skinned off her t-shirt to reveal the cobalt satin bra underneath. “Guarantee you'll be better dressed than Mercedes, whatever you wear."

  Rogue watched as she unfastened her slacks and casually shimmied out of them, tossing them on the bed before padding into her closet in nothing but her bra and lace panties, the sweet curve of her fanny barely peeking out below the scalloped edge as she walked.

  His heart was touched by how comfortable she was with the casual intimacy of changing in front of him. No shyness, no uncertainty, just as though it were the most natural thing in the world.