What They Call Sin

by Philippa Grey-Gerou

  He couldn't help but snigger. Gave whole new meaning to relieving yourself.

  Rogue scooped up the whiskey and leaned against the arm of the couch. He could use a bit of relief himself. She was like a drug to him. He loved the low buzz he got just being in her presence. He felt sharper, more alive around her.

  He allowed himself a brief moment to fantasize about what life would be like with her. They'd make love when they woke up every morning, then he would go to work while she worked on her art. They'd have quiet dinners in front of the fire, then curl up to read or watch movies together, and then indulge in each others’ bodies again before they went to sleep in each other's arms. He couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of his life.

  He glanced over and noticed Lindy standing at the bar talking to Eve. He smiled when Eve noticed him and grinned wickedly, causing Lindy to look in his direction and blush. And yet again she amazed him. Despite being jealous of the woman, Lindy was making an effort to talk to Eve. He was glad. Eve could be aggressive and abrasive, but she was a good girl, and he thought Lindy could learn a lot about assertiveness and resilience from her. Eve would benefit as well, exposed to Lindy's grace and joyfulness.

  He turned to set his tumbler down, and when he looked back, they were gone.

  He looked around for them, but saw only the waitress coming to check if he wanted another. He handed her his glass with a nod and went back to scanning the room. A Latiny tune with a salsa beat started, announcing the next dancer, but he paid no attention. Lindy had been gone for a while, and he wanted her back.

  A bright flash of red from the stage caught his eye, and he glanced instinctively. And froze, eyes locked on the dancer.

  Lindy was up there.

  He had missed her entrance, but now she stood in the middle of the stage, hands above her head, hips drawing figure eights in time to the Spanish rhythm, small pops at the end flicking up the hem of the cocktail dress's short, full skirt. She had let her hair down to fall in a soft auburn cascade over one shoulder and she had exchanged her comfortable dancing shoes for black patent leather fuck me pumps that gave just a touch of the fetish to her otherwise demure outfit.

  She didn't look his way at all.

  Slowly she rotated, presenting all angles to the crowd, her hips never stopping their sensual circling. Eyes closed and head tilted back, she ran one hand down her breast and over her stomach to caress down her leg, then both hands coasted up her thighs, pushing the skirt up to reveal the lace tops of her stockings, the white silk tabs of the garters holding them up and the white triangle of silk covering her sex. Her fingers caught at the tabs and released them with an almost audible snap.

  He was torn between wanting to grab her off the stage and wanting to see how far she would go. He was hard enough to go up and take her right there, give everyone a right good show. Leaning forward, he adjusted himself discreetly, curious to see what she would do next.

  Lindy didn't disappoint him.

  She turned again, presenting her backside to his side of the room. Her right hand lifted the left side of her skirt, revealing one tanned cheek to the audience.

  Fuck, she was wearing a thong.

  For the first time, she looked back over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were heavy with seduction, and with a wicked grin she caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth in a gesture he knew she had picked up from him.

  He growled softly.

  Her right hand popped the second garter, then held the back of the skirt up as her other hand went under the front of the skirt to catch the stocking with her thumb and push it down her leg, bending over until her head almost touched her knee and the right side of the audience had a beautiful view of the normally hidden part of her underwear. She slipped her foot out of the shoe and finished removing the stocking, sliding her foot back in as she slowly came back upright, letting the hose unfurl between her fingers before allowing it to fall to the floor. Still in time to the music, she slowly pivoted to repeat the show with the other leg for the left side of the very appreciative audience.

  There had been no announcement made, but somehow the crowd seemed to know that this dancer was different. Everyone was watching her, some staring openly, some moving in time to the catchy beat. A hum went up with the release of the first stocking, and by the time the second hit the floor, there was a soft cheer. They were all watching his girl, and he couldn't blame them.

  But a part of him hated each and every one of them.

  She presented her back to them, her pelvis still popping and shifting with the music. She looked over her left shoulder and then her right as though evaluating the audience. Her eyes met his briefly and he could see how empowered this was making her feel. He cupped himself and her little tongue came out again, making him groan.

  She twisted an arm up behind her back and caught the zipper, slowly dragging it down and shrugging to open it, revealing the bare skin of her shoulders and an expanse of white brocade across her lower back.

  She hadn't...

  But as she dropped the glittery dress to the floor amid whistles and applause, he realized that she had worn the corset that had driven him to distraction that day in the lingerie shop. She stretched her arms out, hands twisting and flowing, as she turned back around to reveal her bared breasts to the room.

  She just danced that way for long moments, giving herself over to the music and allowing everyone to enjoy the view. Then her hands dropped to her waist and one by one she released the hooks holding the corset closed over her waist. With one deep breath the garment fell away, leaving her in nothing but the tiny white silk panties and shiny black shoes, her body undulating as though she were making love to an invisible partner.

  She was incredible.

  The crowd thought so, too, shouting and applauding as the music came to an end. She hesitated as though coming out of a trance, then sketched a quick bow and disappeared back behind the curtain.

  He finished off the rest of his whiskey in one swallow and rose, intent on the door backstage.

  The bouncer at the bar near the doorway rose to intercept him, but stopped as though waved off by some unseen signal. Rogue was grateful. He didn't really want to punch out any of Eve's staff.

  He found Lindy in the second dressing room. She was still in nothing but the shoes and thong, a short silk robe thrown around her shoulders that someone backstage must have given her. It covered none of her attributes. Her skin was flushed and her chest heaved from exertion and something more. Her eyes were wide and luminous as she spun to face him when he closed the door behind him.

  He was on her in two steps, grabbing her shoulders to shove her up against the wall, his mouth devouring hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck fiercely as she thrust her tongue against his, her hand slipping between them to quickly release his throbbing cock from his pants while he slipped a finger in to slide the narrow strap of her thong aside. She twisted one leg around his waist and rose up as he gripped her hips and in concert they maneuvered themselves together.

  "Oh, Christ,” he groaned, her moist heat tight and comforting around his shaft. Her echoing moan spurred him to start moving against her, his mouth catching hers again as he slowly thrust into her.

  "Michael ... oh yes..."

  "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't let the customers come back here and fraternize with the girls. This just isn't that kind of establishment."

  Lindy yelped and tried to pull away, but Rogue thrust deep into her again, pinning her to the wall with pelvis and shoulder while blocking her from view with his other shoulder. He snapped his head around to glare at Eve. “Sod off, girl."

  She just chuckled. “Thought Lindy might like to be able to get dressed.” She stepped in and dropped the handful of clothes onto the small stool at the vanity. “Guess I was wrong."

  "Eve..."

  "Your girl's got some moves there, Rogue. You ever need a job, Lin, you come see me. We could be a hell of a team."

  "Look, you stupid bint,”
Rogue growled in frustration, “either get the hell out or join in. I'm done bein’ polite."

  Lindy squealed, her face buried in his shoulder in embarrassment.

  Eve chuckled. “Don't think your girl's into threesomes, sport. Stop by the bar on your way out, sweetheart. Got an envelope with your name on it with over a hundred bucks in tips for you. Have fun, children!” And she closed the door behind her.

  Rogue gathered Lindy tight in his arms and staggered the few steps it took to thrust her back against the door, preventing any other intrusion. She whimpered again as he pushed deep into her. He could feel her tight around him, her arousal swelling her soft flesh in preparation for him. She was soft and wet and snug and exactly where he wanted to be. Both her legs tangled tightly around his waist as they rode each other fiercely. Words were impossible, both of them too far gone from an evening of teasing and jealousy and sensuality. Instead they resorted to primal, guttural sounds and grasping, clutching hands to communicate. Their mouths fought voluptuously with each other, tongues caressing and exploring, swallowing cries of pleasure that could have emanated from either of them. Within moments she was cresting around him, her soft mewling cries and trembling body satisfying the primitive male in him as he found his own release in her.

  They clung to each other in the aftermath. “You were beautiful up there,” he whispered softly.

  "Really?"

  "Yeah.” He kissed her lingeringly. “If you ever do it again, I'm gonna lock you in a room for the rest of your natural born life. Got it?"

  She laughed. “Got it."

  Rogue pocketed the shoes on the way out.

  Chapter 34

  In the cab on the way home, Rogue slid the window to the front seat closed and made love to Lindy again there in the back, ignoring the driver's occasional glances.

  They were well on their way to doing it again in the hotel elevator when an elderly woman with two pugs got on at the second floor lobby. He settled for enjoying watching his lover try to make casual conversation while he fondled her ass beneath the back of her skirt.

  They fell through the door of his room and onto the rug, all hands and mouths and flying clothes.

  It took them an hour to make it to the couch. It took another two to get to the bed.

  It was nearly four a.m. before they finally fell asleep, blissed out and replete, wrapped in each other's arms.

  He woke to the feel of her warm mouth moving slowly across his chest, the soft feather of her hair tickling his shoulders. He reached up to tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her up to his mouth, but she looked up and mouthed a silent “Shh” before bending back to her work. So he gave himself up to her ministrations, gently stroking the tangled silk of her head as she slowly stoked the passion within him.

  As she moved down over his ribs and onto his belly, he felt the heavy curve of her breast brushing against the outside of his hip and thigh. He dropped one hand to lightly cup its weight in his palm. “Feels so good."

  He felt her smile against his pelvis as she moved down to brush her lips along his thigh. She mirrored her actions on his other leg, then eased herself between his knees to lean forward to breathe the faintest caress along his erection. A moment later her lips followed the same path, barely touching as they skimmed from root to tip. “Lindy, please!” he begged shamelessly, his voice hoarse with his need.

  "I will,” she promised, her own voice sultry and intense. She dropped a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock before sliding the tip of her tongue down the shaft and so slowly back up, repeating the pattern with the wide flat of her tongue. He groaned when she wrapped around the head in languid strokes. She finally slipped him into her wet, welcoming mouth, and it was all he could do not to thrust up into her. In short, even passes she drew his full length into her, easing the motion into long, pulling strokes that drove him mad. He could tell she wasn't trying to get him off, just thoroughly arouse him, and so he resisted holding her head and forcing his way deeper down her throat. But he did rest a hand on her hair, rewarding her with soft moans of pleasure at each caress.

  Finally she released him, now hard and wet and ready, and straddled his waist, guiding him to her own drenched sex, whimpering desperately as he filled her.

  He pulled her close and rolled them over, seating himself more comfortably in the bowl of her hips as she wrapped her legs around him. “You've done your part,” he purred in her ear. “My turn."

  She nodded and arched up against him as he pushed deep inside her, slowly drawing out to push back in. He set a slow, luxurious pace, using the time to return all the kisses she had worshiped on him.

  It could have been minutes or hours when he felt her start to hitch under him. “Are you ready, love?"

  She nodded violently, all words lost, her eyes wide and unseeing.

  He gathered up her hips and changed the angle of attack, driving along the top of her channel in short, hard strokes. She sobbed her pleasure as he moved faster, harder.

  "Want to ... God! ... love the way you make me feel,” she gasped, arching to meet each thrust.

  "Come for me, Lindy.” He buried his face in her hair, his mouth next to her ear. “Make us both feel it."

  His words made her tremble, and with one last drive she erupted, her paroxysms pulsating into his cock and driving him to his own explosive release.

  Her arms wrapped around him, drawing him down to the bed next to her and curled up around him, her breath easing from exertion into sleep.

  He kissed the top of her head and followed her.

  * * * *

  When he woke again, it was to the sound of water shutting off in the bathroom. He reached out, but found he was alone in the bed. Damn, he'd missed shower time.

  The hair dryer sounded from the other room, and he dragged himself up to look at the clock. Almost one thirty. They had slept and sexed the morning away. He dropped back onto the pillows with a contented smile.

  He dozed lightly listening to the sound of her doing her hair, a comforting domestic sound. Finally the drier shut off and a few moments later she stepped out, her hair a soft cloud around her head, her body wrapped in an oversized hotel towel. He propped himself up on one elbow to watch her.

  She grinned upon seeing him awake and began snaking her hips around, dancing to music in her head, possibly the same music she had danced to last night. Her hands came up to grasp the top of the towel, and she opened one side of it, then pulled it closed while opening the other side. She teased him, her hands moving so quickly he barely caught sight of skin before she was covered again. He chuckled, and she smiled happily before she got too close and he grabbed her, pulling her into bed with him as she squealed in laughter.

  He pinned her to the mattress. “You're beautiful when you're playful."

  She scoffed. “You'd probably say that even if I was old and wrinkly and smelled funny."

  "That's because I love you."

  Everything froze.

  He cursed himself as she stared at him with shocked, horrified eyes. So much for caution.

  "Lindy..."

  She pushed him off her and scrambled from the bed to begin snatching up clothes and dressing abruptly.

  "Lindy, we need to talk about this..."

  "No!” She stopped him, one hand raised to silence him, the other holding the waistband of the slacks she was pulling on. “No talking! I can't...” She looked away again, pulling up the pants and buttoning them forcefully. “I can't even think about it right now."

  "There's nothing to think about."

  "Just stop!” She pulled a sweater over her head with a jerk. “My husband,” she spat the word at him, “is going to be home in a few hours, and I have to get back to meet him."

  He rose up from the bed and grabbed her arms, holding her tight despite her struggles. “Lindy, just listen. I didn't mean to tell you this way, but I'm not sorry you know."

  "Please don't.” The words were weak, and she didn't meet his eyes.

  "I love yo
u,” he continued. “And I just want you to be happy. So if that means letting you go back to your husband, then I will, gladly. But if you aren't, then I want you to know that there is another option. You don't have to be miserable.” He released her, taking a step back. “I don't expect anything from you, Lindy. I knew the score when we started this, and I haven't forgotten. I don't want anything from you except one more week of your time. Can you do that?"

  She dropped her gaze. “I don't know. I'm sorry.” She snatched up her overnight bag and moved toward the door.

  "Will I at least see you tomorrow?"

  She paused, and he could tell she was torn even without seeing her face. Finally she turned and walked back to him, kissing him apologetically. “I'll meet you for lunch. We can ... talk then."

  And she was gone.

  He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his head buried in his hands.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 35

  He loved her.

  The words had become a mantra for Lindy. Over and over and over and over the words ran through her head even now, almost twenty-four hours later.

  Gabriel had gotten home just after four the day before, looking smugly satisfied and crowing about the success of his trip. He didn't seem to notice her distraction, so she thought she must have nodded and smiled and congratulated him in all the right places, although she couldn't remember a word either of them said. They went out to dinner, then home so he could catch up on paperwork and phone mail before work the next day. He didn't try to touch her, for which she was grateful.

  It was just so confusing. How could this happen? She wanted to deny it, but she knew she couldn't. Now that her eyes had been opened, she couldn't help but see it. All the attention, the encouragement. The playful affection. The almost frightening jealousy. Why hadn't she seen it before?

  Because she hadn't let herself look.

  She had kept things surface, kept it safe. She never had been good at introspection, and once she had rationalized their relationship for herself, she hadn't allowed herself to think about it again.