His Sweetest Sin

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His Sweetest Sin Page 5

by Fiona Murphy


  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it all. And a bed is boring, sugar. I’ll take you up against a wall, bent over your desk, in so many places you’ll be ready for me to take you when I want you, wherever I want you, without you ever missing a bed.”

  I’m drowning in his words, the images flashing through my mind, my whole body tight, aching, melting at what he promises. Then Mike is at the table, yanking me out of the storm so fast, it’s almost painful. “Mr. Baldwin, sir. Hello, Amelia. Are you ready to order, sir?”

  Chris smiles as he looks to me. “Since you know this place so well, what’s good here?”

  Fighting for composure, the words are tight and stilted. “Everything, it depends on what you want.

  “Heavy on protein, easy on the carbs, delivers on flavor.”

  “Then the chicken marsala, they use the most amazing wine that takes it to the next level. It comes with your choice of pasta or vegetable, they have asparagus, broccoli, and carrots in a honey glaze. They also have sausage and peppers.”

  Chris nods to Mike. “I’ll have the chicken marsala, with the broccoli steamed.”

  “Yes, sir. Amelia, what will it be today? In the mood for some calamari?”

  “Not today, thank you. I’d like the sausage and peppers calzone.”

  “Okay, wrap up half before I bring it out?”

  “Yes, please, thank you. I’m sorry you had to stay in Chicago for the holidays. How was your Christmas? Did you get to see Miranda?”

  He blushes. “No, she went home to see her family and isn’t back yet. My holiday wasn’t bad. Me and a bunch of guys got together and hung out. We did Chinese and we got into the show you recommended. Thanks for making me look cool.”

  Mike finishes what he’s writing before taking the menu from Chris. “I will have those right out for you both.”

  Chris runs his fingers over the back of my hand, fracturing my breath. “I don’t like seeing you smile at other men while you tease them. Even if you don’t mean anything by it.”

  Excuse me? “Tough.” I spit the word out. “I didn’t ask for your interest. If you have a problem with me chatting with someone even though you know I don’t mean anything by it, then fuck you.”

  His breath is a slow release, then he smiles. I’m hit in the chest by the heat in his eyes. “Amelia.” It’s that slow drawl again, wrapping around every letter. “I love the way your eyes go from hazel to a glittering green with anger. They do that when you’re aroused, too. All I can think of is what color they’ll be when I’m inside you. And it’s exactly why I want you so badly. You appear sweet and soft, only you hide a core of steel. It makes me wonder what else you’re hiding under your sweet, good girl façade.”

  Exasperation with him, with what he’s doing to me has me rolling my eyes. “You want me because I didn’t fall at your feet the moment you said you wanted me. I’m a glitch in your Matrix, so you’re fascinated by it. Once I fold you’ll find something else shiny and new to play with.”

  Tilting his head, he laughs. “Damn, you have a mouth on you. A glitch in my Matrix? I like that, I’m going to steal it. Yeah, you’re right, a huge part of your appeal is that a woman hasn’t made me wait longer than a few days in so long I can’t remember. I’m also not looking for anything more than fun for maybe a few weeks. But while I’m in it, I don’t fuck around with anyone else.” He pulls out a piece of paper from his back pocket. I open it and damn it, I’m blushing again. It’s the results from a panel of STI tests taken this morning, all negative. “I haven’t been with someone since before Christmas.” He laughs when my eyebrows go up in surprise. “Why is it hard to believe?”

  “Because you said sex is like food, as important an appetite that should be fed with as much variety. I’m having a hard time believing you really went hungry for long.”

  “It’s only been about two weeks. I was also twenty-five when I said that. The last few years I’ve been more into a nice sit-down meal, with a view toward quality over fast-food quantity.”

  Right. “Pregnancy scare or STI scare?”

  He laughs as he leans back. “Pregnancy scare. I’ve had a few rubbers break over the years, but this one was a total setup. The weeks waiting to see if she was pregnant were not good ones. I would have liked to think I was selective before then; I was wrong. Ever since, it’s only my condom every time. I also make sure she has more to lose than gain by getting pregnant.”

  “So you think I have more to lose than gain by getting pregnant?”

  “Hell, sugar, I don’t care if you have every intention of me knocking you up, if that’s what you want then I’m down. I think we’d make adorable baby girls.”

  We both freeze as he says it, then he smiles as if the idea truly appeals to him. My stomach flips a dozen times before it stops. “I want boys, with dimples like yours. Girls are a pain in the ass.”

  “Since they’ll be yours, I wouldn’t expect anything less than them taking after their mama. I figure by the time they get here I’ll be used to putting up with you and able to take them on. They can have my dimples as long as they have your smile and pretty brown hair.”

  Asshole. “You are insane. Have you been checked out by a qualified mental professional?”

  “What? Because I was honest? So this issue you have with honesty is giving as well as receiving...interesting. It looks like I’ll need the next few weeks to figure out your pretty little ass before Ethan gets here.” He shrugs. “Something to take my mind off not getting any when what I want is right in front of me.”

  My tart reply disappears. “You aren’t going to be with anyone else to, you know, ease your hunger pains?”

  His half smile flashes a dimple. “I’m well-aware you’d use it as a reason to cut and run no matter how much you want me. I’ll deal. It’s been a while since I went so long not getting it when I want it, but it will also give me time to make a list of all the things I want to do to you when I finally get my hands on you.”

  “You’re going to have a long wish list and an even longer dry spell. How many times do I have to say you and I aren’t going to happen?” No matter how much I might want it. The promise in his eyes dries my throat.

  Mike returns and sets our plates down, asking if we need anything else before he leaves us alone with a smile at my blush. I’m relieved at Chris’s promise he won’t be with someone else until after me. Even though I don’t know him as well as I should, I believe him. Everything I’ve read about him praised him for being honest and forthright. There was also a ton of admiration for his monk-like status during the season despite his manwhore ways during his downtime.

  “Maybe when you say it with more feeling, I’ll actually believe you.” A dark eyebrow goes up, daring me to make him believe.

  Jerk. “Do you never meet women you want to be with during the season, then need to wait until the season is over?”

  “I’ll meet women during the season except I’m usually so focused, they don’t register on my radar. If they do manage to catch my attention I usually forget about them pretty quickly.” Chris cuts into his chicken. His sigh of pleasure glides down my spine. “This is amazing.”

  “Told you, it’s the wine. You should try it with this amazing Pinot Noir they have here.”

  “I don’t drink, except champagne for celebrations because it would be rude not to.” He shrugs as he sips his water.

  “You don’t drink? What do you do in the clubs?”

  He shrugs again. “Drink club soda, chill with the guys, talk to the women, get to know them while I decide what I want. I also don’t go out to the clubs as often as people think I do. Considering I only go out during the off-season once or twice a month for three months, I’m not nearly as wild as the press wants to push. I haven’t been to the clubs on a weekly basis for the last two, almost three years now.

  “When I was in New York they would reuse pictures, implying I was at the club when I wasn’t. I threatened to sue, but it didn’t stop them. Management had to step
in to get them to stop. Sure, when I was younger it was maybe once a week, sometimes even twice, but it was never as often as the press made it seem.

  “I’m not going to sit here and say I didn’t earn my reputation for hooking up with strippers and going out to have fun. I’ve done it all and I did it with pleasure. However, I was never a club rat, hooking up with random women without even knowing their names like the gossip columns claimed.”

  Doing the math, it’s not nearly as often as even the younger lawyers and paralegals go out. “I can’t imagine being under the kind of scrutiny where people are putting things about your private life out there to make a buck off you.”

  “It isn’t easy, but you get used to it after a while. You’re more selective about the places you go as well as the people you let into your life.” He nods as he focuses on his food. For a while we’re both quiet as we eat. It’s a comfortable quiet though, surprising me a little, as though we’ve done this before.

  “So, what about you? Any vices I should know about, wine at night, gambling addiction?”

  I shrug. “Not really, I don’t do wine except when I hang out with Holly. It’s mainly just coffee, reading, and it used to be shopping but not really for the last few years.” Ever since I was sized out of the best designers, shopping became a chore instead of fun. Wow, saying it out loud, it’s glaring how boring I am.

  “Damn, Mary wasn’t exaggerating, you are in need of a shake-up, someone to help you remember what having fun is like.”

  Even though I know Mary’s thoughts on my boring life, she urged me to make my New Year’s resolution to get a life, it still stings. “Just because I don’t spend my evening in clubs and fuck random people doesn’t mean I don’t have a fulfilling life. I’m content. I’m happy with my life.”

  “I would make that five, except you actually believe what you said. Happy? No, Amelia, you are bored out of your mind. Deep down you’re dying to run screaming just to hear your voice, to make sure you didn’t lose it somewhere along the way. Tell me, Amelia, has any man ever made you scream as you came?” I freeze, eyes wide at the question. He shakes his head. “Well that answers my question. I’ll make you scream as you come. I’ll make your whole body shake. I’ll keep you screaming until there’s no air in your lungs. Then I’ll do it all over again.”

  My whole body is tense, tight, aching for the promise in his words, in his eyes. Then my phone goes off, tearing me out of the haze of desire. Relief fills me, it’s a text from Mary about a client demanding to see me, upset because Ethan was out of town. “I have to get back to work. There’s a client waiting.”

  He holds out his hand for my phone, and I roll my eyes as I hand it to him. The idea of arguing doesn’t even cross my mind. Reading the text, he nods. “Work it is. Are you done?” I nod, reaching for my bag to pull out my wallet. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Abashed, I put my wallet back. Mike comes over. “Sorry, sir, your check.”

  Chris nods, looks it over, pulls out a wad of cash and peels off a hundred-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

  Mike smiles. “Thank you, sir. I hope you both have a good day. See you soon, Amelia. Tell Ethan that I said hi.”

  As we walk out of the restaurant his phone rings. “I have to take this.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, if you could come in maybe ten minutes early we’ll discuss strategy.”

  He nods as he answers the phone. “One moment,” he says to the caller, then opens the door to a cab that stopped at his hail. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  6

  Chris

  “I’m sorry, Catherine. How was the visit from the physical therapist this morning?”

  “I did bother you. I’m sorry. I’ll let you go.”

  “No, you didn’t. I was saying goodbye as you called. No bother at all. Tell me how your visit went. Did you behave yourself?”

  She laughs. Damn, it’s good to hear her laugh. Even since her stroke two months ago I haven’t heard it nearly often enough. “I’ll tell you how my visit went if you’ll tell me about the young woman you were saying goodbye to.”

  Shit. I make a play for time. “Why do you think it’s a woman?”

  I can hear her smile through the phone. “Naughty boy.” Damn, I miss her. “I know you well, Christopher. Your tone of voice for one; there was also a very clear promise in your words. Have you decided to put this old woman’s poor aching heart to rest by taking up with a woman deserving of you?”

  I laugh, only Catherine thinks of me being the deserving one. “Old? Not even close.” She’s only sixty-four. “Hmm...something tells me you don’t want to tell me about your therapy for a reason. Are you going to make me call the therapist? I love you, Catherine, you know that. However, I’m not ready to discuss the woman. Yet.”

  She sighs. “All right, I won’t press you, sweetheart. Today went well, if a little exhausting. I’m making progress. I stood all by myself, even managed a few steps. Although toward the end I did get frustrated. I might have lost my temper with the therapist and I might have told him to never come back.”

  My chuckle draws out her own embarrassed one. “Who’s being naughty now? I’ll call him later to have a talk with him. Do you like him? Or is this the time to find someone else?”

  “I rather thought I didn’t have a choice in the matter?” She humphs.

  It’s my turn to sigh. “You know very well it’s your choice. I do believe Robert is the best therapist for you, much better than Connie ever was. Connie indulged you far too often. Robert is only hard on you because he knows you can do more. He would never push you beyond your limits.”

  “Oh, all right. If Robert is willing, then I would prefer him. The devil I know and all that.”

  I laugh as I give the cabbie a twenty outside my place. “I’ll make sure Robert knows he’s better than the unknown devil physical therapists.”

  “Don’t you dare, young man.”

  Unlocking my door, I take off my coat. “Have you given any more thought to what we talked about last time? I don’t like you so far away.”

  “I’m still thinking about it. I believe we discussed allowing me to make up my mind after the season was over. It hasn’t even begun.”

  “I know. I just don’t see what there is to think about. Melissa is in England. She’s not coming back. It’s been years since she bothered to visit you.” My jaw clenches remembering how disappointed Catherine was when Melissa didn’t even come to visit after the stroke. “I want to know you’re safe, it’s harder with you on the other side of the country.”

  “Sometimes you’re so like your father, it shocks me. So bossy and demanding, and out to take care of everyone. Missy tries, she has now called me weekly since my stroke. Your sister has her reasons. I understand them, why can’t you even try?”

  “Never mind Melissa, please tell me you are seriously thinking about moving to Chicago. You’ll love my house, but there are other homes in this area as well I know you’d love.”

  “Of course, I’m thinking about it. It’s just my whole life has been here in Dallas. So many years to give up.”

  I sigh as I plop down in my oversized chair in my office. Rolling my neck, I close my eyes. “All right. As soon as you come to a decision, whatever it is, please let me know.”

  “I will. You sound stressed, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not you. I’m going through another bout of insomnia. I’m tired, that’s all.”

  “Hmm...it’s been a while since your last bout. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to your doctor about it?”

  I shrug even though she can’t see me. “It’s fine. After a week or so it will die down.”

  “Sleepy?”

  Her voice is so soothing. “Hm.”

  “Did I ever tell you about the first time I visited Chicago?” I sigh. She’s doing it. Talking low, soothingly until I slip into sleep.

  ***

  Chris

  From the stree
t out front a fire truck honking yanks me out of sleep. I blink blearily. Snatching my cell off the floor, I see it’s a little after six in the morning. Muttering thanks to the asshole fire truck, I roll off the chair. My body protests, bitching about being folded up. I’ve slept in worse positions in worse places; all I care about is I feel twenty times better than I did this time yesterday when I was just getting to sleep at six. A long soak in the overpriced jetted bathtub, which has paid for itself five times over since it was installed, is what I’m needing over a shower.

  I turn on the tub before I get undressed. As soon as I’m in, my mind turns to Amelia. It’s weird, usually as soon as a woman’s out of sight she’s very much out of mind, at least until I’m in the mood to fuck. Amelia is definitely the game changer Travis called her. I’m already anticipating the verbal sparring she tries so hard at.

  Then I remember the moment when her eyes went wide yesterday; hell, even I was surprised by what came out of my mouth. As messed up as my parents were, I hadn’t given up on the idea of a wife, two point four kids and a dog. It was only after striking out twice in relationships I wrote the whole thing off. Babies, with Amelia...it was as crazy as it sounded. Only the second it was out I not only meant it, for a hard fucking minute I wanted it as badly as I wanted her. Little girls, with bright green eyes, sassy mouths and their mama’s smile.

  The idea makes my cock hard as I put the jets in motion. I love this damn bathtub, it has everything from saved settings to a timer, and it’s big enough to fit four people in it. I can’t wait to get Amelia in it. I chuckle at the way my cock bobs in the water. Imagining her reaction when she sees me, I go limp. Something tells me not only is Amelia a good girl, she’s a good girl without much experience.

  My cock isn’t easy even for women who are very experienced. At ten inches, most women are happily willing; the problem is I’m as thick as my wrist. Once I’m inside them, women love it, it just takes a lot of work for them to take me. Which is the reason I’ve learned to take my time, to enjoy bringing a woman to the point of where she isn’t afraid of my cock, she’s begging for it.

 

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