Sinful Desires: Vol. I

by M. S. Parker

  “I bought you something,” Anastascia said suddenly.

  My eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Because I missed your birthday and Christmas twice these last two years.” She was still smiling, but I could see the sympathy on her face. I was right. She knew things weren't going well for me. Her voice softened and I could see compassion in her deep brown eyes. “And because I knew you'd be thinking about not having anything to wear tonight but you'd be too proud to ask for help.”

  “Ana,” I started to protest.

  She put her finger over her mouth just like she used to do when we were younger and I'd start telling her she was being too generous. “It's your birthday and Christmas gifts, as well as an 'I'm glad to see you' present. Besides, I can't return it and we don't wear the same size.”

  That was true. I was about five-six and nothing to be ashamed of in the bust department, but Anastascia was five-eleven without heels and somewhere in an E cup. I'd borrowed a couple t-shirts when we were younger – and wore them as nightshirts. Whatever she bought me would end up going to Goodwill if I didn't accept it, and considering that was where I bought most of my clothes, I nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  She beamed.

  When we got off at Fishtown, I was surprised at how quickly it all came back. I might have been in Vegas for the past two years, but this city was in my blood. I wasn't sure if that meant I'd come back permanently some day, but it did mean I felt at home even though this wasn't my neighborhood. I smiled at the fishes decorating the doors and sidewalks.

  “This way.” She led the way, telling me about her job as a paralegal for a civil rights law firm.

  I'd never been a very talkative person, so it was just like old times as she let the conversation flow from one topic to the other. She'd occasionally ask questions, but when I'd only offer a short answer, she didn't push it. Talking on the phone with her had been different. I'd forgotten how much of our friendship was intuitive. She knew when to move on and when I wanted to talk but was reluctant to do so. A lump formed in my throat as she showed me to the guest room. The pain I'd been expecting at seeing the city again wasn't coming from memories of my mother, but rather from how much I missed having someone around who cared about me.

  She left me alone to clean up and by the time she returned with my dress, I'd gotten my emotions back under control. I would enjoy this time with her, but I wouldn't forget why I'd left or why I was going to stay away.

  “I was really hoping you hadn't gone through any extreme weight loss or something,” she said as she handed me a hanger with way less fabric than I'd expected. I glared at her. “Trust me, Piper.”

  I sighed. It wasn't like I had much of a choice. I took the dress and wondered what I was going to wear underneath it. All of my underwear was nice enough, but I'd never had the money for fancy lingerie. Not that I needed it. What I did need, however, was a strapless bra and a thong because there was no way anything I'd brought with me would work with this dress.

  “I got these with it.”

  As if she'd read my mind, Anastascia held out lace panties and a bra that both matched the dress. She gave me a grin and practically skipped out of the door, leaving me alone to change. I didn't even glance in the mirror as I put on the bra and panties, or as I wiggled into the impossibly tight dress. Only when I'd gotten everything adjusted and in the right place did I finally look up. And gasped.

  Anastascia had done an amazing job.

  The dress had only the thinnest of straps and the neckline was cut low. Combined with the bra, it actually gave me a decent amount of cleavage. Nothing as impressive as my friend would be sporting, but enough to accentuate my figure. The cut of the waist showed off the little bit of hips I had without making my muscular legs look like tree trunks. Most people don't realize how hard it is for athletes to find something that makes their legs – and arms for some – look nice. The hemline was mid-thigh, long enough to show off some skin, but not so short I was uncomfortable. The dress, and everything that had come with it, was a dark, rich emerald color that made my own dark green eyes glow and my hair shine. I didn’t bother to see if the cheap, faux leather shoes I’d brought with me would match. I was sure Anastascia would have a pair of heels that would look fabulous. Since my feet were a little bigger than average for my size and Anastascia had small ones, we met in the middle with the one thing we could share: footwear.

  Anastascia let out a whistle as she stepped back into the room.

  “Right back at you,” I said as I took in her dark red dress that highlighted every one of her curves.

  “What do you say we show up Rebecca and her snobby friends?” Anastascia asked with a grin.

  I nodded. I still wasn't feeling particularly enthused about the reunion, but at least most of the dread had gone away. I looked like I fit in now, and if people asked how I could afford living in Vegas, I could always tell them I was working while studying dance. No one had to know the details. It’s been five years, and maybe most of my classmates could be grown up enough to put aside social status and we could have a pleasant evening.

  Chapter 3

  I hadn't been back at the school for more than ten minutes before I realized how foolish that hope had been. After half an hour, it was painfully obvious that nothing had changed since high school, even if my wardrobe had improved. There was no doubt in anyone's minds that Anastascia had bought me the dress, confirmed by the multiple conversations I overheard regarding being my friend's charity case.

  I was already fuming when a tall, skinny young man with dark hair and a prominent Adam's apple approached. I didn't need to look at the name-tag to know it was Eddie Rancid, a kid with a last name so awful he should've been less popular than me in school. Not the case.

  “Hey, Piper.”

  He still had the same sleazy smile.

  “Hi, Eddie.” I kept my tone polite. Eddie had been picked on mercilessly in school for his sci-fi obsessions and bad complexion, but those weren't the reasons I hoped he'd keep walking.

  “Looking good.” His eyes ran over me and I could feel him mentally undressing me. Considering what I did for a living, the fact that I had to stop myself from shuddering spoke volumes about how creepy I found him.

  “Thank you.”

  He edged closer, invading my personal space. “You know, I wanted to ask you to prom senior year.”

  “Really?” I crossed my arms and tried to make a single word convey how not-interested I was.

  “I mean, I figured if anyone was going to put out, it'd be you.”

  Really? Had those words really just exited this dick head’s mouth? I gritted my teeth and could feel my temper start to rise as I ground out, “Is that so?”

  Either Eddie was a moron when it came to reading people's body language and inflections or he simply didn't care. I was willing to bet it was a little bit of both. Either way, I shouldn’t have been surprised when he kept talking.

  “Everyone knew girls from your neighborhood were easy. What are you doing aft––”

  Raising a hand to interrupt him, I inhaled slowly and then let it out. “I'm going to walk away now, Eddie, and if you know what's good for you, you're going to let me go.”

  He had the audacity to look shocked at my response. I caught a glimpse of the surprise on his face before I turned and headed towards the memorabilia display. I didn't really have anything I wanted to remember, but it was as far from Eddie as I could get while still being inside the building. I stayed there for a couple minutes, putting up with more sly glances and not-so-subtle comments, but then I couldn't take it anymore. I needed some air.

  “I'm going to take a walk,” I said, leaning close enough to Anastascia to be heard over the music without raising my voice.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” There was concern in her eyes.

  I shook my head. “Stay.” She'd been subjected to some prejudice in school due to being mixed race, but most of her isolation had been self-imposed, choos
ing me over the shallow rich kids who were now fawning over how great she looked and all of the wonderful things she did. She deserved her time in the spotlight.

  Before she could argue, I hurried away. No one stopped me and only a few even looked my way. I cut a wide path around where I saw Rebecca and her gang of friends chatting. They probably all still lived in the city and met for brunch every Sunday, picking at salads that cost more than a full meal at some places and sharing the latest gossip. I wasn't entirely sure I'd be able to keep myself from slapping that smirk off her face if she said something, so I figured it was better to steer clear. I didn't want to be the girl who got kicked out of the reunion for fighting. Despite my current occupation, I had too much self-respect for that.

  I took a deep breath as I stepped out into the chilly evening. It wasn't quite freezing, but there was a bite in the air that said winter hadn't quite relinquished its grip despite it being early May. I rubbed my hands over my arms as I looked around the school grounds and tried to figure out what I was going to do while I waited for the reunion to end.

  “Are you cold?”

  I froze, and not because of the air. I didn't have to turn towards the voice, however, because the owner of it was stepping around so I could confirm what I already knew.

  “Rebecca insisted I bring her tonight when her date canceled, but as soon as she got here, she went off with her friends.” Reed flashed a charming smile. “I was trying to think up an excuse to leave when you came out. Looks like you're as bored as I am. Want to take a walk with me?”

  Chapter 4

  It had been almost three years since I'd walked down Germantown Avenue. Those last couple years with my mother, I hadn't gone anywhere but home, work and the hospital, but before that, when I'd been at St. George's, I'd walked down here often. I'd hated the school, but the neighborhood, with its cobbled streets and little shops, was beautiful. I'd walked it in the morning, afternoon and evening. I'd walked it with Anastascia as well as alone.

  But I'd never dreamed I'd be walking it with Reed Stirling.

  “I always preferred Chestnut Hill to the city,” Reed said suddenly, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence between us. He didn't look at me, but I risked a sideways glance at him. His hands were in his pockets and he looked completely relaxed. “It's one of the reasons I asked my parents to sell me our family home out here rather than buying an apartment in the city like they and my sister have. I got my fill of city living when I was at Columbia getting my MBA.”

  Like with Anastascia, I didn't hear any arrogance as he spoke about his family's wealth. I appreciated that he didn't try to downplay it either. That was a mistake people often made, thinking that those of us who had less money would want them to act as if their money was shameful.

  “It is beautiful here,” I admitted. “I remember the first time I came here, when my mom brought me to do the testing to get into St. George's, and I thought about how amazing it must be to live here.”

  “But you left the city,” he said.

  “I did.” I waited for the next inevitable question about what I'd been doing since graduation.

  It didn't come.

  “I remember you.”

  “What?” I looked over at him, startled.

  He gave me that smile again. “I'll admit it. I didn't recognize you at first, but once my sister said your name, I remembered you.”

  I raised my eyebrows, letting my expression show my skepticism.

  “I swear.” He held up his hands as we started back up the hill. “Believe it or not, even the juniors heard about the freshman who told Professor Kirkwood that Ernest Hemingway was a drunken misogynist with an ego the size of Spain and a writing style reminiscent of a sleep-deprived toddler.”

  My face grew hot. I'd forgotten about that. Needless to say, Professor Kirkwood and I hadn't gotten along very well after that. I'd gotten the impression that if he could've flunked me, he would've. My scores had just been too high.

  “I can't believe you remember what I said,” I mumbled.

  “Are you kidding?” He grinned. “Kirkwood was a pompous windbag everyone had wanted to see taken down a peg or two.”

  I laughed, my cheeks flushing at the admiration in his voice, and started to cross the street. My heel caught in one of the trolley tracks and I stumbled. Reed's arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me upright. Without breaking his grip, he bent and gently pried the heel of my shoe from where it was wedged. When he straightened, there was barely an inch between us.

  He looked down at me, his dark eyes searching my face as if he was trying to read my mind. Then a car horn honked, only two soft taps, but enough to break his gaze. I took a step, expecting him to relinquish his hold. He didn't. His arm stayed around my waist as we made our way to the other side of the street, his thumb stroking up and down as we walked.

  He was only worried about my safety, I kept telling myself, only wished to avoid another near-accident. But when we reached the sidewalk, he didn't pull away, only seemed to hold me closer to his side. My heart was pounding and it didn't have anything to do with the walk.

  “By the way,” he said. “I'm sorry my sister was such a bitch to you earlier.”

  “Yeah, well, I'm used to it.” The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  He gave me a sideways glance and I could see he was debating whether or not to ask. If he didn't, I'd let it go, but if he did, I'd tell him the truth. I wasn't going to sugar coat it. Instead of blowing it off or pushing further, he said the last thing I expected.

  “I always hoped she'd outgrow it, but sometimes I think she's a bigger bitch now than she was back then, and I know that's saying something.”

  I laughed. I couldn't help it. I thought he'd try to defend her or at least pretend to be offended.

  “Rebecca's my sister, so I love her, but I don't like her very much.”

  “Me either,” I admitted.

  “And I have a feeling, if she saw you tonight, she'd be even worse than usual.” He gave me a slow once over, his gaze heated. “You look amazing.”

  I flushed, suddenly aware of the electricity racing across my skin from where we were touching. “Do we have to keep talking about your sister?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He grinned at me. “I'd prefer we didn't.”

  “What'd you want to talk about then?” I regretted the question as soon as I'd asked it. I'd just given him an open invitation to ask about anything, including what my life was like now. Telling him I was a stripper would definitely send him running.

  “Didn't you used to work at the trolley car diner?”

  I looked over at him in surprise. “Yeah, I did.”

  “I thought so.” His eyes sparkled with humor. “They did a whole retro day where you ladies had to wear fifties clothes, right?”

  I groaned and shook my head. Of all the ways for him to remember having seen me, a poodle skirt and pink cardigan that clashed with my hair was not what I would've chosen.

  “I'd come home for summer break,” he continued. “And I'd been craving those amazing cinnamon buns they had.”

  “The ones with the cream cheese icing.” I nodded in agreement. I actually hadn't minded my job, especially the food part. The customers, on the other hand, hadn't always been so delightful. “Your sister used to come in...” I let my voice trail off.

  “We're talking about her again,” he said and looked at me, a determined expression on his face. “Let's see if I can do something about that.”

  When he yanked me towards him, I gasped and he took advantage of my parted lips to cover my mouth with his, running his tongue along my bottom lip before darting it inside.

  There was an edge to the playfulness, a desire that made my stomach warm. His arm slid around my waist as I leaned into him, my fingers gripping handfuls of his shirt. His lips were soft, moving with mine with an unhurried laziness. When he finally raised his head, it was only far enough that we could meet gazes. His eyes truly looked black no
w and I shivered.

  “I can walk you back to the reunion and the kiss stays a kiss.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Or we can go to my place and…” His lips sank into mine, finishing his sentence for him.

  Need stroked through me like a knife and I realize the choice wasn’t a choice at all. I would go with him, be with him; I’d be greedy for the first time in my life.

  “Yes,” I whispered into his mouth and he moaned, his hands fisting in my hair. Then he turned, pulling me behind him and we walked the quarter mile in silence.

  I tried not to think about how his house cost more than my entire apartment building back in Vegas, and then he was shutting the door behind us and leading me towards what I assumed was his bedroom. I quit caring about how rich he was.

  We were in darkness for a moment, and then a light came on, filling the room with a soft, warm glow. I registered a bed, nightstand and dresser, but didn't get any details before Reed was pulling me into his arms.

  When his mouth came down on mine this time, there was none of the humor that had been there before. This was all wanting. Lust. Need. One hand slid down my spine to the small of my back, his fingers on the swell of my ass. The other hand moved up until he was cupping the back of my head, those fingers buried in my hair. My hands went around his neck and I pressed my body against his. I ran the tip of my tongue along his bottom lip and he opened his mouth wider, letting me slip inside. I could taste the champagne they'd been serving at the reunion mingled with the sharp tang of fruit from the buffet. His tongue curled around mine and I moaned.

  As a teenager, I'd imagined what it would be like to be kissed by Reed Stirling. My imagination hadn't done him nearly enough justice. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip and I pulled back. Concern filled his face and I knew he was worried that I hadn't liked it. I slid my hands under his jacket and pushed it off of his shoulders.

  “Too many clothes.”