Fighting Lust: A Deadly Sins Novel (17 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Miller

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Fighting Lust: A Deadly Sins Novel
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My mind flashes to countless bars, dance clubs, and hotel rooms where I’ve met men. I see times I’ve woken up in bed with men I didn’t even know. Random nameless faces flash before my eyes like a sick montage. I remember the countless times I’ve cried and begged that it would just end, that I could just stop. The numerous lies I’ve told to cover up my secret. I remember many times I’ve wished and prayed that I could find the strength to stop the painful cycle. Could it be that this man before me is the answer to those hopes and prayers? The ones I’ve been whispering to myself in private, vulnerable moments?

“No,” I tell him and it comes out raspy. “No, that’s not what I want. At all.”

“Then I’m asking you to take a chance with me. I don’t want that anymore either. And I have to say, I didn’t expect this.”

“This?” I ask confused.

“You. I didn’t expect you. But, here we are. And I’m not willing to let you be nothing more than just hot sex in a bathroom. I’m also not the kind of man that’s too much of a pussy to make my intentions clear. I’m not playing games with you.”

“One month, huh?”

“One month. And, like I said, we’re honest with each other. If it’s not working, then we say so.”

“We would be dating one another exclusively during this challenge?”

“Fuck yes,” he says staring at me hard. “I will
not
share you with anyone else. That’s a deal breaker.”

Swallowing hard at his intensity, I nod, “Understood.”

“So, challenge accepted?” he asks holding out his hand.

“Wait,” I say, which makes him drop his hand. “We don’t have a reward. Doesn’t every challenge have some kind of reward at the end? We should have one at the end, assuming we make it.”

“You mean besides hot sweaty sex?”

I laugh, “Yes, besides that. Because I don’t know if we’ll make it that far, so how about some incentive for us both? We can…I know, how about we each request something from the other?”

“Hmmm, okay.” His face lights up and a sinful smile emerges, “When we get to one month, you’ll let me tie you to my bed and have my way with you for hours.”

Shivers run through every single inch of my body so fast, it makes me breathless. My nipples harden and I have to cross my legs because of the ache his words immediately put there. It takes effort to shake off his suggestion. “I was thinking something non-sex related, remember?”

He sighs heavily, “Fine, then how about you’ll tell me your a-ha moment.”

“Okay,” I nod slowly, the thought of sharing that part of me makes nerves flutter in my stomach and I automatically press a hand there to stave them off. “And for my reward, I want you to trade out your fighting shorts for a new pair.”

“My fighting shorts?”

“Yeah you know. The ones you wear during fights that say ‘Playboy’ on them.”

“You know about those?” He asks and I swear I see his cheeks flush just a bit. Well I’ll be damned.

“I know all about Ryder ‘Playboy’ King.”

“What? Then why did you act like you didn’t when the hostess asked for my autograph?”

“Because you were embarrassed and it was amusing.”

“That’s low,” he says and I laugh. “You know all about me, you said?”

“Yep,” I say popping the ‘p’ and smiling knowingly.

“How?”

“I looked you up. Have you seen all the pictures there are of you on the internet? Quite astonishing really. The ladies like you. I get the name.” This time I’m sure his cheeks are pink. “Anyway, I think that for my reward, I’m going to have some nice pink sparkly shorts made up for you. All blinged out with my name on your ass.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Oh yeah? Not gonna happen. You should think of something else, because I won’t wear those.”

Shrugging, I smile. “We’ll see.”

He shakes his head, “Well, you have a month to think of something else.” I laugh at his clear resistance to pink shorts and it makes him smile.

And this time when he puts his hand out, I shake it, confirming our mutual challenge.

 

 

It’s been one hell of a long twenty- four hours. My shift at the fire station was a slow one. I spent more time lifting weights and shooting the shit with the guys than anything else. It was my turn to help make dinner so going to the store and prepping the meal filled some time. Thoughts of Tessa were never far, and I replayed our dinner and conversation a couple nights ago over and over. These feelings of excitement and anticipation over a girl are ones I haven’t felt in a long time. I never thought they’d be welcome again.

Just as my mind began reliving the moment I brought her home, an emergency call comes in. According to dispatch, a restaurant kitchen fire has gotten out of control and has turned into an all out inferno. We’re dressed in our gear and out of the station in record time. Happy to put our time to good use, yet dreading the call and aware of the potential harm to the squad and those involved, it’s the typical conundrum of the job.

By the time we arrive, the little mom and pop Mexican food eatery is engulfed in flames. It takes two hours to get the flames completely extinguished and by that time, there was nothing left. If there is any saving grace in these kinds of situations, it’s that in a state full of restaurants located in strip malls, this was a freestanding place, so there weren’t additional businesses affected by the fire. I know it doesn’t help the owner, but it’s a true blessing. Another plus was that no one was hurt. The restaurant had closed earlier in the day due to a faulty stove – which now looks like it was a gas issue. They had called the gas company and a repairman and made arrangements for them to investigate and tend to the stove early the next day before opening. If ever there was an error in judgement, this would be one of them. Not sure why businesses don’t think to call us. This whole thing may have been preventable.

One thing I will never get used to is seeing the devastation in the faces of the people affected by the fires. The middle aged Hispanic couple that owned the restaurant stood clutching hands watching helplessly as their livelihood burned to the ground. Family members joined them and offered support. Tears ran down faces. The restaurant had been in their family for a couple of generations, so it was a tough loss, but they stoically told us that this was merely one of life’s setbacks and that they were definitely going to rebuild. Seeing their pain -and hearing earnest resilience - is something you never get used to.

Exhausted afterward, I couldn’t wait for the end of my shift to come and to get home. Once in my car, I drove as fast as I dared, eager to take a shower and catch a bit of sleep. My plans are to go and see Tessa at the hospital when I wake up. She told me when I texted her that she was working a twelve-hour shift today and she’s barely started, so I can get some rest and still wake up and see her. I’d like to surprise her – bring her some coffee and food. Plus, showing her how easy and effortless this little thing between us can be will be an added bonus.

Inside my apartment, I make a beeline for the bathroom. Stripping down, I get in the shower and sigh as the warm water hits my skin. My mind begins to relax and not surprising, thoughts of Tessa appear and I begin reliving the night I brought her home from our date.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” Tessa says to me as we stand in the doorway of her apartment.

“Why do you sound surprised by that?”

She laughs softly, “Because I suppose I am.”

“You’re hurting my ego here.”

“Somehow I doubt that’s possible,” she teases.

“You’d be surprised.”

“Maybe, but I really am glad that you asked me to dinner.”

“I am too. Even though I wasn’t sure you were going to go for it at first.”

She laughs and I’m reminded that the sound is my new favorite thing. “You took me by surprise. It’s…nice.”

“I’ll take ‘nice’.”

She smiles up at me and I take in the twinkle in her eyes, the smile at her lips. The way her red hair lights up her whole face and how standing this close to her, I can see the hint of freckles she tries to hide under makeup. I wish she wouldn’t. I cup the side of her face in my hand and drag my thumb over them, trying to unmask their beauty.

“You shouldn’t cover these up,” I say out loud, not meaning to. She looks at me in confusion, “Your freckles. I love them.”

She makes a funny face displaying her apparent displeasure of them. I respond by kissing one that’s just above her lip, and then another on the tip of her nose, followed by another above her brow.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Saying hello to each one.”

She laughs, “That could take you a while. There are a lot.”

“Sounds like a new goal of mine,” I move my mouth and kiss one just below her eye. I pull back for a moment, then begin to move my mouth toward hers.

“So, does this one month of no sex thing mean no kissing? On the mouth?” she whispers, her eyes intently watching my lips.

“No.” I respond. “Definitely not. I’d lose my mind.”

“Does it mean no touching?”

“Clearly not,” I tell her keeping one hand cupping her face but wrapping my other around her waist.

“That’s a relief,” she responds and then startles me when she rises on her tiptoes and places her mouth on mine. My body, my mind, and my heart all remember her vividly because they respond accordingly. My body immediately catches on fire at her touch, my cock immediately stiffens in my pants, and my mind remembers the kisses we shared before in the bathroom. Remembers how I gave in and kissed a woman on the mouth for the first time in years. My heart beats hard at the contact. When her mouth opens, I taste her, and it’s fucking fantastic. We both moan simultaneously. She tastes like strawberries and vanilla and I kiss her hard and I kiss her long. I want her to feel that I desire her, to have no doubt that I’m attracted to her. But, after a moment, I pull away. I want her to know that I desire more than just this. More than just physical attraction. It’s almost impossible, but I manage to back off a little, biting her bottom lip playfully as I pull away.

Taking a deep breath, I don’t move anything other than my head. My body stays pressed to hers and I’m afraid it’s going to take a crowbar or willpower that I don’t have to move away from her, let alone walk away. A huge part of me wants to say fuck it and throw her over my shoulder and stomp into her apartment and throw her down on the bed and screw her brains out until she’s screaming her release. It would be hot as hell, but I’m not going to do that to her. She deserves to know she’s worth more. And when she smiles at me, it becomes easier to do it because even though she hasn’t said anything, I know exactly what she’s thinking right now. She’s thinking there’s no way we can make it to one month. I saw the doubt in her eyes when I suggested it.

With a big sigh, I step back from her and smile. Her smile falters a bit at the space between us, which makes me smile wider. “I have your number. I’ll text you tomorrow. And I’d like to see you again soon.”

“I’d like that too,” she says, her voice raspy sexiness.

“Good night,” I murmur before turning and walking away. I hear her say the same at my back.

Leaving her standing there, both of us wanting more, was so fucking hard – in more ways than one. I came home and beat off in the shower twice, imagining her there with me. Imagining a very different ending to our night. But, that’s okay, because it’s worth it – she’s worth it – I can feel it in my gut. Closing my eyes, I begin counting her freckles, as if they’re sheep, to lull me to sleep.

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