The Secret (The Evolution Of Sin Book 2) (16 page)

“Are you fucking kidding me, Elena?” Sebastian said, rounding on her with clenched fists.

“Me?” she asked, her eyes wide with faux sincerity. “What did I do wrong? In fact, I think Giselle should thank me. I just secured her a commission.”

Even I gasped at that.

Sinclair dropped her arm as if it were a poisonous thing and looked down at her with cool censure. “Giselle’s grace just secured her the commission as well you know. You tried to make her feel little,
non
?”

Elena opened her mouth to protest but Cage cut in, “Karma’s a bitch, uh Elena?”

Her lips pursed with delicate displeasure but her eyes flashed as they swept over me, striking me with the force of a tiger’s paw. I stepped back as pain radiated through my chest.

“Daniel, I really didn’t mean anything by it.” She looked up at him from under her lashes. It wasn’t until that moment that fury took root in my heart. Was she really going to try to bamboozle him out of his anger?

I vibrated.

Cage put a hand on my arm to calm me. I was surprised when it helped a little.

“I don’t care what you intended,” I said before Sinclair could completely lose what little resolve he had left to keep calm. “Either way, it was a thoughtless thing to say. I am not painting sexual perversions and if you feel that way about my work, please keep it to yourself or, at the very least, don’t speak about it with potential patrons.”

She stared at me with storm cloud eyes just a few shades darker than my own and I stared right back. It was the first time I had really stood up to her passive aggressiveness and it felt scary but really good.

Finally, she gave a little nod and said, “Of course, Giselle, whatever you want.”

It wasn’t really an apology but I nodded anyway before turning to Cage and Sebastian. “Well, I think we’ve had enough of tonight, don’t you?”

Sebastian laughed softly and slung an arm over my shoulder. “Hell yeah.”

“We’ll see you Thursday for Thanksgiving though,” Elena reminded us sharply as we began to walk away.

“Oh goody,” Sebastian murmured drolly and we walked out laughing even though we had both left our hearts in the Four Seasons ballroom.

Chapter Eleven.

My heart was beating like a mad thing in my chest, hammering against the ribbed walls almost painfully.

It was finally Tuesday.

Sure, it would probably be the last night I would ever spend with him but I was grateful for the closure and maybe just the teeniest bit hopeful that it wouldn’t be the end.

I smiled at my reflection, pleased to find the Giselle I had unearthed in Mexico smiling back at me. My entire day had been decadent, mostly thanks to Candy who had insisted on a girl’s day at the spa. I had been steamed, plucked, manicured, pedicured and, for the first time in my life, waxed bare. I’d run my hands over the ultra sensitive flesh as I pulled on my carefully selected lingerie, art nouveau inspired high waisted satin panties and a balconette that barely contained my breasts. My waves were brushed out until they gleamed, the usual mascara and blush was applied and I had anointed my pulse points with lavender oil, knowing how much Sinclair enjoyed the scent on me.

It was fun to take a day to pamper myself and it wasn’t something I would have done even six months ago. So, I made a promise to myself that even if this was my last night with Sinclair, I wouldn’t let it impact the positive changes his presence had made on me.

But I also promised myself that I wouldn’t ruin the night with heaviness and questions and even though I was so incandescently happy that I felt like I could float into space like a rising star, there was no accounting for how the night would evolve and I wanted to be prepared.

I was just putting on some music after finally deciding between John Legend and Nora Jones, when my phone vibrated violently and fell off the kitchen counter.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry, I was so nervous I had to call! Is he there yet?” Candy’s voice chirped through the phone as if she was yelling in my ear.

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have answered.”

“Right,” she paused sagely. “So, what’s up?”

“Candy!” I laughed. “Why are you bothering me?”

“Oh come on, it’s not like you don’t need the distraction. He isn’t due for another fifteen minutes and don’t you dare tell me you haven’t already fluffed the pillows, plumped up the girls and turned on some sultry tunes. I bet you’re practically itching with restless anticipation.”

She wasn’t wrong, so I sighed and flopped down on the mahogany leather loveseat in the living room so I could keep an eye on the door.

“I fluffed the pillows twice actually.”

She snorted. “I don’t doubt it. This is your big chance to show him that you’re the right choice. It’s a pretty big deal.”

I hummed into the phone but a niggling question kept popping into my head. “Candy? How do
you
know I’m the right choice? I don’t even know if I believe that.”

“Oh, Elle, I know your naivety is part of your wonderful charm but I do wish you could see yourself the way other people do. You are, I don’t know,” she huffed, “lovely. Just natural and kind and charming. Everything that Sinclair has a hard time emulating.”

It was my turn to snort. “I’ve completely fucked up his life.”

“Well, yeah, that too,” she agreed cheerfully. “But in a good way.”

“This conversation is giving me a headache.”

“Really? I think it will be the highlight of my night.”

“Maybe we should spend more time talking about your love life then.” I paused. “I saw you dancing with Cage at the gala.”

There was a long stretch of silence. I stared at my pale lavender manicure while I waited.

“That’s an entirely different can of worms,” she said finally. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m fantastic. But Cage is going to be an American rock star, and he will never think of me as anything besides Candy Kay, Sinclair’s trusty side kick.”

I wanted to argue with her but the thing was, I didn’t want to lie either and I wasn’t sure if Cage ever
would
see Candy in a romantic light. Truthfully, I had seen him look at Elena with more passion than he had ever expressed with Candy.

“Wow, now that I’ve finished being a Debbie downer, tell me what you’re wearing.”

I almost choked on my laughter. “You helped me pick them out this afternoon!”

“Right, damn. Okay, you are officially no fun. I’m going to get back to my riveting night of Netflix binge watching and rabid popcorn eating.”

“What show is it tonight?” I asked through my chuckle.

“The new season of House of Cards. Is it wrong that I think Frank Underwood is a total hunk?”

“Cage
and
Frank Underwood? You have eclectic taste, I’ll give you that.”

She snorted. “Yours is better.”

A brisk knock at the door struck my heart into a staccato beat. I jumped up from the couch and was halfway to the door before I realized I was still on with Candy.

“It is,” I agreed, already beaming as I hung up and swung open the red door.

Sinclair was smiling too. My favorite smile, the one that curved his cheeks and broke the ice in his blue eyes so that they flooded with warmth. We stood staring at each other like that for a long time and even though I felt stupid just standing there staring at the too-good-to-be-true man in front of me, I was too giddy to care because he was doing the exact same thing.

“Hi,” I finally said, a little breathlessly.

“Hi.” His grin deepened. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“Yes, of course.” I blushed, which made him chuckle, which, of course, made me flush even further.

We had been alone together for thirty seconds and it was already the best night of my life.

I stepped to the side as he moved into the apartment and inhaled deeply when he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to my cheek. I pressed my hand to his chest, felt the beat beneath my splayed fingers and grinned up into his face.

“Can I say that I’m so happy you’re here?”

Sinclair’s face was neutral again, perfectly held in repose more beautiful than Michelangelo’s David but his eyes gleamed with contentment.

“Only if I can say it back.”

I tipped my head back and laughed. “God, that was cheesy.”

One of his dark brows arched. “Oh, really?”

His hand slipped between my breasts, down my belly and around to the base of my spine where he flattened it, pulling me against his groin. I groaned when I felt the hard ridge of his erection against my belly.

“Is this cheesy?” he taunted, before capturing my mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping past my lips in a way that made my knees buckle.

I didn’t worry though, because a second later, his hands were under my butt, lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pushed me against the door, gasping against his lips when he ground his hips into me.

It took me a moment to reorient myself when he suddenly pulled away, setting me gently on my feet as he stepped back. I blinked at him, my swollen lips open over my panting breath.

His chuckle was deep, a frequency that made me shiver compulsively. “Don’t fret, my siren.” He brushed his cool thumb over my bottom lip. “We have time. We have all night.”

“What?”

“We have all night,” he repeated casually, but his lips twitched.

“Elena’s out of town?”

His thumb dipped between my teeth and rested on my tongue. Automatically, I closed my lips over it and sucked. I watched his eyes darken and felt myself throb.

“We have all night,” he said again.

My cheeks ached with the force of my grin and even though I was desperate to touch him after weeks of careful avoidance, I didn’t. There was still so much between us that if I pressed my hand to the gap stuck between us I knew it would push fruitlessly against the clotted air. There were ways to cut through it but most were so dangerous, so scary in ways both good and bad, that I didn’t know how to take action.

So, I just stared at him with a dumb smile while I cataloged the fall of his dark hair over his forehead, barely red in the low light of the entryway, and the way his tailored Oxford blue button down conformed to the honed muscles underneath. He stood with both hands in his pockets, fists clenched, and even though his face was as implacable as always, I knew that tell. He wanted to claim me just as badly as I needed to be taken by him. He could have been hesitating for so many reasons but I hoped it was because he feared that he’d lose his eternal control.

I looked at the floor, happy that my hair fell forward to cover my suddenly shy smile. “Can I take your coat?”

He slipped out of the heavy black coat and handed it to me without letting our fingers brush. My heart was beating strangely, sliding and skipping over beats in my chest. I was breathing erratically too, in anticipation.

Sinclair toed off his beautiful leather loafers and on some strange impulse, I ducked down to grab them, thinking to put them in the closet with the rest of the shoes but Sinclair’s hand on the top of my head froze me in a crouch. My body hummed under his touch.

“What are you doing?” His voice was liquid and when I looked up into his face, it was taut with desire.

I swallowed convulsively. “I thought I would put your shoes away.” I laughed nervously. “I actually don’t have a clue.”

“I have to disagree with you on that. You seem to know exactly what you’re doing.”

My heart clipped briskly against my ribs and I licked my lips, wondering if maybe I did know what I was doing, if I had subconsciously known how being on my knees before him would affect him. I shifted from my crouch to my knees and sat down on my heels, spreading my legs slightly and placing my hands demurely before me. My heart beat so quickly it fluttered, a hummingbird knocking at my pulse points. My hair fell in a soft curtain around my face as I tilted my gaze to the floor. I knew how I looked sitting like that, because I had practiced the traditional submissive pose in the mirror in preparation for tonight.

It was astonishing to me that I could enjoy being so bold, taunting him as I just had, and yet so deeply crave my submission to him. Six months ago, I hadn’t known anything beyond the bounds of sexual abuse and timid sexuality. Now, I felt like a live wire, still beneath the plastic coating but thrumming always with a vibrant sensuality.

His sharp intake of breath filled me with triumph.

“Yes, siren, I think you know exactly what you are doing.”

His hand slipped from the top of my head, down the side of my cheek to grasp my chin and raise it gently to meet his gaze. “I am in a shockingly good mood, so I am going to give you a choice. You can get up, hang up my coat and lead me into the kitchen where we can continue the night as if we were on our first real date, with all the sweetness and awkwardness that accompanies that…” He paused and his eyes glittered as his hand sunk deep into my hair to tilt my head back almost brutally. “Or, you can take me between those sweet lips like you’ve been wanting to do for weeks. I think you missed pleasing me almost more than I missed the feel of your wet mouth around my cock.”

I moaned, both shocked and overwhelmed by his words. My body was already changing, my muscles melting into pliability, ready to mold themselves into whatever position he desired. Saliva flooded my mouth, moisture pooled between my legs and my nipples furled atop my heavy breasts. In two sentences, Sinclair had turned me on more than anything else ever had.

“Tell me what you want.”

I wanted to moan again but I knew he loved the words. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Who do you want me to be?”

I opened my mouth to ask what he meant but one look in his eyes showed me the dominant caged there, yearning for release even as he gave me the keys to the lock.

I hadn’t planned on starting the evening this way but I should have known we wouldn’t be able to resist. It had been too long since our last night together and even though we had only ever been together sexually for one week, my body was trained to respond to his like this. More than that, I wanted his dominance and control because they were intrinsically married to
my
power and pleasure.

“You,” I said firmly. “My Sinclair.”

His hand clenched in my hair and his nostrils flared as the Dom was unleashed. “Very well. Clasp your hands behind your back. You may only use your mouth.”

I threaded my fingers together at the base of my spine obediently while he undid the buckle of his leather belt and lowered his zipper. I was already panting. The rough sound of the zipper was like a physical caress against my overheated flesh and I shuddered when his hand disappeared within his loosened slacks to reappear with my prize.

He was already magnificently hard. The sight of his swollen flesh within his fist, slowly stroking, made me whimper.

“So eager,” he murmured. “I’ve dreamt of you, Elle, exactly like this. I love knowing that I put that flush on your creamy skin, that you’re wet just sitting like that for me, waiting for me to touch you. I love knowing that even this,” his fingers trailed from the edge of my jaw to the hollow of my collarbone, “turns you on. You want me with every breath you take.”

He stepped closer until he was almost brushing my lips. A bead of moisture adorned his crown and I licked my lips unconsciously. My tongue caught the edge of his flesh, the salty taste of his skin making me moan. He brushed the tip of his erection against my open lips, painting them with his arousal like lipstick. When I tried to take him into my mouth he pulled back, stroking himself faster now but still controlled.