When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Sin: The Beginning)

by Hadleigh Stephens

  His well-worn chocolate brown leathers fit him perfectly in all the right places and the white linen shirt is stark against the dark tanned skin beneath making him look all the more masculine. Even more so than some of the men in their all black. I don’t want to think of him in those terms. I don’t want to think of him as sexy-as-hell. I want to be mad at him but he makes it damn difficult when he looks so freakin’ good. And I know him. I really believe I know him. And the him I know wouldn’t be that cruel. Wouldn’t lie like that. He would say it out loud. He would tell me he was going to the club. I want to believe that with everything in me. I want to believe that. I need to believe that.

  “Is that so?” he asks deadpan serious.

  I know by the way he says it, that he knows I want him to be right where he is and I know he can see the turbulent thoughts running through my mind and he knows that somewhere deep inside I expected him to show up at my door sometime during the night.

  I arch an eyebrow and nod my head. “Yes. I sent you a text.” I roll my eyes like I’m in junior high. “Mentioned something had come up.”

  He digs in his pocket, pulls out his phone, touches the screen a couple of times, then turns it so the screen faces me. “This message?”

  I glance down at the phone but don’t really see anything, then back up.

  “Got it.” His eyes sear into me, his lips thinning.

  My eyes narrow as his lips twitch and his casual response puts me on edge even more. Unfortunately, for some unknown perverse reason I manage to work up in my mind, I damn well ain’t gonna give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

  “Then why are you here?” My tone desperate, dropping my gaze because I can’t even look at him for a second without forgetting why I’m so pissed off and my eyes travel down his leather clad thighs almost forgetting what he’d done with that delicious distraction.

  I’m weak.

  Weak. Weak. Weak.

  Too damn weak.

  “I was at the club tonight, Angel.” He takes a step closer invading my space, taking up all of my air and I actually feel his stare.

  I stand still and straight, my robe in no way giving me the kind of protection that steel plates of armor would give me and I’m in desperate need of some of them right about now. It takes quite a bit of effort to finally lift my gaze to his face and fix it there. “Oh, were you there?” I ask innocently, but feel a flare of jealousy. My hands clench and unclench into tight fists and my fingernails bite into my palms making half-moons. The very thought of him touching another woman sets my teeth on edge and hits me like a hard punch in the gut.

  He smiles and I glare at him unwilling to lower my gaze, unwilling to yield to and allow him the control that he desires. I stand there uncertain and annoyed watching as he plays with his goatee, running his finger and thumb back and forth over his lower lip as if to control the direction of his mouth.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” he murmurs. “You know damn well I was there. I heard at the bar, from Penny of all people, that it was being tossed about like breaking news on CNN.”

  He oozes arrogant yumminess and my anger begins diminishing with each passing second which really starts to piss me off again. How easy is it for me to offer him forgiveness? I want to touch him and take him up on his offer from earlier in the week. The gentle look in his eyes stops my angry thoughts.

  “Just doing my job. Trust me.” His eyes wander over the room narrowing as they pass over my scattered clothes down the hall, then circle back to me.

  “Job?” My voice high-pitched, casting him a frustrated glance.

  “Job. And that’s all I can say,” he returns immediately his head tipped slightly to the side and his brows drawn together with a grim smile marring his beautiful mouth.

  I cross my arms back over my chest in a protective gesture and demand, “What kind of fool do you take me for?” My voice rises again, I lift my brow in question. “Obviously means nothing to you. As soon as you’re out of seeing distance you’re playing with someone else.”

  His stare’s intense and a look of genuine perplexity briefly crosses his face which surprises me. “It is part of my job as a Dom at the club, Kimberly,” he growls, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know what the fuckin’ responsibilities of a Dom are at the club. You’ve been there.”

  I don’t hesitate. Don’t use my brain at all. Don’t think about what I’m saying. Just say it and immediately want to kick my own ass. “Whatever.” Good freakin’ job, Kimberly. Very mature response. That’s when his eyes change and his smile makes my stomach flutter in that annoying way.

  “I didn’t fuck anyone, Angel.”

  I grow irritated that he would think now is an appropriate time to whip out one of those double dimpled smiles. “Well bless your heart,” I huff out giving him what I hoped to be a scathing look. “I guess you’ll be needing someone to suck your dick then.”

  “Angel.”

  I ignore the warning tone in his voice, dramatically throwing my hands up in the air. “Might as well have been.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep.” I answer belligerently.

  “Boy you’ve been filled with piss and vinegar for days, Angel.” He plants his feet wide and crosses his arms over his chest like he expects to be there for a good long while. “I thought we worked this out in the truck?”

  “Of course you would think by making me orgasm that all our problems had been resolved.”

  “Fuck, you’re making my dick hard with all your attitude.”

  My mouth falls open and I just stare at him for a second. “Well I wouldn’t be so full of piss and vinegar had you taken care of it like you said you would.”

  “Damn.” He breathes out a chuckle. “I told you I might be busy for a couple of days. I have an obligation to the club.”

  “And I’ll have you know I’m not pissed.” I tilt my head but don’t look him square in the eyes, my eyes darting around the foyer ‘cause I know I’m lying. I stare off into the living room but not really looking at anything particular. In fact, everything in my line of sight’s a blur. “I could care less what you do on your own free time. Life’s short. Go whole hog!”

  That only made his grin widen. “You’re flying off the handle because I got someone off under my flogger.”

  “They’re both intimate acts. What does it matter if you stuck your cock in her or not? She got off because of what you did with her.”

  “To her.”

  I shrug. “Matter of semantics.”

  “Did you only want me to be intimate with you, Angel?” His words come out on a husky whisper. “All you have to do is ask.”

  My eyes narrow at that and my nostrils flare and I laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You can do whatever you want,” I throw out flippantly with a flick of my wrist.

  “Women.” He takes in a deep breath. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot.” His eyes hold mine and they’re dark, almost black and very intense. “I’ve been letting you get away with a lot. Putting up with your smart ass mouth because I wanted to give you time, but I believe that time has ended tonight because I don’t think you want time. I don’t think you need time. I think you need my hand.”

  “You think you know a lot, don’t you? I don’t own you, Cooper.” I know I’m behaving irrationally but I can’t help it. My brain and heart are in a battle of catastrophic proportions. “You can fuck whoever you want.”

  “Do you want to?”

  My brows fly high up on my forehead and I growl. “You really askin’ me that now, Cooper?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” I holler up at the ceiling, my lips pursed for a second and I study his face to see if he’s pulling my leg. “So you thought it might be a good idea to come to my house still stinking of some hussy from the club and I would just lie down, legs spread wide and say fuck me, Cooper. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.” My voice high-pitched and mocking with my eyelashe
s fluttering wildly and my hands clasped tightly to my chest.

  His lips twitch, but his eyes turn serious. “Let me take a shower,” he says tiredly passing a hand over his face.

  “You didn’t shower at the club?” I shriek, my anger growing with each passing second.

  “I came straight here.” His mouth firm and his eyes glint, the only sign that he’s becoming quite impatient with my antics. “Isn’t that what you were after when you sent that ridiculous text?”

  I roll my eyes and spin around counting to ten. Again. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. “I’m the fuckin’ idiot.” I say to the room, not looking at him. “I’ve certainly acquired quite a knack for shitty ass relationships.” My stomach twists and lurches.

  “Do we have a relationship, Angel?” He reaches out grabbing one of the loose wet strands of my hair winding it tightly around his finger.

  “Now you want to be a dickhead?” I spin back around, sparks flying from my eyes and my head jerks back because his fingers are still twisted in my hair. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” I take a step closer without thought and poke him in the ribs with my fingertip. “I don’t have a fucking shower!” With my finger still digging into his ribs, I push him back with my other hand lying flat against his chest until he’s pressed up against the front door. “Which you would know if you’d bothered to ask prior to moseying into my house uninvited.” He doesn’t argue or fight he just stands calmly by while I rant and rave and jab at him with my nail and during all this he somehow manages to spike his hand deeper into my hair pulling me closer.

  “A bath?” Grasping my hand, he presses it flat against his chest right where his heart thumps out an erratic beat. “Take pity on me, Angel.”

  I look at him and there’s an unspoken question on my face, then I throw my free hand up in the air. “Why are you doing this to me?” I’m almost embarrassed by the whiney tone of my question, but not quite.

  “Because you’re mine.”

  And that’s it. That’s all the explanation I receive from him. Because you’re mine. What’s that? Now we’re reverting back to caveman tactics?

  We stand there glaring at each other. My hands fisted at my sides, his arms crossed over his chest. Flummoxed definitely describes how his words make me feel. This seems like one of those too unrealistic moments that don’t usually happen in real life. The big, strong man claims the delicate female and expecting little to no fight.

  I shuffle my feet nervously, crossing my arms in front of my chest. My eyes roam over his face taking in the seriousness of his expression. I watch his chiseled jaw clench and unclench. I let out a loud huffing breath. “Quit teasing me, Cooper.” I’m overwhelmed by the emotions swamping my body. Some good. Some bad. Some due to my feelings of inadequacy. Some because I want what he’s offering so freakin’ bad that I just know I’m gonna wake up at any moment and realize it’s all been a dream. I stand there as he brings his hand up to cup my jaw.

  “I’m not teasing you, Kimberly.” His eyes serious, they seem to penetrate my very soul, so I quiet for a moment and listen without judging. “I’ve had a rough day catching dangerous criminals and flogging strange women and I just want to wash the stink off.”

  “Dangerous criminals?” I’m curious now and he’s making me smile which is probably what he was going for anyway.

  “Second rate graffiti on the side of the bank on Main St.” His lips curve up in that sexy quirk and make tiny indentions in his cheeks. His eyes blink and he leans in just a bit more.

  “The horror.” I gasp, covering my mouth because I can’t stop the smile that spreads over my face at his words. “You’re making it very difficult for me to stay mad at you.”

  “Then my evil plan is working.” He rubs his hands together in front of his chest. Mischief dances in his gaze.

  I snort.

  “Everything has happened so fast, Angel. When I arrived in Edgeview, I didn’t expect to find you.” I actually see the effort it takes him to control his frustration. “Give me a break. I’ve got obligations that I just can’t quit.” He glides the pad of his finger down the slope of my nose. “All I ask is that you trust me.”

  I look at him without speaking.

  “Just know that I’m not Nate.”

  “I’m an idiot,” I say in a strangled voice. “What if all I’ve done is jump out of the frying pan only to land in the fire?”

  “You’re not an idiot.” He tunnels his fingers through his hair. “You’re overlooking the fact that I can be burned just the same.”

  My eyes snap to his. “Are you planning on hurting me, Cooper?”

  “Not if I can help it.” He moves closer, close enough for me to feel the heat of his body and smell his spicy scent and it’s delicious. It triggers and fires all of the synapsis in my brain that keep me right where I am and make me want to move even closer. Make me want to become one with this man.

  He knows it all. What I’ve recently gone through and it hasn’t scared him off so far. In fact, he’s been patient which actually freaks me out even more. After what happened the last time we came together, I’ve done nothing but crave his attention. I’d be lying if I said I had no idea why I feel such a desperate attraction to him.

  “You just get outta the bath?” He feathers his finger over my cheek, then traces gently over my lips.

  “Yep.” His finger slips between my lips when I answer and I wrap my tongue around the callused tip. His eyes close for a second, the right corner of his lip curving up at my actions.

  “I can just use your leftover bath water.” When his eyes open, they practically glow. “God, let me use your leftover bathwater, Angel.”

  I stand there frozen in place staring at him openmouthed.

  “It’ll be like bathing in the nectar from the gods.”

  Color rises in my cheeks at the euphoric look on his face and at the thought of him reusing my bathwater. A highly erotic picture floods my mind of the two of us bathing together. Our wet limbs slipping and sliding against the other. I jerk, quickly forcing my mouth shut as he moves my hand down his chest over his flat stomach and presses my palm over the rigid cock beneath his leathers.

  “I told them today that I won’t fuck anyone else in the club again. They need to pick someone else. I’ll do the rest, but I won’t fuck anyone else.”

  “You did?” I ask quietly but I know distrust is still evident in my eyes so I lower them. I want the fairytale. Granted, I know it’s a distorted fairytale. It’s like Cinderella after the ball tied to a bed, but it’s still a fairytale for me. It’s the one that I need. So that makes it okay. Right?

  He lifts my chin with his finger, shifting his body so that he looks directly into my face. “Let me prove it to you.”

  A shiver runs through me at his words and I swallow thickly but can’t say anything. Not yet at least. Finally, after saliva has made its way down my throat I’m able to say, “Do you want me to kneel?” I whisper hoarsely, my eyes drop, my hands clasped tightly in front of my body, my heart beating so loudly it sounds like a racing freight train in my ears.

  “Look at me.” His deep, dark chocolaty voice penetrates my thoughts running down my spine in delicious melty waves. “I want to be your lover, Angel.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.” I try to take a step back but his big hand stops me. God, he’s driving me crazy. I’m driving myself crazy. I’m so attracted to him it scares the hell outta me.

  “Do what?” One eyebrow lifts.

  “This lovey-dovey stuff.” I wave my hand around to avoid fidgeting nervously. “I obviously suck at it.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?” His eyes are trained on me and serious.

  I blow out my breath in frustration. “Quit trying to be cute,” I mutter, shuffling my feet over the cool hardwood floor. “These feelings of frustration make me feel so juvenile.”

  His voice comes out hoarse, low. “God help me, I want you anyway I can have you.” His bo
dy tightens for a second. “Fuckin’ craziest thing.”

  A not so subtle shiver races down my spine. “Yep, fuckin’ crazy.” What’s crazy is I feel exactly the same and it makes me want to jump up and down.

  “You need me to dominate you in the bedroom, fuck yeah, I’m all over that. But I want to be your lover and I don’t want you to be my slave. I’m not into that shit. Never have been.”

  I shake my head slowly from side to side, my voice hushed as I admit, “I never wanted to be a slave.”

  Cooper’s head snaps up at my whisper and it feels as if all the air has suddenly left the room. I watch as he squeezes the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. “What the fuck, Angel.” His voice a hoarse rasp as his hand falls to his side and his hands curl into tight fists making his knuckles white.

  “It just kinda happened.” My stomach’s suddenly queasy after I admit that out loud. When I admit that I hadn’t taken charge of my life, my relationship, my sexuality. I’d acted like someone desperate. Needy. I’m completely embarrassed to be standing in front of Cooper acknowledging how desperate I’d been.

  God, I really am a mess.

  And to top it off, I can’t even put a finger on when all of that had happened.

  “What the fuck!” he grits out, stabbing his hands through his hair with such force that I just know he’s gonna rip it out in huge chunks. “That kind of fuckin’ shit doesn’t just happen, Kimberly.” Frustration flashes in his eyes. “Why is that so hard for you to grasp?”

  “It’s so ridiculous. I was embarrassed to admit how little control I had over my actions.” My gut spasms and I swallow painfully. “What I needed was beyond the realm of anything I’d ever experienced before. I wanted someone to take over. I have such harsh control over everything else.”

  “You’re into that kind of shit, Angel, you sit down, you talk,” he says through tight lips. “You work it out, you write it down, you agree. It’s not a crapshoot.” He reaches for and grabs my hand, anger radiating off him in waves.

  I tug my hand free and whirl around the room in agitation. “I screwed up, Cowboy,” I say gruffly feeling my face change, my knees growing wobbly and my green eyes filling up with tears. “I screwed up pretty bad.” His fingers twine with mine his thumb running over the back of my hand. “Look at this place!” I sweep both arms wide. “The whole damn house is practically labeled. Ziploc baggies and label makers spend more time with me at home than anyone else. That’s not freakin’ normal!”