Tempted by a Sinner (Seven Sinners Book 4)

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Tempted by a Sinner (Seven Sinners Book 4) Page 12

by A G Henderson


  “Ah.” Her grin drew my eyes like magnets. I was in trouble with this one. I really was. “Something tells me I have him to thank for how annoyingly generous you can be.”

  “Annoying? Me? You’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Wait. What?

  “I must be confused,” she continued. “Seeing as how I don’t know any guys who would go out of their way to make sure a girl they just met had an impressively successful opening day and then not take credit for it.”

  I rubbed at the heat trying to crawl up my neck. Then her hand fell, settling on top of mine, and I froze in that position before realizing how dumb I looked.

  She wasn’t even doing anything for crying out loud. Just her palm sitting in my open one.

  Why was I freezing up?

  “I prefer to handle things without an audience,” I said slowly, too focused on our singular point of contact.

  Was my hand as stiff as it felt?

  Could she feel my pulse speeding up?

  Was there-

  “You don’t have an audience right now.”

  I blinked. Blinked again. Was I disoriented enough to be hearing things? Or had that sultry, tempting cadence come from her lips?

  When I looked again, Naomi was blushing, cheeks flushed with color I wanted to capture between my palms. But those eyes—brighter gold around the edges like sunlight spilling into a forest—met mine evenly. And there was a playful twist to her pink lips I didn’t think I’d seen before.

  I knew I could get used to seeing it though.

  My voice dropped several octaves. “You trying to get handled, Smoothie Girl?”

  Her hand curled on top of mine and she raised a dark brow.

  “Depends,” she said, making me go tense with anticipation.

  Was there anything she could suggest I would refuse to do if it meant having those lips on mine? That hair splayed across my sheets? That tiny body and hot, wet core pinned beneath me?

  Not knowing the answer worried me.

  But not enough to make me walk away, either. And wasn’t that the plan before she arrived and pried me open with nothing more than soft questions?

  “Depends on what?” I prompted on a low growl when it seemed she would wait until I lunged over the seats and took the decision from her.

  “Lynn is doing a dinner thing tomorrow, to celebrate. She’ll definitely show up with Mathias. Be my plus one? Save me from watching them make out all night?”

  She glanced away when she finished, worrying at the corner of her lip, spunky confidence fading as the words lingered in the air between us. I almost didn’t breathe while I played her words back in my head, and they didn’t change.

  This woman—who was already making a big enough impact on me that it should’ve felt like a betrayal to Katherine but didn’t—was asking me on a date.

  A date.

  Is this what it feels like when a brain explodes?

  She focused on some spot between her legs, absently drawing circles against the leather with short nails. “If you don’t want to go…” Her hand started to move away from mine.

  I locked our fingers together, not letting her go. She glanced up at me, watching my lips caress syllables that felt too familiar. Too right in some meaningful way I didn’t fully understand.

  “Naomi,” I said roughly.

  Her name fell between us for the second time, but there was a charge to it that hadn’t been there in the clubhouse. I decided it was because we were alone, the two of us sitting in this car that meant so much to me while the rest of the world went on without us. But that wasn’t it either, not completely.

  There was something in the way I said it that rang clear and strong like a bell.

  An acknowledgement only we shared.

  A sound only we heard.

  “I’ll go gladly.” I put my other hand on the wheel so I wouldn’t be quite as tempted to snatch her towards me. Then I leaned in her direction.

  Eyes that, after today, would always remind me of sunrise breaking over a spot in the trees I held dear to my heart flicked up to meet mine. Naomi put her free hand against the seat below her and sat forward, bringing her face and those fucking lips of hers closer by the heartbeat and still too slow.

  Control, I said in my head when a low rumble started in my chest.

  When the blood in my veins started to boil.

  When the arousal tenting my jeans strained against the fabric.

  But control could go fuck itself and I would find it when I was done.

  I reached out and caught the back of her neck, hauling her to me because I was so fucking over distance where she was concerned.

  Naomi made a precious, squeaking noise that I interrupted by sealing my lips against hers in a kiss that contained not even an ounce of my patience from the night before.

  How I managed to resist as much as I had was surely the tenth wonder of the world. Because the feel of her silky hair spreading across my fingers while our mouths moved together was impossible to duplicate. Thrilling beyond belief.

  I gripped her neck tighter and she moaned into my mouth, lips parting. I didn’t need a better invitation than that. My tongue swept inside, greedy for her taste. And when I found it, I wasn’t sated in the least.

  I needed more.

  More.

  “More,” I rasped against her lips, hardly recognizing my own voice. Naomi was a bundle of sweetness I couldn't get enough of. I kissed her harder, my whole body tense with need.

  Her hand found its way to my chest, and I had all of a moment to wonder if she was about to come to her senses like she should have already. If she was about to push me off and never come around again. Except her tiny fist only curled against my shirt, stretching it out as she pulled me closer.

  Then she was kissing me again. Sucking on my bottom lip. Letting the fingertips of her other hand slip through my beard in a sensual caress that had my whole body lifting from the seat to try and get closer to her.

  I couldn't take it anymore.

  I buried my face in her neck, tracing my teeth down the smooth column of her throat while I wrapped an arm around her waist and sat back, taking her with me.

  Her eyes widened when I lifted her, then went back to this sexy, heavy-lidded gaze when I put her down in my lap, hands caging her hips.

  “Oh,” she cooed, shifting against me as she settled and felt the hard length of me rubbing against her ass through our clothes.

  Her body was so fucking hot for me I couldn't help but press my hips up between hers, wishing we were both naked so I could slide straight into her.

  Naomi snuck her hands beneath my shirt, sweeping them over my tense abs and up to my chest. I groaned at the contact and threw my head back, eyes closing. When I opened them again and looked up at her, there was hunger written all over her face.

  Hunger only I could ease.

  Her hoodie was bunched around her waist, and I grabbed the sides, starting to lift.

  A strip of tanned skin came into view and I brushed my thumb over her waist, loving the way she shivered at my touch. And then I heard a familiar sound that gave me pause.

  Her wrist was buzzing.

  “Crap,” she breathed, freeing her hands from beneath my shirt to look at the face of her watch.

  Briefly, I wondered why she seemed to have such random alarms set. She was living alone, and without any pets as far as I knew. But whatever it represented, I could see her starting to close herself off to me.

  I hid my disappointment behind a quick flash of a grin.

  Yeah, she was on my lap, but the heat in her eyes was already cooling, and she felt a hundred miles away. A piece of the old me woke up and stretched sheathed talons as Naomi leaned back, putting some distance between us.

  Damn the consequences. I wanted to break whatever or whoever was putting that guarded look on her face and taking her from me.

  “Guess this is good night?” I asked, not concealing the riot o
f my own emotions well enough if the slight frown she shot me was anything to go by.

  She looked at her watch. Looked at me. And what she did next blew my mind so completely I wondered how the roof overhead didn’t explode.

  Naomi placed a chaste kiss to my lips and grabbed my hand, interlocking our fingers. “Not yet,” she said quietly, eyes softening again when they met mine. Her lips curved. “I’ve got time. Tell me about some of the places your grandad took you.”

  See?

  Mind. Fucking. Blown.

  I smiled.

  And smiled.

  And smiled.

  Until the muscles around my cheeks pulled uncomfortably, a sensation I hadn’t known for five long years.

  “Well,” I started, still smiling. “They say all the best stories start with a strip club.”

  “No one says that.”

  I raised a brow, squeezing her hand in mine. “Am I telling this story, or are you?” When her eyes rolled, lips curving, I chuckled. “That’s what I thought. So, there we were, up in the mountains, trying to avoid a very persistent sheriff…”

  Chapter Twelve

  Naomi

  Way to freaking go, my back complained, shooting a fresh round of stinging pain up my spine to go along with a healthy dose of admonishment while I rested against a shelf in the back room.

  There was a possibility that rested was the wrong word to choose. I was catching my breath. Giving my body a break.

  And I may or may not have been hiding from the eager customers on the other side of the wall.

  Yeah.

  I was full of it.

  I was totally and completely hiding my butt off.

  In my infinite wisdom, I’d chalked up yesterday's rush to first day hype set in motion by an unfairly handsome face.

  "No way that many people will show up again," I said in a low voice, mocking myself.

  Because I was so certain I wasn't going to be bum rushed within five minutes of opening, I hadn't bothered to try and lock Lynn into helping. The joke was on me. The egg was on my face. Something, something, I was a dummy.

  You get the point.

  Now, Lynn wasn’t answering and there were thirsty folks with pitchforks and torches chanting at the register, demanding a sacrifice be made to the god of parched throats.

  Sure, the usual mob implements were missing, and no one was trying to cut out my heart, but I hadn’t been able to stop moving and mixing and blending for nearly three hours and I was this close to having a complete meltdown.

  I hadn’t even made a good excuse before dashing back here.

  I’d glanced at the line, seen it stretching to infinity, and decided it was better to look away from the void before it devoured my soul.

  Then, I’d muttered something about checking inventory before the next customer rattled off their order.

  That was at least three minutes ago.

  At some point, I was going to have to face the music and the doom that was my physical fitness. I know I made a big stink with Law and Dad about not wanting any help or advice. But someone could’ve told me to invest in a gym membership to go along with the other amenities I was paying for.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to prep myself for this moment of peace coming to an end.

  “You’ve got this,” I said quietly, ignoring the blisters on my fingers. “Get out there and blend, girl. You’re a businesswoman now, do what it takes.”

  A second wind began to fill my limbs and I stood upright, rolling my head around on my neck.

  Stay on the path.

  You’ve got this.

  Then the front door chimed again, and I withered like a plant gone too long without sunlight.

  “Be right with you!” I called out, even as I slid to the floor and put my head in my hands.

  I wasn’t going to cry. This wasn’t that type of meltdown. But I was considering forcing myself to yawn enough times to where it looked like I was crying. They would probably leave if I looked super emotional.

  No one was immune to the awkward discomfort of watching a stranger cry into their smoothie.

  The door to the back room rattled and opened, and I was too shocked that someone had the gall to come back here to get up from the floor.

  Eyes wide, heart kicking me in the ribs at the thought of confrontation, I stared unblinking at the door as a pair of black boots and dark-washed jeans appeared, followed by the smell of fresh pine.

  My gaze tracked upwards, and my heart beat faster still as I took in the towering figure smoothly closing the door behind him and shooting me one of those camera flash smiles that made my stomach flutter.

  “Rough morning?” Tone raised a dark brow while chocolate eyes danced.

  He was being intrusive again, and I didn’t give a damn.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever been as glad to see anyone in my life as I was upon seeing him in that moment. It had nothing to do with how edible he looked in his tight, gray, V-neck sweater that flaunted miles of rich, muscled skin. It also had nothing to do with the black baseball hat pulled low on his face, giving him a sort of untouchable swagger he was rocking the hell out of.

  Nope. Had nothing to do with those things at all.

  So what if the sight of him made heat flare, pooling between my legs?

  That was a completely natural response given recent circumstances.

  And by circumstances, I meant the whole I sat on his lap and tried to suck his face off less than twenty-four hours ago thing.

  Or maybe the customers weren't the only ones who were thirsty this morning.

  “I need your help,” I blurted before I wound up staring at him longer than was appropriate. Which was easy to do. He'd held my interest when he was a mystery. After revealing a piece of his past to me?

  If my thoughts had a ranking system, he would be at the top.

  A great place for him, actually. On top of me. Moving over me. Those huge hands tracing down my body with intent while he-

  “So you do know how to ask,” said the man who had walked me back home after we talked for hours in his garage, keeping my hand in his.

  It should've been a ridiculous gesture, maybe even borderline offensive. We lived next door to each other. He could’ve easily watched me make my way inside from his garage. Except he refused to let me out of his sight until I was safely in the house.

  He offered me a hand up and I took it, breath catching at the spark that left my fingers tingling as they gripped his.

  Ignoring the sensation, I narrowed my eyes. “Don't expect a repeat anytime soon. I can't let you start thinking you might actually be useful.”

  His laugh was like luxurious bubbles popping against my skin, and a fresh wave of heat sliced through me.

  Tone waited for me to set my feet before he pulled, bringing me to a standing position as easily as lifting a feather. Then he pulled again, and crashing into a mountain would've had more give than the muscled planes of his chest and the six pack I hadn't been lucky enough to see exposed yet.

  Yet?

  “Good morning, Smoothie Girl,” he rumbled, descending towards me. I stood on my toes, meeting him halfway.

  Within the span of a single thudding heartbeat, a sensible voice spoke up. Reminding me that I had no idea what we were doing or what this meant. Then he captured my chin, bringing our lips together, and I didn't care about anything but the feel of him against me.

  Our first kiss was inevitable.

  Our second was hungry.

  This one?

  Tone kissed me like he hadn't seen me in days instead of hours, reacquainting himself with my mouth one delicious, velvety brush at a time.

  His beard teased my skin, and I held onto his waist while jelly replaced the bones in my legs. His tongue slid along the seam of my lips and I knew that if he dropped his hand into my leggings he would find me soaking.

  This man might not have the attitude I’d figured would come with his occupation, but he was only more dangerous because of that.


  Dangerous to my heart, especially.

  He kissed me like I was already his, and for the life of me I couldn't remember why that was a bad idea.

  “Good morning to you too,” I said breathlessly when we both pulled away from the edge of the inferno. My tongue darted out of its own accord, drawing in the remnants of his taste. The grunt he released had me smirking.

  “Everything okay back there?” Someone hollered, reminding me I was supposed to be working instead of teasing the man in front of me.

  “Put me to work,” Tone offered.

  “Here.” I grabbed an apron from a shelf and tossed it towards him. “Put this on and get ready to step onto the battlefield.”

  Tone tied the apron around his waist, and instead of blunting the edges of his masculinity, it enhanced it. Forearms crafted from brick and mortar gave the ends one last tug.

  I was torn between swooning and picturing him in nothing else.

  Turning before my blush became more apparent, I made my way back out front, head held high, expecting to be met with a wall of impatience.

  Instead, a couple college-aged guys waiting at the counter cheered, and it was so ridiculous I wasn't even upset when one whistled.

  That sound died a quick death when Tone appeared and stood at my shoulder. Their grins turned tight, forced. I wanted to know what kind of face he was making, but turning to look up at him would've been too obvious.

  His shoulder brushed mine. “Y'all aren’t giving my girl a hard time, right?”

  His girl?

  Don't overthink it, I told the happy flutter in my chest. It was probably a figure of speech.

  My heart needed new ears. It wasn't listening.

  “Course not,” one of the guys said, chuckling nervously.

  “That's what I like to hear.”

  Tone extended his fist across the counter and I swear the college kid's face lit up. Seriously, he glowed. After they did their guy thing, he stared at his fist in awe.

  “Bro,” the other one whispered in a voice that wasn't quiet in the least. “Did that just happen?”

  I gave in, glancing at Tone over my shoulder. He looked surprisingly not smug. As if this was a usual occurrence for him. Maybe it was. I hadn't forgotten he was the reason most of these people were here.

 

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