What They Call Sin

by Philippa Grey-Gerou

  "So what are you saying?"

  "Don't make her expect too much. Give her as many happy memories as you can for her to hold on to. She's going to need them. And then get out gracefully.

  "I'll do what I can."

  "If you don't, believe me, we'll be revisiting this conversation."

  "Counting on it."

  The music ended, and all the dancers stopped and applauded. But Miss Kathleen Fallon, Esquire never took her eyes off of him. Finally, she winked at him. “Yeah, she could definitely do worse.” And the woman sashayed off in search of a new partner.

  He watched her, amused and a little intimidated. The sobriquet of “esquire” wasn't gender appropriate, but seemed to suit her anyway. She was the sort to rule supreme over any domain she found herself in. It was comforting to know she was looking out for Lindy, and that she had some inkling that Gabriel was not to be trusted.

  The brunette's words still echoing in his head, he went to claim Lindy.

  Bearding Gabriel was a challenge which Rogue enjoyed immensely. The innuendo that was beyond Gabriel's comprehension made Rogue feel all smug and knowing. And he got his girl in the end.

  It was a relief to have her back in his arms. He was coming to need her presence for his own peace of mind almost too much. He felt like a better man around her, and it was a feeling he valued. He moved her about the floor expertly, showing her off to her best advantage to all who noticed them. And he was pleased to see several people were noticing. Her eyes brightened as he teased her about his conversation with Kathleen, and widened as he called her on her little games during dinner. He reveled in the friction of her round curves against him and of her playfulness against his heart.

  The music ended, but he didn't let her go. “There's something I've been meaning to ask you all night.” He stood far too close to her, his mouth almost on her ear.

  "Yes?"

  "Which of the pretty knickers did you decide to wear tonight?"

  Her innocent look belied her words. “Why, none of them."

  "None?” She couldn't mean that the way it sounded.

  "Not. A single. Thing. Thanks for the dance.” And she was gone.

  By the time Rogue could move, Lindy had returned to Gabriel's side. But he saw her glance back in his direction, gauging his reaction. Minx.

  She was right to run. If he still had his hands on her after a confession like that, nothing would keep him from finding the nearest dark corner to investigate her assertion.

  He moved off the floor and out of the way of the next dance, struggling to get control of himself back, blocking out images of her beautiful quim and soft, round ass hidden in the folds of her full skirt. Or how that same skirt would look flipped up over her back as he indulged himself in the riches of her body.

  She may have escaped him for now, but she definitely hadn't heard the last from him on the subject.

  That song ended, and Rogue's eyes narrowed as he watched Gabriel bestow Lindy's hand on another worthy. Worthy by Gabriel's standards. How it must have killed him to have to let Rogue dance with her. But he couldn't have refused without looking bad in the eyes of his companions. It had been worth crawling to him to watch him twist.

  He snagged a glass of champagne off a passing tray and leaned back to watch her dance with another man. She caught sight of him watching her and winked.

  She was a wonder. An enticing, arousing, inspiring wonder of a woman. And when he got his hands on her...

  But she seemed to know he was stalking her. As soon as a dance ended, she made straight back for the relative safety of Gabriel, if she wasn't immediately taken over by another dance partner. If she was dancing and saw him move towards her to cut in, she would make her excuses and disappear, leaving Rogue with a Cheshire smile and nothing more. Once he saw her talking conspiratorially with Kathleen. He didn't have to be subtle with the brunette, but Kath had turned the tables on him, trapping him to introduce him to her date while Lindy stole away.

  Her avoidance was frustrating him more than his lust for her was. She kept slipping through his fingers like an endless nightmare of pursuit where you never caught your quarry. And she was laughing about it.

  His opportunity finally came when he saw her disappear down the hall to the restroom. He followed, stopping around the corner from the line that invariably formed. He hid there, waiting for her. When his hand locked around her forearm, she yelped and struggled, but he refused to let her go. “Play time is over, pet,” he growled at her.

  He led her further down the hall away from the party to randomly open a door and cast her inside. He followed her, closing and locking the door behind him.

  "Show me,” he said flatly.

  "Show you what?” Her flushed face and rapid breathing told him she knew exactly what.

  "Show me what you have on under your dress."

  "I told you, nothing."

  He stepped closer to her, but not too close. “Which is precisely why I want to see it."

  Her chin went up. “It's nothing you haven't seen every day for the last two weeks."

  "Lindy,” his voice became menacing, “if you want to have a dress left to go home in, you will show me right now before I go looking for myself."

  Her eyes brightened at his words. “Oh, all right,” she capitulated, but he could hear the anticipation behind her sullen words. She bent one hand up behind her back, and he heard the teeth of the zipper give way ahead of the slide. She kept her eyes on him the whole time. With an indrawn breath, she shrugged her shoulders and shimmied her torso, allowing the creation of velvet and silk to plunge to the floor, leaving her bare to his eyes except for the diamond necklace, a red lace garter belt, the red silk keyhole stockings she had purchased at the boutique, and a pair of black velvet pumps. She stood there, proud but with a soft blush covering her skin. “Well?"

  He studied her critically for long moments, watching her blush intensify. She was shameless about coming to him anytime, anywhere, driven by her need or his. But somehow she still was embarrassed by her own nudity. At least until the first orgasm or two. It was at once endearing and alluring, the very essence of her attraction.

  "You are the most incredible thing I've ever seen. Ever held, ever touched.” He reached up to drag his knuckles down the slope of her breast. “And it was very wrong of you to tease me so."

  "I know,” she admitted, her breath catching at his touch. “I couldn't help it. It was just too tempting.” She loosened the knot on his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt studs.

  "Just like you.” He cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her, her mouth rich with champagne and desire.

  "May I make it up to you?” she asked, her gentle fingers working the button on his pants.

  "Absolutely."

  She leaned forward, kissing him sweetly before sliding her bare body down along his as she dropped to her knees at his feet.

  Her breath preceded the warm, wet slide of her tongue, and he was hard pressed not to knot his fingers in her hair. Instead, he rested one hand on her head and one on her shoulder, balancing himself as she licked and kissed and nipped her way up and down his shaft. “God, Lindy,” he groaned, “you have the most sinful mouth."

  She looked up at him with a smile in her eyes as she slid the flat of her tongue up along the underside of his cock. Then, her eyes never leaving his, she circled the brilliant red of her perfect mouth and engulfed him.

  "Lindy!” This time his fingers did close, gripping her head tightly as she sucked him deep into the recesses of her mouth and released him to repeat the motion, her tongue still working him eagerly as she rose and fell.

  He felt like a god being worshiped by his high priestess, a priest being distinguished by his goddess. Every time she touched him was a gift, and he was honored and humbled and grateful. He so wanted to be worthy of her.

  He felt the familiar hot tightening in his belly and regretfully pulled back, drawing her back to her feet to plunder her mouth as he backed her up against t
he bed. He pushed her gently and she fell onto the mattress, her legs still dangling. She started to pull herself further back, but he rested a hand on her pelvis, stopping her. “My turn."

  He knelt between her silk covered thighs and breathed deeply of her arousal. He kicked off his shoes and pants as he bent his head to nip lightly at the bare skin above her stockings on the inside of her thighs, making her gasp. The sound drove him on to place open-mouthed kisses around her mound as he draped her legs over his shoulders.

  "Michael, please!"

  The sound of his name on her lips, so high and desperate, was almost more than he could bear. He plunged into her, his tongue mobile and quick against her quivering flesh.

  She screamed into the crook of her arm, her hips pulsing against his face as her legs locked him in place. He worshipped her with his mouth to the chorus of her ecstasy, every gasp, every whimper, every sob a reward.

  Finally the taste, the smell, the sound of her became too overwhelming, and he forced her legs down to allow him to stand. She wrapped them instantly around his waist, drawing him closer.

  "Need you, pet,” he begged, his voice harsh and deep. “Need to be inside you. Need to be a part of you."

  She moved back on the bed, making room for him, and held out her arms to him. He knelt before her, and she tangled her ankles behind his ass, guiding him as he led his thick cock to her tender opening.

  He moaned as her pillowy warmth enfolded him, and she echoed with a whimpering, needy mewl that made his eyes water. “Don't you worry, love, I've got what you need. Take good care of you, I will."

  "Oh god, Michael, yes. I need you so much.” Her whole body arched against him as he began moving in her.

  "'m right here. Gonna make everything right by you."

  The smooth roundness of her heels massaged up and down along the backs of his thighs as he rose and fell over her, their speed quickening, strengthening. The friction of her pliant walls on the taut skin of his cock as he pushed and pulled was almost unbearable.

  "That's it, my sweet girl. You can take it. Strong, beautiful, amazing Lindy."

  "More,” she demanded. “Oh god, Michael, please more!"

  His hands slipped under her to lift her ass, changing his angle and transposing her demands into wordless wails that he captured in his mouth as the knot in his belly tightened. She began trembling and then heaving beneath him, her radiant eyes wide and unseeing as release took her. His own climax surged over him, and he snarled as he sank into her one last time.

  They supported each other as they came back down, their erratic breath heavy on each other's face. Finally he moved off her to flop onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms.

  She rested comfortably on his shoulder, her hand in the middle of his chest. “You know,” she said after long moments, “we might want to rethink public sex."

  "Yeah? Thought you liked it.” He dropped a kiss on her tangled curls.

  "I do.” She looked up at him. “But I like getting to cuddle afterwards better."

  He pulled her back down. “We've been gone this long, a few more minutes won't hurt."

  She nestled back down, and for a few minutes he could pretend that she was truly his, that in a few minutes he wouldn't have to return her to someone he despised. He could just love her and be at peace.

  But eventually she moved away, slipping out of the bed to look at herself in the mirror. “Eek!” She tried to rearrange her hair without success. “And me without my purse.” He watched her pad into the connecting bathroom, studying the chain of openings running up the back of each leg and imagining spending an hour sucking small bruises into the center of each one.

  She came back a moment later with a hairbrush and a concerned look.

  "What is it, pet?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

  "I think we just had sex in your boss's bed."

  "Yeah?” He looked around, for the first time taking in the details of the room. While tidy, it definitely contained the clutter of daily living. “Huh."

  "You don't sound too concerned.” She began fixing her hair.

  He took the brush from her and carefully dressed her hair. “He's not my boss,” he said casually, closing the silver clip back into her now neat curls.

  She chuckled, then turned to button his shirt. “He is right now. You don't think he'd have something to say, catching you in here like this? And with another man's wife?"

  "Let him.” He pulled her close and kissed her hard. “You're worth the risk."

  Chapter 25

  "The returns for this division are dependent almost entirely on how well this tax structure works,” Jonathan argued.

  Gabriel shot back, “Then it doesn't look like a very useful division, does it? This is a critical entity in supporting all the legal points of the diversification. You have to make it look like more than just an empty holding company."

  "Isn't it?"

  "But no one should know that but us."

  Rogue leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. They had been at it for hours, the two lawyers and the clutch of consultants putting the final shape to the Robartsmaan diversification plan. It was tedious and frustrating. He zoned out, largely ignoring the proceedings.

  The cell phone in his pocket vibrated fiercely, rousing him. He pulled it out and flipped it open. “Fitzwilliam."

  "You sound so professional when you answer the phone like that,” Lindy's soft voice said.

  He hid his instant smile and rose from the table to move to the back of the conference room away from prying ears. “That's because I didn't know who was on the other end. Hey you."

  "Hey yourself.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Busy?"

  "Just a bit. Team meeting. But I always have time for you."

  "Mmm, that sounds nice. I could use a little attention right now."

  "Oh yeah?” He looked back to the team, who were busily arguing over a series of pie graphs. “Something bothering you?"

  "You could say that. I've been down here in the studio all morning painting you, shaping you, touching every part of you with my brush, and it's gotten me desperate for the real thing."

  He groaned in sympathy. “Wish I could come scratch that for you, but I can't..."

  "I can't capture the taste of your skin on canvas,” she interrupted him. “I love the taste of your skin. You taste all salty and clean on my tongue."

  "Pet, now really isn't..."

  She was relentless. “My favorite spot is that hollow place at the base of your throat, right where you collarbone comes across. It's so sensitive when I run my tongue over it."

  He lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “Lindy,” he warned, begged her.

  "Actually, come to think of it, that's only my second favorite. My favorite spot is the muscles going up and down on either side of your stomach. When I lick those, I can feel your cock twitch against the base of my throat.” Her voice became deep and breathless.

  "Are you trying to do to me what I think you are?” he growled into the mouthpiece, watching the men around him for any sign of notice. “Because if you are, it's working."

  "I certainly hope so,” she responded. “I'd hate to think I was the only one turned on enough to have to touch myself."

  The image of her lying on her back on the battered leather couch in her studio, jeans around her knees and her supple hand working between her legs was enough to break him.

  Without covering the phone, he addressed the room. “Gentlemen, excuse me. I have to take this call. I'll be a few minutes, so please go on without me."

  The consultants all looked to Gabriel, who shrugged and went back to the charting debate.

  As soon as he closed the conference room door behind him, he put the phone back up to his ear. “Darlin', you are so gonna pay for this later."

  She snickered. “And yet somehow I don't find that to be any kind of a deterrent whatsoever. Don't forget to lock your door this time."

  He closed his of
fice door behind him and shot the deadbolt. “When I get my hands on you..."

  "Worry about getting your hands on yourself for now."

  He dropped into his desk chair and pivoted it to prop his feet up on the credenza behind the desk. Opening his slacks, he drew himself out with a quiet moan.

  "How does it feel?” Lindy asked huskily.

  "Like hot steel,” he said, his rough palm jerking lightly across the dry, tight skin of his shaft.

  "I bet it feels good,” she said wistfully. “I want to touch it."

  "I want you to, too.” He leaned his head back, closing his eyes to enjoy the friction of his hand and the image of her in his head. “Take off your shirt."

  She gave a soft gasp, and then he heard the phone knock around for a moment before her voice returned. “All gone."

  "God, Lindy, I want to touch your breasts so badly. Wanna feel how soft and firm they are under my hands. How warm and tender they are in my mouth."

  "Oh!” Her gentle sigh went right through him, and he gripped himself more firmly. “I love the feel of you against my skin,” she breathed. “You're hard and soft at the same time, and always so warm."

  "You're so soft,” he replied, “always so soft. I just want to sink into you and never come out."

  "Michael,” her sigh became a soft moan.

  "Say my name again,” he demanded, the dry friction building up tension within him.

  "God, Michael!” He could hear her breathing, ragged and fast. “I love the way you make me feel. Knowing you, being with you, it's like you've woken something up in me."

  "Don't feel right without you, Lindy.” His words came out in a soft snarl. “You make me whole again, love."

  "I'm so close! Michael, oh god, Michael..."

  "That's it, Lindy love. Just let it go. Want to hear you so bad.” His shaft was starting to slick with his precum, and he pulled faster, stroking in time to his erratic breathing.

  "Unh ... ah ... oh god Michael, want you!"

  "Got you, love. Give it to me. Come on sweet, come for your Michael!"

  "Mine! Oh ... oh oh god mine! MICHAEL!"