Hot as Sin (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Katherine Lace

  “No, no, no. You misunderstood me, sir. We have a strict dress code. That means heels or flats, absolutely no sneakers.”

  The feigned confusion wrinkling Austin’s face is priceless. “I don’t get it. You said no sneakers. She’s taking them off. What’s the problem?”

  “I—are you serious?”

  An edge creeps into Austin’s voice. “Yeah, I am.”

  I turn my head into his arm to hide my face, laughing into his suit.

  Suddenly, a man with slicked-back hair and a squeaky clean suit appears at my elbow. “Is there a problem, Mr. Sherwood?”

  “I dunno. You better ask him.”

  “Sir, I was just telling Mr. Sherwood about the dress code.”

  The maître d smiles at Austin as though they’re old friends and waves off the waiter’s beet-red face. “It’s not a problem. Come, Mr. Sherwood. We have a table waiting for you.”

  Austin lets out a small chuckle. I feel it through his side as he leads me past the infuriated waiter toward our table. The maître d pulls back my seat with a courteous smile, showing no sign that he gives a shit that I’m wearing gym clothes. Austin smooths his suit before sitting down, looking at ease.

  “I never knew you were such a sadist. Seriously, that guy is going to make a voodoo doll of you.”

  A smile staggers over his broad face. “Nah. That was just a little bit of harmless fun.”

  “His head looked like it was going to explode.”

  “I don’t really give a shit, to be honest. You’re classy as fuck in your gym clothes.”

  I snort, looking around. Everyone’s dressed in formal attire. “Gym clothes don’t belong in this restaurant.”

  “I agree. You should just take them off.”

  He smirks as I lean across the table. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Babe, I can guaran-fucking-tee you half the men in the restaurant would love the sight of you naked.”

  I roll my eyes at him. Yeah, and then they’d call the cops. “I can’t believe your star power got me inside here. I know you’re famous and all, but damn.”

  “All I have to do is write one hundred and forty characters about how I was mistreated at a restaurant, and my fans would be lined up outside with egg cartons within five minutes. I wouldn’t do that, but I could. My tweets are like lightning bolts from the sky. With great power comes great responsibility.”

  I laugh. “Did you just quote Spider-man at me?”

  “It’s a badass quote.”

  I settle into my chair, grabbing the menu. Scanning the list of mostly unintelligible food items, I zero in on the few I understand: locally sourced filet mignon and a flight of house-made cheeses. The steak arrives on a bed of chive mashed potatoes and a rich wine gravy. The filet practically falls apart when I look at it. Austin tops off our wine glasses and smiles at me as I cut off another slice of steak.

  The alcohol seeps through my veins, into my muscles. I feel them loosening. Warmth pounds in my chest when he gives me a smile. I didn’t expect to like him so much—to actually be interested in what he has to say.

  “What’s it like being famous?”

  He takes a sip of wine and savors it as though mulling over my question. “Mostly it’s isolating.”

  “What? You’re surrounded by people all the time.”

  “People who worship me. People who want a piece of me. They think I’m a football god.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “I’m not a god,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “I’m just talented. Being a football player isn’t my identity.”

  No, it’s not.

  He frowns. “Honestly, I would give anything just to have normal interactions with people again.” Then his gaze turns, fixing on me. “Like this.”

  My blood simmers just beneath my skin as he looks at me as though I’m wearing nothing but a thong. I’ve never had a man really make me believe that I was beautiful.

  “You like that okay, darlin’?”

  A bit of a Southern drawl creeps into his voice. He must realize I’ve noticed, because he suddenly looks away, and I swear his cheeks have gone rosy-pink. Is he blushing? Yes, I do believe he is.

  “Ah do believe you’re not from around here, sir.” I add a teasing grin to the words.

  “I should have known better than to have another glass of wine.” Now that he’s paying attention, that drawl has slid back out of his voice—mostly.

  “You always go Deep South when you drink?” I’m still trying to make it light, teasing. I don’t want to upset him, but I have to admit I’m curious.

  “I try not to. I’ve worked really hard to ditch that accent.”

  “Really? Where are you from?” It occurs to me I’ve never seen or heard him mention his background. Not even in the interviews I’ve read.

  “I don’t like to say, but since you busted me…” He pauses. “Savannah, Georgia.”

  “Oh, wow. I never would have guessed. Look, if it bothers you…”

  He shakes his head. “It’s fine. It’s just that my family’s always been pretty private. They’re blue-collar people, you know? They wanted me to succeed, but I always promised them I’d make sure they wouldn’t have to deal with a lot of shit if I ever got really famous or anything.”

  “And now you are.”

  “I guess. So I keep it quiet. I mean, there are a lot of misconceptions about the South and the people there. They’re good people. My family’s good people.”

  The sincerity in his tone makes his drawl come back, and he stops talking for a second. “We’re not stupid, we’re not uneducated, and we’re not white trash, you know?”

  I reach across the table to touch the back of his hand. “I never thought you were.”

  “You thought I was stupid because I was a football player. What else might you have thought if I sounded different?”

  I’m quiet for a second; I don’t know how to respond to that. Honestly, I think his drawl is sexy when he lets it loose. But I already jumped to a ton of conclusions about him at the beginning, so how can I be sure I wouldn’t have been unfair about this, too?

  “Fair enough.” It’s hard for me to say—hard for me to admit I let my prejudices get the better of me. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. It’s fine. You had a reason for that. But with my family… I can’t take somebody like you home to them and risk having you think they’re stupid, or, worse, making them feel dumb. It’s happened before. More than once.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. Besides, why would you take me home to meet your family? We’re not even dating. I’m just your ‘Doc.’”

  That elicits a snort of laughter. “Shit, we might as well be dating. I’ve spent more time with you than I have any other woman I’ve ever met. When you call or text, I pretty much drop everything to see what you want. And we’ve fucked each other nine ways to Sunday. How is that not dating?”

  Now I feel my face going red. “Well…”

  He starts talking again before I can summon any more, and at the same time he turns his hand over under mine, tangling our fingers. “Besides. I like you. A lot.”

  Wow. I can’t believe he just said that. It’s not the L-word, but it’s an L-word, and it feels like he’s shifted our relationship into a higher gear.

  Relationship? What the fuck, Chloe?

  It’s a relationship. It’s a doctor-patient relationship.

  You keep telling yourself that.

  Sometimes I hate my brain. Then I hear my mouth talking, and again I wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

  “I like you, too.”

  “I know.” He grins like Han Solo. Leaning over the table, he kisses me. The warmth I’ve been beating down blazes across my cheeks the moment his lips touch mine. I kiss him back, throttling back my desire even though I want to leap over this table.

  His lips move against mine. “Let’s go to my place.”

  I take about a half second to consider, but I know the
re’s no fighting it.

  Not tonight.

  Unlike last time I was at Austin’s place, it’s not quiet outside his big house. Instead there’s a small gaggle of paparazzi that somehow managed to get past the gates out front.

  “Get down if you don’t want them to see you,” Austin tells me as we approach the house.

  I slide down so my head doesn’t show through the passenger-side window. They come so close to the car, though, that I can’t help but think at least one of them must get a glimpse. Fortunately, I’ve got my head down and covered, so they won’t be able to see my face. I’m not sure why I’m worried—I’m going to get fired as soon as Dr. Richards hears from that ass-clown, Roger, anyway.

  Once Austin closes the garage door behind the car, we’re walled off again, and I straighten.

  “God, how do you deal with this?” I push my hair back from my face, trying to comb it back into some semblance of order.

  “It’s an occasional thing. I’m a story right now because the team’s doing well and because I’m hurt. It’ll ease off at the end of the season.”

  “Not if you win the championship.”

  He gives me a toothy grin. “Not if. When.”

  With a chuckle, I open my own door and step out. Austin comes around the front of the car to loop an arm around my waist, draw me close, and kiss me. It’s a soft kiss at first, but then he dives deep, pressing my mouth open. His other hand slides down my back, curves in the line of my waist, and then cups my ass. His fingertips are almost in my pussy; he’s clutching me so close.

  We break apart, and he’s as short of breath as I am, which is gratifying to me. I like seeing that I have as strong an effect on him as he does on me. It’s fucking hot.

  “We should go inside. I don’t think it’d be too comfortable fucking out here.”

  “Who says we’re fucking?”

  He just laughs as he opens the door, because we both know damn well what’s going to happen once we get inside.

  Closing the door behind him, he swings me into his arms and starts kissing me, pushing me back against the door behind me. Then he scoops me up and, mouth still seeking mine, carries me across the living room, up the stairs toward his bedroom.

  I expect him to drop me onto the bed, but he goes right past it, heading instead to the floor-to-ceiling curtains on the far wall. Somehow he tosses the curtain back without letting me go and even manages to open the sliding glass door behind them. I grab onto his neck even though I don’t feel like he’s going to drop me. That easy strength, the way he supports me with one arm and part of my weight on one biceps, is such a turn-on. I’m melting already, and he’s done little more than kiss me.

  Chilly air snakes past the curtains, as well as the sound of voices. I freeze in his arms, peering ahead to see where we’re going. He steps through the open door onto a wide balcony. The voices are rising from below it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask in a whisper, my voice as quiet as I can make it but also hissing at him in disbelief.

  Surely he doesn’t want to have sex out here, right on his balcony?

  His grin is wicked. Whatever ideas are in his head right now, he’s getting off on them big time.

  “Just imagine.” His voice is low, almost inaudible. “Paparazzi wants a picture—something juicy. Something incriminating. They get nothing, and all the time we’re fucking each other’s brains out like twenty feet above them.”

  “No.” I push away from him. “No, Austin. What if they hear us?”

  “You’ll have to be super quiet.” He leans forward and nips my earlobe, whispering into my ear, “I know it’ll be hard, because I make you scream like a goddamn banshee, but I bet you can do it. I believe in you.”

  My whole body has gone hot just thinking about it. I can’t tell if it’s fear or arousal, though.

  As if seeing the doubt on my face, he leans forward to kiss me again, stroking his tongue into my mouth. One hand moves down to cup my breast, his thumb pressing into my nipple and then rolling it. He’d never be able to convince me to do this with words, but this… He keeps touching me like this and I’ll do anything he damn well wants.

  He seems to know this, his hands working me like I’m a musical instrument. By now, he knows just how to play me. He unbuttons my blouse, sliding a hand under the cup of my bra until my nipple brushes the middle of his palm. His mouth shifts from mine, moving to nip down my jaw line all the way to my chin, then across my throat. He cups my ass with one hand and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, afraid of falling. We’re a few feet from the edge of the balcony, but still, if I were to take a header over the rail and into the pack of paparazzi below, I’m pretty sure they would notice.

  Austin doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. He’s got both hands on my ass, holding me against him with that same casual strength he used to open the doors. He’s moving toward the wall now, though, and I wonder if my extra weight is tweaking his knee. I can’t keep that thought in my head for more than a couple of seconds before he sets my back against the wall. We’re very close to the edge of the balcony now, but there’s a potted plant between me and that drop into bushes and people. I can make out some of what they’re saying now. They seem to be unhappy that Austin eluded them. A couple suggest that they should leave, go find someone else to ambush, but those voices are outvoted.

  I tune them back out. Realizing there are people so close, that if they just looked up and paid some damn attention, they’d probably realize there was something going on right above their heads, has me in a place between intense anxiety and almost unbearable arousal.

  “I’m going to fuck you right in front of all these people,” Austin says suddenly in a deep voice that hits my pussy. He moves a hand to cup me between the legs. “You are insanely hot.”

  Wet, too. I can feel it soaking through my panties. I tilt my hips, rubbing myself on Austin’s hand. It’s so intense, the sensation running up and down my spine, the contact so raw it’s almost painful.

  “Want you.” My voice comes out louder than I intended, and he laughs at me voicelessly.

  “You want them to hear us,” he accuses in a whisper.

  “No…” I really don’t, but at the same time I almost do. It’s exciting, thinking that the slightest loss of control could have fifteen cameras pointed up at us. They might not be able to see us from this angle, at least not well enough to get a good picture, but they’d know we were here. Know exactly what we’re doing.

  He kisses my neck and then lays his teeth against my skin, biting gently. It’s all I can do to keep from crying out.

  “I want…” I start, and then swallow to keep my voice under control. “I want you. Right now.”

  “Then take off your clothes.”

  The rough command acts like a current through my body. He sets me down, and I hook my thumbs under the clingy fabric. Heart beating fast, I pull them down, panties dragging down my legs. The wind stings my wet pussy as they fall to the floor.

  Austin says nothing—he seems to be incapable of speaking. I watch his cock grow in his slacks as I lift the purple gym top, stripping off my sports bra. The cool night air crawls over my skin, but I don’t feel it. It’s as though there’s a hot glow emanating from Austin’s body.

  I touch the rich bump between his legs, feeling him stiffen. Then I reach for the zipper and the fly, opening it just enough to get his cock out and into my hand.

  “You see how fucking hard I am for you?”

  I wrap my fingers around him, marveling at how thick he is, and then I meet Austin’s potent gaze. Then I take a step forward, sliding his cock between my wet folds.

  He damn near growls. “I need your tight little pussy.”

  I jump back up into his arms, wrap my legs around his waist, and he moves inside me so fast it’s almost like I’ve jumped directly onto his cock.

  He lets out a low, almost groaning breath as he slides inside. My walls clench around him eagerly as I dig my nails into his
back.

  Below us, the voices suddenly stop, and I freeze.

  “Someone heard us!”

  It must have just been one of those natural lulls in conversation, because a few seconds later someone speaks again, and it’s ordinary, mundane.

  “I don’t give a shit if they hear us.”

  He thrusts hard into me, and I breathe a gasp of relief into Austin’s shoulder. My back slams hard into the wall as his cock digs into me. A small yell rips from my throat.

  Austin thrusts again, then again, until he’s fucking me against the wall, hard and fast, intense. I lean toward him and wrap my arms tighter around him, letting him hold me firmly in place as his hips slam into me. Austin buries himself so fucking deep I can feel the outline of his cock swelling inside me. It knocks the breath out of me, and just when I manage to take a breath, his lips seal against mine. We gasp for air in between thrusts, coming back to crush our lips together. His mouth separates from me, and then it’s on my tits. Wetness stings my nipple as he moves his tongue in a circle, flicking my erect nipple as I drag my nails down his back.

  Don’t scream. No matter how fucking good it feels.

  A moan shakes from my lips as he sucks me, his cock pistoning inside at the same time. He looks up, grinning. The bastard is trying to get me to make noise.

  “What are you doing?”

  Oh God, his mouth. He sucks me into his wet warmth and bites down, his thick cock throbbing inside me.

  “Sucking your beautiful tits.”

  “Austin, oh my god. You’re going to make me scream.”

  “Good.”

  No. Not good. I slide my legs off him and push his chest. He stumbles back, the grin still stretched across his face. Then I sink to my knees and grab his rock-hard cock.

  “Fuck!” Austin lets out a loud hiss as I wrap my lips around him. With him gliding in my mouth, I watch his eyes roll into his head. His breathing deepens, and when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is as hard as the cock between my lips.

  “Babe, you’re fucking perfect. Fuck me.”

  I pop him out of my mouth. “I am fucking you.”