Hot as Sin (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Katherine Lace

  I’m going to fuck your brains out, honey.

  She tips her chin up, looking at me a bit more squarely. “People are watching,” she says almost without moving her lips.

  “I don’t care,” I answer.

  “I could get into a lot of trouble if you do anything inappropriate right now, in front of everybody.”

  “Then we should go somewhere else.”

  “What will everybody think?”

  It seems this question actually concerns her. I personally couldn’t give a flying fuck.

  “I told your boss I needed you to work on my back, so they’ll probably think you’re working on my back.”

  Her eyes widen. “You talked to my boss?”

  “Couldn’t help it.” I lay a hand on her arm then suddenly grab her, pushing her against the wall behind us, and kiss her so hard I can taste the bruises. Her fingers dig into my arms, nails biting with sharp tingles of pain.

  I draw back and bite her lip. God, I don’t think I can wait another second.

  But this isn’t the place. “Let’s go,” I tell her. “I’ve got a special spot in mind.”

  The club level might be nice, but the VIP section is even better. I’m not supposed to be able to get into it, but I have a key.

  “Where did you get that?” Chloe asks.

  “Security guard.” I slide the key into the lock. Good. They haven’t changed them since the last time I was here. “I got him some fifty-yard-line tickets and he gave me this key.”

  “Nice.”

  “Very nice.”

  And indeed it is. This is where local celebrities sit when they come to watch the games—actors, rock stars, politicians—I think the president even sat here once when he dropped in to relax with a little football. There’s usually food, booze—all the amenities, but tonight it’s dark and empty.

  I set the champagne glasses down on one of the tables and move toward Chloe. There’s not a lot of light, but it’s enough to see the gleam in her eyes. I reach out to her and she takes my hand so I can pull her closer.

  “Show me,” I tell her.

  My dick’s on high alert, throbbing painfully behind my zipper. I want inside her so badly I’m afraid my head might explode if I don’t manage that in about the next five minutes.

  “Show you what?”

  She seems genuinely puzzled, so I reach for her blouse and unbutton a couple of buttons, not being gentle about it.

  The eyeblack is smeared a little, but it’s still there, boldly outlining my jersey number across the pale skin of her breasts.

  “God,” I tell her. “That is hot as fuck. Like you’re mine.”

  I bend to kiss the tops of her breasts, then bite them, nibbling on her collarbones. She squirms, grabbing at my head, but she doesn’t push me away. I pull her shirt the rest of the way off, then her bra, leaving her bare from the waist up in front of me.

  “I want you,” I tell her. “I want you now.”

  She nods, her pupils already blown with desire. I kiss her hard, then pick her up and carry her to the other side of the room, where a wide window overlooks the football field. There are a few people down there who’ve probably wandered out from the party, and the lights are up.

  “You think they can see us from down there?” I ask her.

  “I don’t know. Maybe?” She turns around and presses her mouth to mine, her tongue exploring. When she draws back, she adds, “Do I give a fuck?”

  I laugh. “I hope not.” I turn her around again. “Look at them. What would they think if they looked up here and saw you standing here half naked with my mark on you?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t care.” Her voice is low and weighty. I can tell she’s every bit as horny as I am. I move up behind her, tucking my crotch against the curve of her ass, reaching around to cup her breasts. I squeeze her nipples, and she gasps.

  “Good.” I crowd up behind her until she’s right up against the glass, then pull my hands back so her tits spread out over the surface. I can imagine what it must look like from the other side—her tits, full and round, flattened against the window, her nipples hard, pressing into the softer flesh of her breasts. And above it all, my number written out in bold black.

  At this point, my fucking dick is about to explode. I jerk at my belt, the button, and zipper on my pants. Shoving pants and underwear down on my hips, I cup my swelling cock. It’s hot and wet, sticky, eager. It wants Chloe to surround it, to draw it in.

  Hang on. We’ll get to that.

  Yes, I’m having an internal conversation with my own dick. That’s how messed up I am over this woman.

  She’s wearing a skirt, at least, which makes things a little easier. I flip it up over her back and am greeted by the sight of a bright red thong. “Whoa, Doc. Did you buy this for me?”

  A smirk spreads across her face. “Maybe.”

  “You’re killing me here.”

  I draw the back of the thong aside, trying to decide if I want to bother pulling it down or if I just want to fuck her around it. As I’m moving it, my thumb traces over her asshole, and she shivers. I grin. I’ve got her just where I want her.

  Instead of taking the thong off, I keep playing with her ass with one hand, sliding a finger of the other hand farther down the thong until I find the wet heat of her pussy. She moans, the sound like music.

  With my thumb tapping her ass and two fingers shoved deep inside her, she writhes in front of me, the sounds coming from her making me want to fuck her hard and deep and fast. I hold off, though—in some ways it’s more fun to see how high I can take her before I give in.

  She’s so hot, so wet, so ready. I lean forward to bite the back of her shoulder and she keens. The movement pushes me farther into her, deeper. I add another finger and thrust into her with all three while she tips her hips back, bringing me deeper and deeper.

  “God, Austin.” I’m so glad we’re somewhere we don’t have to worry about being quiet. Fucking her on the balcony was great, but I missed her sounds, the way she moans and shudders and screams. Here, she doesn’t have to hold anything back.

  Neither do I. “I’m going to fuck you, Chloe,” I tell her. “I’m going to fuck you in your ass. You okay with that?”

  “I don’t know… Austin… Wait…”

  Ha. She’s never done that before. I’m almost triumphant at the thought I can take her somewhere nobody else ever has. I let my hand slide out of her pussy, dripping with her arousal. My fingers are slick, and I shift so that hand is toying with her ass now, wetting her, getting her ready. One finger slides in easily, helped along by the lubrication. I try another—she needs to be stretched a little more before she can take my dick.

  I take things slowly, and she doesn’t ask me to wait again. Instead she spreads her legs, bracing herself against the window and tipping her hips back so I have easier access. If I had any doubt she wanted this, it’s gone now.

  Her tits are shoved so hard against the glass I wonder if the eyeblack will come off, leaving my number etched on the window. Is anybody looking up? If they did look up, could they see anything? The thought of it makes my dick twitch, pulsing so hard I can barely stand it.

  Suddenly the tightness in her ass eases, and she just…opens around my fingers. There’s no more resistance. It’s time.

  Sliding my fingers out, I bump her with my cock, then slide the tip inside, just a little bit. She moans, and in her reflection in the glass, I can see her biting down on her lower lip. Her eyes are closed, but then she opens them again.

  “Austin…”

  “It’s okay. I’ll go slow. I won’t hurt you.”

  She nods and lowers her head again, as if focusing solely on the sensation. Good. She’s committed now. And I can be absolutely certain she’ll enjoy every second of this.

  My cock slides in a little at a time, hard enough that there’s little to no resistance. She lets out small sounds that seem like they could mean I’m hurting her, but when I stroke the back of her neck, she nods,
encouraging me to continue.

  “I’m all right. God. This is…” She trails off and bumps back toward me, bringing me deeper into her.

  “Easy,” I tell her. “It’ll be better if you give it some time.”

  She doesn’t seem too inclined to draw the experience out, though. I move slowly in and out of her, not thrusting as deeply as I could, just letting her get used to the new sensations. Every time I thrust in, she tilts back a little so I come in farther than I intend to. Every time, she lets out a throaty little breath.

  “I want to fuck you into that window,” I mutter. My hands are tight on her ass cheeks, fingers digging in so that the flesh turns white around the pressure points.

  Chloe lets out a breathy laugh. “Just don’t fuck me through the window. That’d be a little hard to explain.”

  I take it as permission and shove into her, hard. She lets out a little scream followed quickly by, “No, don’t stop, my God, don’t stop, I’m okay.”

  I take her at her word and keep fucking her. Her ass is so hot, so tight, the slick addition of her juices letting my cock slide in and out of her fast and easy. It feels amazing. Her muscles clench on me, and I’m certain she’s moving closer to the peak with every thrust.

  Finally I reach around and touch her clit. She yelps, then moans out a breath. Perfect. She’s wet and slick, and my finger slides around the firm nub in a dragging circle.

  Everything lets loose at once. She screams, her body convulsing around me. I move my fingers from her clit into her pussy, pushing deep inside so I can feel the muscles contracting. The pulse around my dick is hard, tight, almost painful. I’m in to the root by now, and as she pulses around me, I let go, too, spitting hot cum deep into her ass.

  She’s saying something, I think, but the words are so ragged and broken I can’t make them out. It’s just a torrent of random curses, maybe my name here and there, and I’m not sure what else. Her hands are clawing the window, her face against it, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

  I ride the wave of my own climax, feeling the hot spiraling sensation move up and down my spine. As she starts to ease down, I reach around her, wrapping my arm across her upper chest. She shifts back away from the window, sagging against me.

  Looking past her at the glass, I laugh. My number is clearly visible there in a mirror image where the eyeblack transferred from her skin.

  She sees it, and she also chuckles. “We’re probably going to want to clean that up.”

  “Yeah. Eventually,” I tell her, and bite the back of her neck.

  Later, we’re both draped over the VIP chairs—which are hella comfortable—Chloe in my lap and me just sprawled as much as I can get myself sprawled. I’m wrung out, and the post-sex glow has me feeling almost high. Or maybe it’s just Chloe. Her scent is an intoxicant, and I can’t get enough of it.

  I slip my fingers through her hair, letting the soft strands drift and separate. Everything about her is a sensual feast. We don’t have to fuck for me to feel fulfilled. All I have to do is be close to her.

  That’s, like, love or something. My inner voice is about as tipsy as I am. Love, though? I don’t think so.

  There are feelings. Definitely feelings.

  Okay, there are feelings. That doesn’t mean I’m in love with her.

  But it could mean I’m heading that way. Surprisingly, the thought doesn’t freak me out. Not even a little bit.

  I lean forward to kiss the top of her head. “You know… For a fling, this is a pretty damn nice one.”

  A small, satiated smile curves her mouth. “Yes. It is.”

  “Do you think maybe we could…” I trail off then, suddenly realizing what I’m about to ask her. Am I going to fast? Pushing too hard? Am I about to ruin everything?

  She turns her head, peering up at me from her relaxed position sprawled across my body. “Could what?”

  I take the jump. “Not end it. You know…after my treatment is done.”

  A small frown creases the space between her brows, but it’s a thoughtful look, not angry or anxious. “You mean…actually date?”

  “Something like that.” Again, I stroke a hand through her hair. I could sit like this all night, just enjoying her nearness. “I just don’t want to see you go so soon. I want to keep you.”

  Her smile quirks up a little higher on one side. “I want to keep you, too.”

  Relief floods me. I was afraid she’d dismiss me out of hand, deny any feelings for me. But it sounds like we’re on the same page. This is new territory for me—I’ve never liked a girl enough to have this conversation.

  I shift a little under her, adjusting so her body connects with more points on mine. I like the warm weight of her on me. I can feel her heartbeat thudding in a counter-rhythm to my own. “So…” Again, I’m hesitant to say what I want to say, but finally I push forward. “I was wondering if you might do me a huge favor.”

  “What’s that?” There’s no hesitation in her voice, no wariness.

  I draw a slow breath. This is going to be hard for me to ask, for a lot of reasons. “It’s my mom.”

  She turns to look into my face. “Your mom?”

  “Yeah. Do you remember when we ran into each other at the hospice?”

  “Sure.”

  “I wasn’t there doing charity work.”

  She frowns, then her expression shifts as she puts the pieces together. “You were visiting your mother?”

  I nod. The last piece of the puzzle falls into place, and her mouth goes round. “Oh. Austin. I’m so sorry. How bad is she?”

  “She’s not good. She’s been there for a few weeks though. Sometimes it seems like she’s getting better, but the doctors say that’s temporary. All in all, I think she’s doing better than they initially expected, but that doesn’t mean she’s not—” I break off. I can’t finish the sentence.

  She’s dying. I know it, Mom knows it. It’s just that neither of us has actually said the words.

  Chloe lays a hand on mine where my arm is draped over her shoulder. Her fingers squeeze gently.

  “Anyway,” I go on, “all she’s ever wanted is to see me with a nice girl. Somebody who makes me happy. If she could see us together, I think it would make things a little easier on her.”

  I realize what the request sounds like. Chloe could easily conclude that I’m implying she and I will be together forever, that we’ll ride off into the sunset together to achieve my mother’s dream that I be happy after she’s gone. That’s not what I’m after, though. I start talking again before Chloe can protest.

  “I’m not asking you for a commitment. I just want her to know I’m okay. That I’ll be okay.”

  Chloe’s soft voice breaks the silence. “She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

  “She’s my mom. She raised us, made sure we had clothes and food when Dad was out of work, made us feel like we could do any damn thing we wanted if we just worked hard enough. I wouldn’t be where I am if it weren’t for her.”

  Her fingers tighten on mine again. “I’d be happy to meet her, Austin. I really would.”

  Her acceptance hits me hard, right between the eyes. I swallow hard, and then I kiss her hair.

  I hate that I can’t just swing by Chloe’s house or office and pick her up, but she was right when she said we should just meet at the hospice. At this point, her being seen with me probably isn’t the best game plan. I don’t want to trash her life—I’ve come close enough to that already.

  She’s waiting for me, leaning against her car, and she doesn’t see me when I pull up and park. I take advantage of the moment to watch her. She pushes a hand through her hair and the sunlight catches it, sending bright highlights all down its length. She’s so goddamn beautiful she makes it hard to breathe for a second.

  I get out of the car then, and she turns and catches my eye. Her smile widens across her face, and I feel like somebody hit me in the chest.

  You’ve got it bad, Sherwood. Quit trying to convince yourself you don’
t.

  My little voice has a point. That’s a hell of a lot of energy I could be using more productively. Because there’s no point denying anymore that I’m into my physical therapist.

  She comes toward me as I walk to her car and doesn’t protest when I slide my hand into hers. I give it a quick squeeze.

  “Thanks so much for doing this,” I say. “You have no idea how much it means to me.”

  “I think maybe I do.” She lifts our joined hands to her lips and kisses the back of mine gently. “And I’m happy to do it.”

  Inside, Krissy seems taken aback that I’ve shown up with a woman. “Hello, Mr. Sherwood. How are you today?” She pointedly doesn’t look at Chloe, but then gives her a careful look and a smile.

  “I’m fine. This is my friend Chloe. Chloe, this is Krissy.”

  They exchange friendly nods, then I ask the usual question, the one I ask every time but which I always dread hearing the answer to. “How’s Mom?”

  Krissy’s nod is firm. “She’s doing well. Had a few minor setbacks this week, but overall…” Her voice trails off. It’s not the worst assessment she could give me, but my stomach falls a little. I have a feeling Mom’s entering a downward spiral.

  “I wish you’d called about the…setbacks.”

  “She asked me not to. Doesn’t want to worry you. And seriously, they were minor, or the doctor definitely would have had you on the phone right away.”

  I decide I believe her. “Okay. Can we see her?”

  “Of course.”

  We head back to Mom’s room. Chloe squeezes my hand, but I get the impression she’s trying to encourage me rather than indicating anxiety on her part. I’m glad she seems comfortable with the situation.

  When we walk in, Mom’s lying with her head turned to one side, and for a split second I feel like I can’t breathe. She looks so fragile, so tiny. Her skin is papery, shrunken. Her fingers look like little more than bone.

  Then she looks toward me, opening her eyes, and a beaming smile fills her face, and she’s Mom again, alive and hopeful.