Carlos shifted and I looked up to find his eyes dancing with mirth. “Really? Who would have ever guessed that?”
I smacked him lightly across the chest and tried to smother my grin. “Don’t think you can start mouthing off to me just because I’m on your lap. That can change in a hot minute.”
His gaze dropped to my exposed chest. This time, the thought of covering myself didn’t so much as cross my mind. I let him look. Let him see the way my nipples beaded beneath his attention and how strongly he affected me.
“In that case,” he said with a lazy smirk that would’ve melted my panties off if I was wearing any. “Don’t let me interrupt you. I’m enjoying this view. Here, let me show you how much.”
His hands scooted up my thighs and over my hips, settling on my ass and squeezing roughly. Possessively. An appreciative little noise escaped my throat, then he was pulling me forward, positioning me over the not so subtle bulge in the front of his pants.
The layers between us didn't matter. When he rocked up against my center, my eyelids fluttered, core clenching with need. I wiggled my hips, savoring the feel of him beneath me. The size of him.
Would he even fit? Did I want him to?
“Sylvia,” he prompted, reminding me I was supposed to be answering his question.
Easier said than done when the only thing I could focus on was the sinful way my name rolled off his tongue.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his. I licked my lips and his eyes stalked the movement. “Say it again,” I whispered.
He knew what I wanted. The twitch of his lips gave him away. “Not until I hear the rest of your tale.”
What. A. Bastard.
I groaned and lightly bumped my head against his. “You’re a big boy now, you can put two and two together, can’t you?”
His smile was twice as infuriating as normal, making my eyes roll automatically. I should’ve known that answer wouldn’t satisfy him.
“Creed and I would spar for hours at a time, and I started getting good with a knife, really good. Enough to make me cocky, reckless. So he taught me the errors of being overconfident in the simplest way possible. Bleeding out in the dirt and getting a hundred stitches without so much as a shot of Jack to numb the pain managed to make things crystal clear.”
He was silent, and I followed his lead, giving us both time to process. I had never shared that with anyone outside of the Sinners, and for good reason. A normal person couldn't understand the way Creed worked. How could they? They didn't live in our world. To them, his actions would be cruel and unusual. In reality, it was one of the kindest things he had ever done.
Carlos reached up, thumb lightly brushing across my cheek as our eyes met. “Hard lessons,” he said with utmost sincerity and emotion choked my throat as I nodded. “I won't lie and say I like the method he chose, but sometimes results are all that matters. Everything happens for a reason. This is only another example that you and I were meant to be.”
Yep, such a fucking goner. I didn’t know how to respond, then I did.
“I’m yours,” I whispered.
His fingers dug into the meat of my ass, hard. His head fell to the curve of my neck and he pulled in a huge breath that had his chest brushing closer to mine. He gave me what I wanted on a rough exhale full of a need that mirrored my own. “Sylvia.”
My heart kicked off at a gallop, searing me from the inside out with a heat that made the few items of clothing I had on seem too much. His teeth danced across my collarbone and the heat turned into a wildfire, threatening to consume me. I sat upright, hands dropping to the button of my jeans. I nearly screamed in frustration when he caught my hands in one of his, keeping me still.
Carlos pulled back and looked up at me, eyes dark and bottomless. “If anyone is going to undress you, it'll be me. Always. Me.”
I nodded dumbly, captivated by the demand in his voice. The promise. Always, floated through my head on repeat and I wanted it. I wanted to be the only one he ever touched this way. I wanted it so badly it hurt.
The muscles in his legs bunched, flexed, then he was holding me steady as he stood in a rush and turned, tossing me back onto the sofa. I landed with a light bounce and could do nothing but watch in awe as he tore himself free from his suit. Those capable hands that were always so careful with me pulled at his jacket until there was an audible rip.
The dress shirt that fit him like a second skin had its buttons torn completely off to bounce along the floor, and he tossed it into a pile somewhere out of sight, leaving his chest bare before me.
I squirmed beneath his heavy gaze, the sensory overload more than I could bear. The rippling planes of his chest, the rounded caps of his shoulders and the steel cut abs were one thing. And that was an understatement. Those alone were worth writing songs about.
If there was a male equivalent to Helen of Troy, it would be Carlos without a shirt on. But I was overwhelmed by more than the fact that he looked like a statue brought to life.
It was the way he had literally torn his clothes from his body.
Carlos. The same man who I was sure never went out in public with so much as an ill-placed piece of lint. I was going to spontaneously combust just remembering it.
Then there was the curling tattoo sweeping across the bronze expanse of his chest. A permanent reminder of how serious he was about me, even before we had crossed paths again. My heart swelled until I was sure it would burst free completely and jump into his hands.
“Diosa,” he rumbled, dropping to his knees before me and reaching out.
His hands went to the button of my jeans but he paused there, thumb idly circling beneath my belly button like a brush made of velvet. There was a question in his careful movements.
I nodded without thinking twice, then I reached behind me to hold onto the back of the sofa as he jerked my tight jeans down and off with a few swift tugs.
Carlos threw them over his shoulder absently, those observant eyes I could so easily get lost in absorbing every detail from the bottom up.
Feet. Calves. Thighs. Hips.
I breathed deeply, anticipating the panic that tried to wrap like barbed wire around my chest. But it was no match for the absolute worship blazing from those lust darkened orbs.
Stomach. Breasts. Arms. Neck.
His gaze locked on mine again as he scooted forward, parting my legs to make room for himself. My cheeks flushed as my pussy became plainly visible but he only leaned in towards me, capturing my mouth in another mind-numbing kiss that was slower than molasses and twice as sweet.
I closed my eyes, letting our tongues roll together.
Letting my back arch to brush stuff nipples against his chest.
Letting this breathtaking man consume me the way no one else ever had.
“Diosa,” he said again, breathing it against my lips. Except I heard it like it was the first time. Because this time, I felt like the goddess he was always claiming I was.
“Carlos.” I wasn't aware that I was reaching for him before his hand caught mine, pinning it back in place.
“Stay right there for me, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes finishing his sentence. Surrender. Let me have you.
I was long past the point of denying him.
He rewarded me with a quick, dazzling grin then kissed a silky path down the middle of my body until he reached the apex of my thighs. He hovered there above my mound and I held my breath, waiting for him to invade that last bit of space with his mouth. He left me waiting. And waiting. Long enough for a frustrated groan to leave me.
His hand hooked around my thigh, spreading me farther apart. The pad of his thumb reverently brushed against the outer lips of my pussy and my breath shuddered out of me.
“So fucking perfect,” he rasped, making those butterflies in my belly dance again. He was so close my slightest movement would have his mouth on me. “Not even my dreams can stand up to the real thing.”
I opened my mouth, on the verge of asking him if he r
eally dreamed about me, when he descended on my body like a man on death row being given his last meal.
It didn't matter that we were undeniably indoors and that the sky I could see through his giant windows was perfectly clear, rays of sunlight shining into the room. When his eyes closed and the flat of his tongue came into contact with my flesh, covering as much of me as he could at one time, lightning struck.
I cried out, electricity surging through my body and using my piercings as conduits until my nipples and clit both hummed with pleasure.
Spurred on by my reaction, Carlos growled against my flesh. My name got lost somewhere in the deep timbre of his voice but it didn't matter. I was already punch drunk on the feel of him between my legs.
He licked me in infuriatingly slow circles and I squirmed with a mix of pleasure and frustration. I needed more. I needed everything I could get from him.
His nose pressed against my clit and my hips rocked forward of their own accord. He squeezed the inside of my thigh, pinning me in place while he lazily lapped at my sensitive flesh. My fingers found their way back into his hair, and I was just starting to tease the silky strands when he glanced up at me with intent.
The eye contact was intense on its own. A chemical reaction threatening to boil over and take my sanity with it. Combined with the way he kept my gaze pinned with his own as he captured my delicate bud between his lips and sucked?
It was no surprise that my orgasm detonated inside me like a bomb.
In the span of a heartbeat my body tensed and stars burst in my vision, leaving my lashes fluttering and my chest heaving. My pussy spasmed, clenching on nothing. A whimper built in my throat, but turned into a pleased moan as his finger circled my entrance before slipping inside of me.
The feel of his digit pushing its way inside me made my body jolt, inner muscles clamping down as another wave swept through me. “Carlos!”
“That’s it,” he rumbled against my flesh, finger smoothly pumping in and out of me. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
It was like his reassurance was the only thing I needed. Pleasure roared through my veins so fiercely it drowned out everything else. My nails dug into the back of his neck like talons and he didn’t seem to care in the least, not even when my thighs tightened around him for long moments before my body finally started to relax.
“Holy shit.” I stared at the ceiling, trying and failing to catch my breath. "That was… wow."
I felt Carlos shift his weight but I was beyond movement that involved much more than blinking. His arms went to either side of my head, bracing on the back of the sofa, then his handsome face filled my vision, chin still glistening with my wetness. I thought I would feel embarrassed to see such an obvious sign of what we had just done.
Instead, another trembling wave passed through me.
My hands reached out of their own accord, seeking the solid length of him. Except before I could arrive at my destination, he shook his head, licking his lips in what felt like slow motion. I hooked my fingertips around his waistband instead and felt the heat of his flesh burning against my skin.
"Why not?"
Oh. God. Was that my voice sounding so bratty and put out?
My face must have matched my tone because Carlos chuckled above me and I pushed ineffectively at his chest, a blush creeping up my neck.
“Make no mistake.” His lips brushed my cheek as he wound our fingers together. “There’s nothing I would rather do than carry you back to my bedroom and spend the day there, but we have a ruse to sell.”
“We do?”
Had he considered finding literally anyone else to take care of whatever it was so we could explore that first option?
“Unfortunately so,” he said. “The fat prick I pretend to answer to needs to believe I have you sufficiently distracted. The best way to do that is for us to be seen together. If you’re with me, there’s no way you could be snooping places he doesn’t want you.”
I sighed, hating that he had a point. This was hostile territory. We couldn’t afford to waste the day away. Of course, I was only agreeing because this was a completely tactical decision.
It had nothing to do with the part of me that was unreasonably excited about what would be my first real date in the better part of a decade.
Nope. Nothing at all.
Which consequently made me remember something even more important.
“Hair,” I blurted suddenly.
Carlos blinked down at me, completely lost. I couldn’t blame him. Talk about a subject change. “What about hair?”
“Mine is a wreck.”
I ran my free hand over my head. Ditching the mohawk had served its purpose and kept me briefly incognito. But the thought of returning to my usual spikes didn’t sit right with me either. It felt like a step backwards.
And the the current mess I was working with was definitely not meant for waltzing around the city with its formerly most eligible bachelor.
Key word: formerly.
His brows shot up. “You look like a dream to me.”
“Okay, brownie points for that one casanova, but I need to do something about this before we go anywhere.” His mouth opened and I shook my head. “I appreciate the compliments. I really do. But if you say anything other than an address we’re going to have a problem.”
He chuckled, making my threat seem less than stellar with the happy sound. “Violence? Still?”
“If it ain’t broke…now stop stalling.”
“I know a place.”
CHAPTER 18 - Carlos
I already knew what to expect when I turned the car off and indicated the shop before us, but the skeptical look on Sylvia’s face remained deeply amusing nonetheless.
“You can’t be serious,” she said, eyes flicking across our destination. “Out of what had to be hundreds of choices, this is the one you went with?”
“Do you really think I would take you somewhere I didn't believe was the absolute best?”
“No,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I expected something a little less...tacky. I get that I need to be seen on your arm, looking as non-threatening as possible. Still, I do have some pride in my reputation. I’m not going to strike fear into the hearts of anyone who sees me go through that door.”
I waited for her to look my way before holding up a pinched finger. “Are you sure you aren’t being a little bit dramatic, sweetheart?” The way she freely allowed her lips to quirk with every endearment I sent her way was quickly becoming my reason for living. “It’s only a building.”
“Carlos. Their idea of a neon sign is a giant, purple lightsaber. Who the hell comes up with that kind of thing?”
“She’s a bit eccentric, sure, but Maya is also the most talented stylist in the city.”
She stared straight ahead, looking uncertain, and I could hear the steady tapping of her foot. I was already getting better at understanding the mind behind those silver eyes, but the source of her hesitation remained unclear.
Is she nervous? I wondered. But it didn’t fit. The only time I ever saw the cracks in her confidence, we were alone.
I was back at square one, not knowing what was going on. Heading down a rabbit hole of maybes would get me nowhere, so I decided to abandon that line of thought completely. My priority was beside me. Easing her nerves and continuing to earn her trust were the only matters of importance.
My hand crept across the center console, slow enough to avoid startling her. After shamelessly watching her get dressed in another long sleeved black shirt and sinfully tight jeans, I had a new respect for how many knives she could keep hidden at one time. Adding that to the knowledge of just how fast she could have one in the palm of her hand and lodged into a vein, I wasn’t taking any chances.
Halfway there, she rested her open hand atop her thigh, leaving the invitation open. I locked our fingers together swiftly, lifting her hand to my mouth so I could kiss each knuckle. Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath,no longer fidge
ting. “Trust me,” I said.
“Fine, but I reserve the right cut your hair myself if this goes wrong.”
Then let’s hope Maya isn’t having an off day.
A minute later, I was holding the front door of Good Intentions as we walked in together. The unmistakable tune of the Imperial March greeted us before quickly being drowned out by the chatter of several commingling conversations. Barely ten in the morning and each chair was already playing host to a rather...colorful assortment of clients with their stylists right behind them.
There was a skinny, dark skinned man in the first chair wearing a neon pink tank top and matching leggings that actually went surprisingly well with his high heels and oversized afro. Really oversized. I wasn’t quite sure how he got through doorways or held open umbrellas but those things were none of my business.
It only took a quick sweep of the area to determine there were no threats among the variety. Although some might consider having Isaac check into every person who would be here today a form of cheating. Those people could jump off a cliff for all I cared. I wasn’t taking any chances with my woman.
At my side, the tension had returned to the set of Sylvia’s shoulders. This time, I wasn’t sure if it was nerves, the people, or the life sized figure in black armor in the corner, reaching out with one black gloved hand. Either way, it was probably better to speed this process along. There were already too many heads turning our way in recognition. I put my hand to the small of Sylvia’s back and she let me guide her towards the front desk shaped like a somewhat familiar spaceship.
Behind the counter was a familiar figure with short, dirty blonde hair. She didn’t notice our approach. Possibly because her nose was so close to the screen of her phone she couldn’t see anything. Possibly because she was simply ignoring us. And by us I meant me. We stopped right in front of her and I cleared my throat.
Saved by a Sinner Page 19
