Page 48 of Unforgivable Sins
He shakes his head. “That’s nothing compared to seeing you in this dress.” He lets his eyes travel slowly down my body and back up. The black and gold dress hugs my curves perfectly and leaves little to the imagination. My long legs peek through slits on each side, giving a glimpse of smooth skin with every step I take. It is probably the sexiest dress I own.
“My God, I may be on my knees by the end of the night anyway,” he says with a devilish gleam in his eye.
I shake my head and laugh. “Thatis not going to happen.”
“Begging to see you again,” he clarifies.
“Oh,” I feel the blush creeping up my cheeks at where
my mind had gone. I was picturing him on his knees in a very different position.
He leans in and whispers in my ear, his voice low and husky, “Although, I’d be happy to be on my knees for anentirelydifferent reason.”
He pulls back so he can look at me. His eyes fall to my lips and my mouth waters and the thought of him kissing me… and of him on his knees kissing me elsewhere. I so want that to happen. I want him to kiss me and bring me back to life. I want to really be able to feel something deep as he pleasures me and not just pretend. The chemistry and tension between us are palpable. I haven’t felt this type of chemistry in a long, long time. Maybe he’s the one. I’m desperate to find out but I also don’t want to move to fast and ruin whatever this could be by making it cheap and easy. But fuck, he’s making it difficult to resist.
I clear my throat. “How bout we find that bar and get a drink? A verystrongdrink.” I laugh nervously.
He smirks, as if he can sense my will caving. “A strong drink, coming right up.”
Over the next few hours, we bar hop, experiencing a little of everything. The physical contact has slowly increased bar after bar and drink after drink. My body feels like it’s on fire and I’m not sure of it’s from his touch or from the alcohol. We’re standing on the crowded sidewalk, the bars are emptying, and the streets are filling up even more.
“I’ve had a really great time,” I beam up into his handsome face. “But I really need to get home and call it a night.”
He nods, “I’ve had a really good time, too. Can I see you again?”
“You have my number. Use it.”
“I will.” He smiles arrogantly as his hand slide around my waist, pulling me in. “But maybe you can give me a little something to remember?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Without asking for permission, he leans his head down and places his lips on mine. They’re soft and gentle at first but when I don’t protest, he pulls me closer and probes at my lips with his tongue. I open my lips for him and he rushes in, impatient and starving. He tastes like alcohol, spearmint, and underneath that, cigarettes. He’s only smoked two all night, a habit I amnota fan of, but it isn’t something to completely turn me off.
Until now.
Until I can taste the smoke on his tongue, and now, in MY mouth. Even with the alcohol in my system, muting my senses, I can taste it as if I lit a fresh cigarette, put it to my lips, and inhaled. It makes my stomach flip and the alcohol churn, threatening to come back up.
I try to pull away from the kiss but I’m buzzed and unfocused, and he holds me tightly, devouring my mouth with a mixture of urgency and possession. Like he can’t wait any longer to taste me and he has every right to claim my mouth for as long as he wants. It should be thrilling, to have this man utterly desperate for me, but all of the emotion is one-sided. He’s ignored my attempt to pull away, taking what he wants in a selfish, greedy manner. All the chemistry I felt with him throughout the night is gone, replaced by a repulsion from the taste of cigarettes and the blatant disregard for how I feel.
I finally manage to push off his chest hard enough that he breaks the kiss and loosens his hold on me. “I really should get home.” I try and smile through the disgust I feel. “I really did have a great time tonight, Luke, thank you.”
“Me too,” he smiles brilliantly. It does nothing for me now. “Can I call you a cab?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I don’t live too far from here, I’ll walk.”
“You’ll walk?” He scoffs. “Not alone. Not at this time of night and not after you’ve had so much to drink. I’ll walk you home.”
“I appreciate the offer but that’s really not necessary. I walk home all the time and really, it’s not far.”
“It’s not up for debate. I’ll make sure you get home safe and sound, come on.” He tugs at my waist, still holding onto me from the kiss earlier.
I have little choice but to agree unless I want to be crazy and cause a scene. Besides, he’s been the perfect gentleman all night long, I have nothing to worry about. I should be grateful that I actually have someone walking me home and caring about my safety.
I smile again, this one a little more genuine. “Alright, I’m a straight shot down to 43rd.”
We walk for a while, walking slowly because apparently, I’m even more tipsy than I thought I was and my heels seem impossible to walk in. Luckily, we’re back to talking and laughing, the earlier ease of the night is starting to come back as I forget about the aggressive kiss. The sidewalk traffic is thinning out as we get further away from The District but there are still several stragglers out this way. He starts to pull me towards an alley between two large buildings. My mind is slow to process things, my limbs feel like cooked noodles, and I let him pull me along. As we step into the alley, a spike of fear rocks through my body, sobering me slightly.
I stop walking. “What are you doing?”