Sloth (Sinful Secrets 1)

“Fine?” she echoes. She’s looking at me as if I have three heads. “What the hell does ‘fine’ mean?”

“It means fine. I’ll keep it lukewarm, just for you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Perfect.”

I pop the knuckles of my left hand, enjoying the dull throb. “For the record... you look good choked on my cock.” Too fucking good. I don’t blow down any woman’s throat. I seem to break that rule every time she puts her lips around my dick. I can’t let it happen again.

She quirks one elegant brow. “Well, as long as there’s that...” She rolls her eyes—but Cleo doesn’t get it. I haven’t accepted a blow job on a whim since I left USC in January 2011. Gillian came to see me in New York, but...

I shake my head. “It won’t happen again like that. I don’t get high,” I tell her, forcing myself to meet her eyes. They’re crystalline green—a color that I’ve hardly ever seen except on her. “I initiate what we do,” I add. “Every time.”

She shrugs. “Unless you don’t.”

“You want to get your pussy paddled?” The words spill from my lips as my dick stiffens.

“I don’t not want to.” She locks her jaw. Her eyes on mine are steely. Challenging.

Fuck me. “No?”

She thrusts her lower lip out. Fucking minx.

I breathe so deeply, I can feel my nostrils flare. “Do you want to get your pussy paddled, Cleo?”

“I don’t care.” Her eyes are emeralds; I can see the twinkle of rebellion there.

“Are you sure about that?”

The corner of her mouth wavers. Then she nods.

“Get out of the car then, Cleo. Go inside and wait up in your room.”

This is what we’re doing, then. I don’t know what. I don’t know what it’s called, but I can feel it taking shape inside me: something dangerous and beautiful.

I walk slowly up the stairs. I want to hear his footsteps, but the house is quiet and empty.

He told me to lie face down on the bed and take my leggings down. I spend a moment in the room, and then I go out on the balcony.

It’s a windy day. The treetops sway slowly. Pine bristles tremble with orchestral restraint. All around their roots, the river spills—an open vein. The rushing water hurts my ears, like someone turned the volume too loud.

I wait for him with my hands on the cold stone railing. I daydream him behind me. The way he will scoop me up. Throw me over his shoulders. Take me to the bed.

I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t plan for how exciting things would be with him.

I hear him moving—really there now. I can’t breathe. He grabs my elbows. I am whirled around. His face is cold and hard. I try to match his look.

“You’re a defiant girl, Cleo. It’s time for you to get your due.”

“What’s that??

?? I ask, smiling naughtily.

“I’ll show you.” His low voice is strained. His cock is bulging in his slacks. I smile wider.

With his hands around my elbows, he pulls me down to the cement balcony. He urges me onto my hands. He yanks my tattered leggings down, pulling so hard they get stuck on my boots.

My stomach twists as I remember when he tore them. Then he smacks my ass—so hard I yelp. I rock forward on my arms.

“That’s for making me come down your throat.”