Tempted by the Sinner

She froze in the doorway, her mouth hanging open.

I stared at her and tilted my head. Her dark hair was up, showing off her long, lean neck and tiny, cute ears. I took a step closer, the floorboards creaking under my weight. I felt my body go tense as desire washed over me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a naked woman in my house and didn’t take at least a taste of her.

“Vince,” she said like she was trying to ward off a demon.

“I caught you at a bad time,” I said as a smile slipped across my face. “And I can’t say I’m upset about it.”

“Vince,” she said again.

I moved closer. “You look better in just a towel,” I said. “But I wonder if you’d look best without it.”

“Stop,” she said. “That line was terrible.”

I shrugged. “You don’t seem to mind bad lines.”

“I’m going to shower now,” she said, speaking slow. “And when I’m done, we can go to dinner.”

I smirked and stopped halfway down the hall. She was still frozen, her eyes wide, and I knew fear when I smelled it. I could smell it all over her, wafting off in waves, a thick perfume of anxiety. I knew she was terrified of what I wanted to do, and goddamn, I wanted her to be afraid.

I fucking liked that she was finally starting to understand.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Shower up.”

“Alone,” she said.

“Your loss.”

She took a step toward the bathroom. I didn’t move. She stared at me as she walked into the bathroom and put her toiletries bag on the vanity. She turned and caught my eye, her face pale, her expression drawn and tight.

I smiled as she slowly closed the door. I heard the lock click into place.

I let out a breath and laughed to myself.

The little princess didn’t really understand what she’d gotten herself into, but maybe now she was starting to see. Maybe my house was decorated nice, maybe some stupid ex fuck toy made my guest room look all girly and cute, but this little delicious journalist had embedded herself right into the heart of a monster’s lair.

And I wasn’t the kind of monster that let my prey go without biting down deep first.

I smile and turned away. She’d be ready on time, I was confident of that at least.* * *I leaned against the kitchen counter, a whiskey in my hand, my favorite suit buttoned and fitted. I heard her heels on the stairs as I checked my watch.

Right on time.

I left the kitchen and watched her reach the bottom of the stairs. She turned to face me, a little smile on her lips. She held her hands out to the sides like she was presenting herself and gave me two little half turns.

“What do you think?” she asked.

I cocked my head and stared. She wore this tight, short black dress with a long, plunging neckline that just barely covered her full breasts. Her hair was up in this artful little bun, two curled strands framing her face. Her lips were a light red, just pink enough to drive me wild, and she carried a little black bag in one hand.

“You look good,” I said.

She laughed. “Good? I look fucking awesome.”

I grinned and walked toward her. I gave her a look and walked a circle around her. I could tell that set her on edge a little bit, but I stared at her high, tight ass. She wore heels that only made her lean legs look that much more gorgeous.

“All right,” I said. “You look fucking awesome.”

“Thank you,” she said, nodding her head.

“Now come on. Let’s get going.” I headed to the door, pushed it open, and held it for her. She followed me outside and waited on the sidewalk while I locked up.

“Where’s your car?” she asked.

I held out my keys and clicked them. My car beeped a few spots away. She frowned and blinked before staring at me.

“You like it?” I asked, walking past her. I stopped next to my black vintage BMW from the 1960s. It had two rows of seating, though only two doors, and the front swept back in a graceful swoop. She stared at it, her jaw hanging open.

“That’s incredible,” she said. “I thought all gangsters drove, like, boring black SUVs?”

“They do,” I said. “But I’m not a gangster.” I opened the passenger side door. “Go ahead, get in.”

She hesitated. “Let’s keep the top up,” she said.

“Whatever you want,” I said.

She climbed in then I walked around to the driver’s side. I fired her up and enjoyed the little purr of its engine as I pulled out into traffic and headed south.

I took her down to Passyunk Ave. It was packed with people walking from bar to bar. The restaurants were all crowded with young people, young parents with their families, older retired folks. Passyunk was one of the best spots in all of South Philly, and my family owned every single fucking inch of it.