The Sinner (The St. Clair Brothers 1)

No surprise since that was exactly what we were.

Kylie looked down, thick lashes fluttering against her rosy cheeks, then glanced up to meet my gaze. The unintentional, yet undeniably seductive move made my mouth go dry and the static shocks returned with a startling jolt.

“So,” she said, “I never asked. What’s the deal? Why did you send me your jersey?”

Even wearing what looked to be fairly high heels, I stood a lot taller than Kylie. So much so, she had to tilt back her head to meet my eyes. I loved smaller women, but they couldn’t be breakable. If they were too fragile, they couldn’t take the rough manhandling I preferred. I had specific needs, most of which required a partner who wouldn’t crack under stress. After putting her through the motions, Kylie passed the test with flying colors.

I had to smother a groan at the memory of pinning Kylie down, making her stay still as I pleasured her. I shook off the images and refocused on Kylie, who continued to peer up from under those impossibly long lashes. She had no idea how sexy she was, innocence and seduction in one irresistible package. The material covering my groin tightened and my gaze dropped to Kylie’s amazing mouth, full and thick and painted an alluring shade of red. I thought about how those lips tasted, and how I would love to taste them again, currently painted the color of fresh strawberries. Then I pictured those same lips stretched wide around my dick.

We never did get around to that.

That would be… I practically shuddered. There were no words to describe Kylie’s mouth. My cock strained for release, letting me know its demands.

Ignoring the hard prick poking at my slacks, I gave a casual shrug and hoped I acted as if I wasn’t fighting a rock hard boner.

“First, it’s called a sweater. Only Americans say jersey, which is wrong.” She narrowed her eyes as I continued. “Second, I figured you could use a few pointers, you know?”

“Jersey, sweater, whatever,” Kylie said with a wave of her hand, and a bit of the boldness I first encountered on the patio returned. She met my stare, looking unamused. “You think I need pointers?” she asked, her tone flat. I grinned.

Feisty. I liked that.

“Yeah. Clearly you need help, you know, like making sure you don’t embarrass yourself by wearing the sweater of a less than awesome player. Which, for your information, is anyone but me.” I tossed her a wink.

Kylie’s brow pinched adorably and she stammered. “Wait, what? Y-you… you… ugh!” Frustrated, she stomped her foot.

Luckily, I caught the subtle upward curve at the corner of her mouth. That one tiny gesture let me know I was golden. I wondered if it would be too much to pump my fists and let out a whoop. Probably. Kylie giggled, and the lightness in her voice sounded amazing. I was enthralled… until she finished her thought.

“You’re kind of a pompous ass.”

Right.

“So I’ve been told.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away and didn’t care Kylie called me out. I am a pompous ass. My easy acquiescence made her smile and the action lit up her face. She shone so bright it was as if the dark skies turned sunny, a beam cutting through the clouds to spotlight her smile. My dick gave another restless twitch, reminding me that Kylie was smoking hot and a wildcat in bed. On top of that, she proved she was fun to talk to, and most important, stood within reach. My fingers itched to touch again.

“Hmmm.”

When she didn’t elaborate, I frowned.

“What’s hmmm supposed to mean?” I asked, then winced at my whiney tone. Yeah, that came out sounding kind of pathetic.

Kylie’s smile grew wider and she shook her head.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and stared. “Fine. Don’t tell me. Just remember, if you were wearing your new sweater right now, you wouldn’t be freezing and therefore, wouldn’t need me to rescue you from hypothermia.” At least I didn’t stomp my foot, though I might have thought about it.

Kylie raised a perfectly arched brow. “But if I was wearing the jersey you so kindly gifted me with, I wouldn’t get the chance to experience such unexpected chivalry from the man they call The Sinner.” She raised a hand and oh fuck, the little minx skimmed her hand down her chest, fingering the plackets of my coat while simultaneously biting that sexy lip. I had no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing, a reminder of when she bit that lip as I spanked her pert ass. “Thanks for the jacket, by the way… Seb.”

Holy shit. I was ready to give her whatever the fuck she wanted as long as she kept talking. My mind already categorized Kylie’s raspy voice as pure sex. Toss in her seductive flirting, and it only made it worse. I wanted to hear her shout my name again and again as I shoved my cock deep inside her.

She was taunting me. Trying to get a reaction. And fuck, she got one all right, only I don’t think yanking down my fly and pulling out my cock was the reaction Kylie was going for.

I should only be so lucky.

“Uhh,” I cleared my throat. “You’re welcome,” I eventually choked out.

During the course of our conversation, we drifted closer. By the time I noticed, our hips were nearly touching, as were our arms.