His Sweetest Sin

I’m up. “You talked to Ethan?” I grab the water bottle, swallowing it down in gulps.

“Yep, we had a chat. He wasn’t happy about the strip club, he tossed a few threats my way. I told him to bring it then hung up on him.”

“You hung up on Ethan?” I don’t think anyone except Holly has hung up on Ethan before.

Chris shrugs. “I didn’t like what he had to say. I’m sure we’ll talk again. I’m going to take you to work today. Then I’ll stop by your place to get some clothes for you. You only packed one outfit for today. You’re here until I say differently. As I don’t see that happening anytime soon, you need more clothes here.”

I choke on the water and cough. “Like all the time, even weekends?”

He smiles, grabs my hair, wraps it around his hand then pulls my head back. Oh, his tongue runs along my neck to where the bruises on my neck are probably even brighter today. “All the damn time.”

“I thought I was a pain in the ass.”

Licking the hollow at my throat, he hums against the skin. “You still are. But I haven’t slept so long and deep as I do when you’re in my bed, so it’s where you stay.”

With a sigh, I toss the bottle of water and pull him down to me. “Yes, okay, whatever you say.”

When he pulls away I groan. “No, Mary says you have a client meeting at nine thirty. If I fuck you, you’ll never make it.”

“Please, I need you. I thought men were into quickies. It only takes me three minutes flat to hit my climax with you inside me.”

A hard hand hits my ass; ouch. I push my ass out for another with a pout he ignores. “You only think it takes three minutes. I don’t do quickies, I told you that. Three minutes isn’t even enough time to warm up your pussy and get you wet enough to take my cock. How do you like your eggs?”

Dang it, he’s at the door already. With a groan I roll off the big bed. “Over medium, just a little bit of yolk to dip my bread. Coffee, please, please, with half and half and tons of sugar.”

“Fine, but you’ll need to finish the bottle of water and drink another before you get the coffee. You’re already dehydrated, the coffee won’t help it.” Rolling my eyes, I swallow the last of the water. “Towels are out for you. I left a toothbrush on the vanity. Move it.”

Crap, I didn’t pack my flat iron. Normally, I would have washed my hair last night so it could dry overnight. A peek through his cabinets and I find a hair dryer—yes. As I did the first time I was in here, I’m astonished at how large and modern it is. There is a huge shower with a strip of multiple showerheads, a rain showerhead and a bench to seat three. I’m jealous of the massive double vanity in marble; my vanity is a quarter of the size.

Once again I’m too late to enjoy the huge jetted tub, twice the size of mine. The tub, a flickering memory of Chris holding me in it, comes out of nowhere. I look down at my knee; he’d massaged my leg last night. He’d been so tender when he took care of me, his hands gentle as he fed me then held me in the tub. Even though the massage hurt, he whispered soothing words.

My chest goes tight; he wanted me here all the time, he took care of me as if he was really concerned about me. I remember all the beautiful things he said to me in my office, the sincerity in his eyes, in the way he touched me. No, stop it. Down that road is pain. For now, j

ust enjoy it.

I quickly shower, using the yummy, surprisingly expensive shampoo he has. Out of the shower it takes forever to dry my hair. I give up when it’s only a little damp and put it into a bun.

Loving the sweater dress from last night, I had packed a sweater dress in a houndstooth pattern for work, thankfully with a high collar which hides the worst of the bruises. Teeming it with thick leggings, I shrug. I’ll do.

For the first time I’m able to really take in Chris’s house. It’s beautiful, from the original oak on the floors to the moldings around the doors and windows. I stop again at the gorgeous stained-glass window on the landing between the first and second floor.

The landing itself is huge, you could stick a chair in the corner. I run my hand along the wooden banister. The staircase screams prom pictures. This isn’t a house, it’s a home, a home for a big family with the four bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second floor. Chris said it was originally five the previous owners took one of the smaller bedrooms and made the massive master bathroom he has now.

There’s even a third story with another bedroom, bathroom, and a media room where he has his television. He mentioned the basement was gutted to be redone when the last owners ran out of patience with Chicago winters and moved to Florida. Right now, he’s using it as his indoor batting practice and gym.

I find the kitchen by following my nose, yesterday I’d ran down the stairs and out the front door without getting to look around. I’m surprised when I find the kitchen, not at the yummy food waiting for me, by how the kitchen doesn’t fit the rest of the house. It’s in dark gray with slate on the floor. Chris is waiting at the big, dark table. Good, it’s not as uncomfortable as it looks.

He laughs, “Yes, I have plans to redo the kitchen. I haven’t been here for more than six months. I was going to live it with it before deciding what to do with it.”

Sighing, I nod. “It just doesn’t fit the rest of the house.”

“Nope, I almost didn’t buy it because of the kitchen but there were too many other things I liked about it. Considering I use the kitchen often I’m not excited about being without it. I figure once I retire I’ll take the time as I also have to redo the basement. Down there I wanted to update the Jack and Jill bathroom between the two guest rooms but turn one of the rooms into a gym and the rest of it into a game room with a pool table and set up.

“I like how your place looked. Did you do it?”

“Yep, it took months and thousands but it was fun. I would love to turn this back into the kitchen it came with; Updated, of course, it would be beautiful. We would have to blow through that wall that separates the kitchen from the dining room. It wouldn’t be a true dining room but I notice a thick layer of dust on the table, so you don’t use it often. We could also make use of the sun porch that runs the length of the back of the house, maybe use part of it as a new dining room. There are a lot options.”

“I like the idea of a more open kitchen. Even though I can’t see right into the living room, I wouldn’t feel so closed off. Maybe your new career could be remodeling my kitchen.”