Vicious (Sinners of Saint 1)

His mouth was hot, his kiss ravenous and rough. Like he was trying to erase every trace of every other man who’d ever tasted me—an erratic rhythm that made my heart skip several beats. I was so aroused I thought I was going to die right there in his arms if he didn’t peel my clothes off. But I couldn’t ask him for it. For one thing, it was nine in the morning and the floor was packed with colleagues. When he grabbed me by my butt and raised my body so my legs wrapped around his waist, I knew we were seconds from doing something very unprofessional against his office door.

“People might see us,” I moaned into his lips.

“And?” His teeth captured my lower lip gently and pulled it into his mouth. He sucked on it hard. His eyes were hooded with something other than boredom.

The fact that it was me who made him this way made my heart flutter.

“And it’s grossly unprofessional,” I said, voicing my thoughts, but I didn’t pull away.

He was right. We’d wanted each other all along in high school. I’d been foolish to try and translate my emotions for him into something with one of his best friends, and he’d been hateful to chase me away instead of claiming me the way he should’ve.

It was obvious we had no future. Too many terrible things had happened between us. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy the present until he was done with his revenge and went back to his life in LA.

“Emilia.” His baritone rumbled in my ear. He didn’t call me Millie, but at least he’d stopped calling me Help. “I don’t give a fuck who sees us, and it’s probably better if they know not to fuck around with what belongs to me.”

“What about the company rules you warned Floyd about?”

“Fuck the rules. I own the company.”

Despite his words and his touch, I managed to place my palms on his chest and push him away. My lips throbbed with our searing kiss, and I felt the thump of my pulse at my temple.

“We can’t do this here,” I argued, trying to convince both him and myself.

He didn’t look too fazed, but walked to his desk and grabbed his keys and phone. He pressed his finger to his intercom, his gaze still on me.

“Receptionist,” he barked. “Cancel all my shit for today. You’ve got access to Miss LeBlanc’s computer. My schedule’s in there.”

“Is everything okay?” I heard Patty’s soft, feminine voice from the other end of the line.

“I’m taking a sick day, and my PA needs to tend to me.”

He hung up and stacked his folders into a neat pile, ignoring me again. I knew exactly what it meant, and my heart raced wildly in my chest.

Tapping my chin, I said, “Sick, huh?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even look up. “I’m fucking sick of not being inside you, where I should’ve been a long time ago. Now let’s go.”

It felt like the walk of shame as we made the long trip from his office to the elevator, with him clasping my elbow possessively, like a guard escorting me from the premises. Everybody was looking at us. And I do mean everybody. Eyeing us through the glass walls of their offices, peeking from the kitchen area and stealing glances from behind the reception space.

I didn’t care as much as I probably should have. This wasn’t a legitimate job, and Vicious wasn’t a legitimate boss. It was an arrangement that was going to be over soon, so I had to grab whatever I could before my time was up.

As we both stepped into the elevator, another suited employee tried to join us.

“Leave,” Vicious said simply, and the man walked out of the elevator without even a flinch.

My mouth fell open, and Vicious punched the button that closed the door and slammed my body against the silver wall.

“Now, where were we?”

I was praying no one else would witness the fact that Vicious was a few seconds from screwing the life out of me, but that hope was futile. By the time the elevator pinged open and we stumbled out to the busy lobby of the building, my lip was cut from one of our wild kisses. I was bleeding. To be fair, I’d bitten him first, but I was teasing him. He, on the other hand, was…insane was the accurate word.

Our hurried steps carried us toward the exit, and I knew our apartments were only a short ten-minute walk away, but it felt weird to make this journey on foot while we were so flustered and hot for one another. My panties were so soaked I hoped people weren’t able to see it through my Christmas-themed leggings. Luckily, they were made out of a thick fabric.

Vicious continued to guide me by my elbow, which should’ve felt gallant and flattering, but I had zero illusions about what this was. I knew him well enough, despite all these years, to know romance was simply not on the menu for him. He was as emotionally available as a jackhammer. This was pure lust, exploding after a decade of simmering quietly, brewed by frustration, jealousy, and hate.