Sinful Ella (Seven Ways to Sin 6)

“I can’t imagine that,” I said truthfully.

Chris shrugged. “Eventually I had enough,” he said. “I started working out, building muscle, until no one dared to mess with me . . . but I kept playing piano.” He grinned at me. “The key is to be successful, Ella. Focus on what you’re good at, what makes you happy, and eventually you’ll be so good it’ll make anyone who used to look down on you sick.”

I laughed. “You think that will work?”

Chris smiled, his fingers lightly skimming along the bare skin of my neck, making me shiver. “I guarantee it,” he said, then leaned forward and kissed me until I was breathless and my head spun dizzily.

In just one night, everything I thought I knew about sex and love had been turned on its head. It should have been disorienting, but I was enjoying myself too much to give it much thought.

14

Grant

When I finally arrived upstairs, Ella was nowhere in sight, and neither were any of my bandmates. Heart pounding, I stalked around the hall, peeking into various playrooms. I received more than one invitation to join the couples I found there, but I brushed them off.

I knew that the rest of the guys liked to share the occasional woman, but group sex had never been my scene. I was too possessive; when I was with a woman, I wanted her to know she was mine, and no one else’s.

Finally, when I had all but given up, I opened a door to find Ella, head flung back in pleasure, as both Saul and Darren kissed and sucked and licked their way up her long, graceful neck. The rest of the band watched, desire evident on their faces as Ella moaned, her body twisting in Darren’s lap.

Disappointment slammed into me. I was too late.

Saul was the first to spot me. He straightened up, beaming, his dark curls more tousled than usual. “Grant!” he exclaimed.

Ella’s eyes snapped open, and I saw that they were far bluer than I could have imagined. Her mouth formed a little o of surprise.

“I was just leaving,” I began, but Saul ushered me in.

“I was hoping you’d come up here. I wanted to introduce you to Ella.”

Ella was watching me, eyes guarded. Her skin was flushed, her breasts heaving over her low-cut gown. I felt the overwhelming desire to pull her bodice down, to worship her body with my hands and tongue until she cried my name.

“Ella is a virgin,” Saul said, snapping me out of my fantasy. I was shocked; this girl, whose every curve was made for sin, a virgin? A pretty blush rose up her cheeks, and she avoided my eyes. “I was telling her that I knew just the right man for her to lose it to.”

I understood what was happening then: Saul had noted my desire for Ella, and he was saving her for me. Part of me resented that he still couldn’t leave well enough alone, but in that moment I was too turned on to care.

Still, I hesitated. As much as I wanted Ella—had wanted her since I first laid eyes on her—I hadn’t been with another woman since Bernadette. It felt wrong, somehow, like disrespecting her memory.

I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure if that’s . . . the best idea.”

I saw Ella’s face fall, and I cursed myself. Now she thought I didn’t want her, wasn’t attracted to her, when nothing could be further from the truth.

“Shit,” I said. “It’s not that—I mean, I want to, but—” Sighing, I dropped onto the armchair that faced Ella.

Lester’s hand landed on my shoulder, and when I looked at him, there was understanding in his eyes. “You should tell her, Grant,” he said. “About Bernadette.”

“Who is Bernadette?” Ella asked, her eyes wide and blue under her glittery mask.

“My girlfriend,” I said, and I saw Ella deflate a little.

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realize—”

“She’s dead,” I said. “She died here, at the Ball.”

Ella gasped, her hand flying to her lips, full and red and begging to be kissed. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea.”

Briefly, I explained everything. Well, almost everything. But I told her about the fire, that the two of us have been caught inside, and I had made it out, but not Bernadette. Her gaze stayed fixed on me, she didn’t say a word.

“Since then, I haven’t . . .” I cleared my throat. “That is, there haven’t been any other women. Not since Bernadette.”

Ella didn’t blink. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked quietly. And for the first time since it had happened, I found that I did.

“I tried to find her,” I said. “To get her out. But the smoke was so thick, and I had inhaled so much already—”

“The firefighters had to drag him out,” Saul said softly. “He refused to go without her.”