Page 9 of Stolen Sin

Except there’s something different about my car. I slow then stop and stare as the driver’s side door opens and a man gets out. Of my car. I look around, wondering if maybe I’m looking at the wrong twenty-year-old Honda Accord, but no, that’s absolutely mine.

And Mr. Bianco was sitting behind the wheel.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my mouth wide open, and suddenly all my stupid sex fantasies don’t seem so great anymore.

Not staring at the man in the face.

That chiseled jaw, those hard eyes, his roguish smile like he knows he was being bad but doesn’t care that I caught him. His head tilts as he comes around the front of the car and saunters closer.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says.

And a little voice in my head screams: less talking, more tying me up and fucking me!!!

“You wanted to talk to me by breaking into my car?” I step back from him and look around, but Rachel and Ethan are both already gone. Not that they’d be much help. “You realize that’s weird, right?”

“I haven’t broken into a car in a while. I just wanted to see if I could still pull it off.” He makes a disappointed face. “It wasn’t even hard.”

“Oh, sorry my car’s security let you down.” I throw my hands up. This guy is absolutely insane. “Seriously, this is an enormous violation. Like, you crossed a whole host of boundaries just now, you realize that, right?”

He looks back at me and doesn’t seem fazed. “Like I said, I want to talk to you.”

“No, thanks. I’m going home.” I brush past him and head toward the driver’s side.

“I have a proposition.”

His voice is silky and commanding, and I swear my core clenches, which is not something I’m proud of, but I can practically hear that man telling me to get down on my knees, and I’m pretty sure I’d do it.

“Save it for someone else,” I say, reaching the door. I swear, I locked this thing before going inside. “I don’t care what you do with your sex bag, Mr. Bianco, but it doesn’t involve me.”

“Simon,” he says, standing against the passenger side door. He leans his forearms on the roof. The guy’s massive with shoulders like bowling balls. “My name’s Simon.”

“Oh. Okay. Good for you. I’m still leaving.” I grab the handle and yank the door open.

“It’s not a sex bag,” he says, sounding casual as he glances at his hands, looking bored. “Just so you know.”

I pause, hating myself for taking the bait. “Like I said, I’m not trying to judge you. I mean, I have certain interests too, but—” I bite my tongue because my god I don’t need to start telling this guy about my kinks. “Seriously, I don’t care. I just want to go home.”

“I’d happily use what’s in that bag to bind your ankles together, and I’d strap that ball gag to your mouth, but I told you, it’s really not for sex.”

I take a ragged breath, because Jesus, the thought of him tying me up has been a constant fantasy all day, and hearing it from his dirty mouth only makes me freeze like a prey animal.

“What’s it for then?” I ask, and I know I’ll regret it, because if that bag isn’t for fucking then it’s for something even worse, and I don’t want to know.

But Simon leans closer.

“Those weren’t sex toys, topolina. Those were for kidnapping. I can understand how you confused the two, but I assure you, the person I tied up last night didn’t enjoy it one bit.”

I start to hyperventilate, because yeah, that’s exactly what I didn’t want to hear.

This is too much. This is way too much. Simon just admitted to kidnapping someone, and I have no clue how to process that. I wish I could open up a huge pit in my brain and toss the last twenty seconds into a deep dark hole then cover it up with a sign that reads Do Not Remember, For The Love Of Your Sanity, He’s Not Hot Enough, Don’t Do It, but the sign would be a lie.

He’s definitely hot enough.

“What do you want from me?” I manage to croak, feeling a horrible mix of terrified and sick.

“I only want to talk. I promise, I left my bag at home.” He smiles, but it’s not comforting, not even a little bit. “You were trying to steal from me last night. No, don’t speak up, I don’t want to hear you deny it. That will only annoy me. In exchange for showing mercy, I want you to hear me out. I need a half hour. I’ll take you somewhere public. And when I’m finished, you can drive home, regardless of what you decide.” He opens the passenger side door. “I think that’s more than fair, topolina.”

More than fair. More than fair. I think that’s more than a nightmare. All my pathetic horny energy is gone, replaced by sheer and total fear, an icy lance of it stuck down into my toes. He’s looking at me like he’s having a good time, but this is a man who could crack my spine with his bare hands. This is a man who admits to kidnappings, who carries around a bag for that express purpose, and who really did catch me trying to steal from him.

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