Page 30 of Sinning for Santa

Going inside, she remains quiet, taking in the open plan space of the main living area. Her eyes are unable to hide her surprise, and I take a moment to study the space I’ve been living in.

The walls are papered in a texture that almost looks like a linen fibre with greys, creams, and taupes through it. All the doors are a rich brown, almost black, and the light switches match with the centre, a stainless steel look. The floors are a light sandy brown timber look, with large rugs at the foot of the lush grey couch and underneath the rich brown circular dining table.

The drapes are heavy, a greyish black, and I know behind them are white sheers that Jaxcen will get a glimpse of when the sun rises.

Her eyes roam over the kitchen, which is one of my favourite parts of my suite, aside from what lies waiting behind my bedroom doors. The stone benchtops wrap from the floor, their dark granite speckles with silver that makes it sparkle. The cabinetry is a lighter timber to the doors in thesuite, creating a contrast with the black handles and sleek black appliances, including the fridge.

“Shocked little mouse? Or is that disappointment I see in your eyes that my apartment doesn’t resemble more of a dungeon?”

A laugh bubbles up her throat, and as if the action shocks her, she slaps her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening like she is disappointed in herself that she found humour in this situation.

“You’re safe here with me, Jaxcen. It’s okay to laugh.” I grin, and she drops her hand from her mouth.

“You kidnapped me. There is nothing funny about this.” Dragging her gaze from mine, she turns in a full circle, her eyes travelling over my suite. “I think perhaps I’m a little delirious.”

She’s right. I did kidnap her, but with good reason.

“Well, what do you think? Is your new prison up to your standards?”

Her eyes narrow, the fire returning to them as my words remind her that she is indeed my prisoner.

“It looks easy enough to break out of.” She counters and I laugh.

“You can try, little mouse.” I gesture to the double entry doors. “But just remember I have armed men inside this building. I have armed men outside this building. And I have armed men at every exit point of the town. So while this building might be easy enough for you to get out of, do you really think you’ll be able to get out of hell?”

“You know, sometimes you seem like you could be a decent guy and then you go ahead and say stuff like that, reminding me that you’re an arsehole.”

I throw my head back laughing, surprised by the venom in her tone.

“I never said I wasn’t an arsehole, Miss Summers. But I’m not so sure I’ve ever been a decent guy. I think you must be confusing me with someone else. Maybe that loyal fiancé of yours?”

Hercheeks flare in anger but I ignore her, moving into my bedroom as I start to undo the buttons of my white shirt.

The fucking thing is ruined. Not only soaked through, but there’s blood on it from my kills and mud from chasing this little wildcat into the fucking pine forest.

Glancing down at my shoes, I sigh. My Aquillas are looking worse for fucking wear. I’ll have to see if Mabel can polish them up and see if they’re salvageable.

“You don’t know my fiancé. Stop talking about him like you do.” Jaxcen’s words gain my attention again.

“My apologies.” I turn and give a mocking bow to my guest, which just seems to infuriate her more, but as I reach the final button on my shirt and peel the fabric open, her fury seems to disappear.

Her lips part, her gaze searing as it rakes over my chest.

It’s like she’s in some sort of trance as she watches me ease the shirt off my shoulders and drop it to the floor. Next, I start with my belt buckle, undoing it slowly, waiting for her to protest, yet still she remains on the spot, watching like she’s hypnotised by what I’m doing.

I can see it now. The voyeur in her. The woman that goes to Cloud 9, one of Melbourne’s most exclusive sex clubs. I can imagine the mask she wears, probably covering the majority of her face, not willing to risk being recognised.

I imagine how tightly peaked her nipples would be under the white lacy bra I glimpsed beneath her soaked blouse earlier this evening. I bet her panties were soaked through, and not because of the rain.

What would she do if I walked up to her right now, hitched that pencil skirt up to her waist, and slid my hand into her panties?

Would I feel her absolutely saturated?

The thought has my cock stirring, and I lick my lips, so fucking tempted to find out just how slick Jaxcen Summers can get.

What would she do if I took my hardening cock out right now? Would she spin and gasp in horror? Or would she dropto her knees, desperate to wrap those pretty plump lips around my girth?

Slowly sliding my belt off, I drop it to the floor watching how she tracks the movement like it’s in slow motion. And then her gaze, dark and hungry, returns to where my hands are working down my zipper.

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