Page 27 of Sinful Attraction

There was nothing about last night that I could call frustrating, unfulfilling, or even forgettable. He spent plenty of time exploring my body, my reactions, and then remembered what he learned. He took the time to get me hot and make me crave his cock, and then made it worth the fucking wait.

That’s never happened before.

The irony hits me like a splash of cold water, and the sweet afterglow haze I woke up with recedes. I slip out of Michael’s arms and bed and hurry into the bathroom across the hall to splash water on my face and try to pull myself together.

“Shit,” I mutter as I meet my own eyes in the bathroom mirror. My makeup’s crazy, lipstick kissed into smudges all over my mouth and chin, and there are black tear marks where my mascara ran. I start cleaning it all off as my mind starts to race.

Last night was the best sex of my entire life... ever. And I want more. Except... there’s a huge complication.

I cannot afford to fall for this guy.

I have to play along with being Michael’s ally and with being interested in him, but at the end of the day, he is still thesonovabitchwho screwed me and humiliated me in front of myfamily. I can’t warm up to him too much, or I won’t be able to get my revenge.

But...

Oh, hell. Now, I’m wavering in my course over some good dick. What am I, nineteen?“Get your shit together, Arya,” I mutter at my reflection.

I’m only supposed to use sex to throw off his judgment while I work on ruining him. So, what if he figured out where my clit was? He also fucked up my life.

I finally give up and take a whole-ass shower, taming down my massive bedhead and washing off our sweat. I smell like his cologne even after scrubbing down. Just a little whiff of it, but it mocks me. It’s a reminder that I can’t take back last night.

The worst part is, I know that as soon as I see him, I’ll want him again. He has that power over me now, and I know it, and I hate it.

Chapter 13

Michael

I wake up from the deepest post-sex sleep of my life to hear Arya puttering around in my bathroom, and I’m immediately all smiles.She’s still here.

I don’t know why, but I half-expected her to slip out after waking up. Especially if she’s decided last night was a mistake. I don’t expect her to give me shit about it—she enjoyed herself too much—but I really hope she’ll want to come back for seconds. And thirds.

I guess we’ll see.

By the time I get out of the shower, she’s already dressed and in my dining room, looking at my laptop. Her hair looks a little damp, her makeup is lighter, and she’s every bit as hot as last night. I see her, and I feel it all through me, like a soft heat wave.

“Good morning. I’ll get some coffee going. You’re really diving in this early?” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice, but her glance tells me I’ve failed.

“Sorry,” she says distractedly. “Last night was great, but now, I have to make up for lost time.”

I stare at her, not sure if I should feel disappointed or not. We do have to get all this bullshit done, but it’s like she’s flipped a switch. Is what happened last night so easy for her to pull her mind away from?

I’ll just have to spoil her even more next time.

I find my smile at that thought. “Okay, but we’re definitely going out for dinner tonight.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Are we?”

“You really want to live on takeaway while you’re here? Because I don’t cook outside of some grilling.” I flash her a winning glance. “There’s an Indian buffet two blocks from here. You’ll love it.”

“Huh. Well, I do like tandoori chicken.” She smirks slightly, and I know she’s teasing me.

My smile grows. “Once we’re done with all this, we’ll walk over.”

Once we actually buckle down and have some coffee in us, the search through server records goes fast. Unfortunately, by the end of it, I’ve lost my smile.

“That’s impossible,” I insist, denying the evidence right in front of me on the screen.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you’ve read the same records that I have. Someone logged in at admin level using a computer at your home. I don’t yet know which one, but we can track that as well.” She’s talking fast and looking a little stressed out. It must be the look on my face.

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