Page 22 of Lust

“Mind your own fucking business and get back to building.” I continue to walk only for him to plant himself in front of me.

“You can’t be here,” he states again, like I didn’t hear him the first time.

“Look, I know you think you’re important with your little lanyard and clipboard, but I don’t give a shit. Get the fuck out of my way.”

His nostrils flare and his face reddens, causing me to smirk, but before he can respond, another guy steps in between us.

“Okay, okay. Let’s cool down. I’ve got it, Skeet.” The guy—Skeet—gives me one last look before spinning on his heels and heading back where he came from. “You’re Roman, right?” the new guy asks, moving so I have to turn and can no longer see Skeet.

I nod, scanning the site for any sign of Blake. “You know Blake?”

“Sure. But you missed him. He left thirty minutes ago.” He gestures toward the exit.

“He say where?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, sorry. But if it’s Blake you’re pissed at, I wouldn’t want to be him when you find him”

“Cheers,” I call out over my shoulder as I stride away. “Sneaky fucker,” I mutter, turning left out of the site toward Sydney’s work.

I hit call on his number as I walk, but it goes to voicemail instantly. I bet the fucking idiot forgot to charge it again. At the bookshop, it doesn’t take long for me to work out that Sydney isn’t here and there’s no sign of Blake either. I was so mad andrushing to get away from Kincaid before I knocked the fucker on his arse that I forgot to question him about Sydney.

Back outside, I try Bake again only to get his voicemailagain. With no other option, I decide to head for home—via Sydney’s house. I haven’t thought about what I’ll do once I get there but fuck it. He who dares wins, right?

When we agreed to come after Kincaid, we did our homework and always knew that Sydney might be a good option for leverage. After what I just heard with Kincaid, I’m ready to use whatever means necessary to bury this cunt. If the cost is breaking precious Sydney Kincaid’s heart, then so fucking be it.

I watch Sydney’s house from across the street looking for any sign she or Blake are there. Ten minutes in, I get the first glimpse of movement inside and still full of vengeful fury, I stalk across the street and right up to her front door. Before I can think better of it, I’m pushing the doorbell, then with impatience riding me, I hammer my knuckles on door, shaking the damn thing in its frame.

A second later the lock clicks and the door opens a fraction, just enough for Sydney to peer at me with one eye.

“Reverend Stone, what are you doing here?” she asks, nervousness lacing her words.

My eyes scan her tired face before dipping to the small V of bare skin visible from her neck down to her cleavage. Tracking the movement, her free hand comes up, tugging the cotton dressing gown tighter around herself.

My nostrils flare as I inhale that addictive coconut scent that always clings to her. Bringing my eyes back to meet hers, I say, “You’ve not been at work. Why?” The words come out harsher than intended, but if she’s scared or shocked by them, she hides it well.

“I’ve not been well, not that it’s any of your concern. How did you know?” she demands, opening the door more and straightening her spine.

Hmmm, she’s got some fire. I like that.

“I went there to look for you. And now I’m here checking on you,” I tell her. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” This time she’s not so successful at covering her surprise.

“No. I don’t think that would be appropriate,” she says, shifting her feet and lowering her gaze, and I notice she’s placed one foot against the bottom of the door.

The move brings a smile to my face, and I watch as she takes a deep, nervous breath. “And why is that, Sydney?” I ask smoothly, drawing out her name. It sounds innocent, even to my own ears. It’s anything but. Never mind surprising her, I’ve fucking shocked myself.

She stutters, her hands fumbling at the collar of her dressing gown and her cheeks reddening, and my cock hardens beneath my trousers.

“Invite me in, Sydney.”You know you want to, I think but don’t say. I don’t need to. She can read it in my tone, see it in my face. I want her to invite me in, and she knows it. I think she has a damn good idea of what would happen if she did.

Temptation is riding her hard, and I can feel the indecision coming off her. It’s so thick I can practically taste it. I’m reminded of Blake’s words about how delicious she tastes, and I can’t think of anything but tasting her for myself.

“No, I…that’s not a good idea,” she stutters. “I think you better leave before I call the?—”

“Police,” I say, finishing for her, then laughing at the very idea she’d be dropping her dear old dad right in the shit. Stepping closer to the door, I rest a hand on it and give it a gentle push. “Let me in, Sydney.” This time I push harder, and it’s enough for her to take me seriously. Whether through fearor curiosity, she moves her foot and steps back, letting the door swing open.

I don’t waste a second and step over the threshold as she continues to retreat. Her eyes flick between me, the door and behind her as she searches for any possible escape.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here. What do you want?” she demands, licking her lips and her chest rising and falling rapidly.

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