Page 38 of Sinful Desires
It was the first time anyone had bothered to truly apologize for hurting my feelings, my reputation, or just me, in general. And it stung in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
I almost wished he hadn’t said anything, because now?…?now I had to feel it. The ache of being seen, even just for a second, the way I’d always wanted to be.
Like a human being.
“Apology accepted,” I said. My voice was steady, but my heart wasn’t. “Just try to keep that judgment in check next time.”
His eyes flickered to my lips, just for a breath, just enough to send a shiver racing down my spine. His eyes were too deep. Like I could fall into them and never find my way back.
They say eyes are the windows to the soul, and all I could think about in that moment was how badly I wanted to break down that wall to peer into the world of Théo Leroy.
“Miss Harper?…”
Each syllable rolled off his tongue, and it had me trembling in places I’d rather not admit.
I let my hands fall to my sides, my head tilting back until the cool metal of the car met my skin, a sharp contrast to the fire burning underneath. My eyes were half lidded as I tried to focus, but the scent of him, dangerously addictive, swept over me and dragged me under.
God, he smelled so fucking good.
I wanted to run my hands over him. Wanted to taste him. To lose myself in the heat of his skin, the taut lines of muscle beneath that damn vest. The urge was primal, relentless.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d step into his space, tilt my head up, and press my mouth to his neck, just to see if it tasted as good as it smelled.
“Yeah?” I breathed out, my voice a soft rasp.
LeRoy’s face stayed unreadable, but there was that glint of amusement in his eyes that I could’ve sworn was mocking me.
“The door.”
And just like that, reality hit me harder than a truck.
I looked down, mortified to see his hand gripping the car handle, just waiting for me to move. My face burned with embarrassment as I awkwardly cleared my throat, glancing around the empty parking lot like I could find some escape from my own humiliation.
Stepping aside, I let him open the door. I practically threw myself inside, ducking my head and hiding behind the seat as he closed the door behind me.
This was definitely my sign to go home and put my toys to work tonight before I lost the last working cell in my horny, rattled brain.
Chapter
Twelve
“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too.They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”
? Stephen King
Théo
I hit the button for the fifteenth floor as Scarlett twitched beside me, biting her nails like she was strapped to a live wire. It was well past nine, but her father had decided at the last minute that he needed to see her to talk business.
I had to start with him if I wanted to figure out who Scarlett Harperreallywas.
Lucius Harper didn’t have skeletons—he had mass graves. Finding dirt on him felt like digging for gold in a minefield.
Still, I dug.
The scraps I’d pulled told me everything I needed to know: He was a master of manipulating his image. And let’s just say, his image wasn’t the only thing he’d crafted. I wondered if Scarlett knew what kind of man she was walking into a room with.
Twenty people burned alive, turned to ash in a matter of minutes. Just because Lucius Harper had wanted to kill a headline.
