Page 32 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
His smile grew wider. “Candles, too. I see you got a lot of candles in here.” He winked.
What a flirt.
“I’m not sure the image of you soaking in a bubble bath surrounded by candles jives with the whole badass rocker thing you’ve got going on, but who am I to judge?”
He pretended outrage. “What, badass rockers don’t need to get clean?”
I pursed my lips. “I suppose you’re right. But please don’t tell me you also get facials and pedicures or we’re going to have to re-evaluate the status of our relationship.”
His grin returned. “There’s that word again, Kat. ‘Relationship.’ You got it real bad for me, don’t you?”
My face turned red. Because of course my face would turn red.
“Thought so.” He disappeared behind the screen again, leaving me to fan myself.
After what seemed like an eon, Nico strolled out of the bathroom, holding something in his hand. He held it up, dangling from his fingers. It was a short, black, silk chemise with a slit from thigh to hip: my lingerie. The master closet was adjacent to the bathroom.
“This is interestin’,” he drawled.
I covered my face and groaned.
“And there’s an entire section of the closet with even more interestin’ stuff than this. Care to explain yourself, Chastity?”
No, I didn’t. The story involved an ex with a lingerie fetish. I never wore any of it anymore, but I’d spent so much on the stuff I couldn’t bear to just throw it all out.
Nico chuckled. “You’re takin’ the Fifth, I see. All right, sweetheart, I see how it is. I’ve got your number now.” He strolled across the room, twirling the chemise between his fingers. He stopped in front of me, set his hands on the dresser, one on either side of my hips, and leaned down to murmur into my ear. “Lady on the street, freak in the bedroom, hmm?”
God, I hoped he didn’t look in the drawer next to my bed. Maximus the vibrator wasn’t the only little toy in there. I’d been single for quite a while.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, officer. That’s not mine. I’ve been set up.”
“Hear that sad story all the time, ma’am. Sorry to say I’m gonna have to take you down to the station for questionin’.” He took my wrists in his hands, put them behind my back, and tied my silk chemise in a knot around them.
I realized my playful little avoidance tactic had been misconstrued as an invitation to play. Play play.
“Um, Nico . . . ”
“Shh.” He set his finger against my lips. He looked into my eyes, all teasing gone. “Trust, remember?” He took the little black box I’d set on the dresser, opened it, removed the necklace. Brushing my hair aside, he clasped it around my neck, then set his hands on my shoulders. He looked into my eyes.
“You said another one and a half dates. I’m respectin’ that. So what we’re gonna do now is get to know one another better, so after that date and a half, you’re gonna feel more comfortable with me, because you see I can keep my word. And the more I keep my word, the more comfortable you’re gonna feel. Which is what I want. You feelin’ comfortable. So that when I finally do have you, you’re not gonna hold back, feelin’ shy, or embarrassed, or unsure. I want you a hundred percent on board. Yeah?”
I swallowed. My voice came out soft. “Yeah.”
He cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling so turned on. It was part fear, part thrill, all physical reaction to his amazing smell and taste, to that electricity crackling between us.
It was also that I knew, without a doubt, that this man could make me break any rule I might set to slow things down. If he’d really wanted to, he could make me beg him to fuck me, and I’d be helpless not to.
“Good,” said Nico, and swept me up in his arms.
I yelped in surprise. He carried me into the living room, and sat down on the sofa with me in his arms. My hands were still tied behind my back. He settled me into a comfortable position on his lap, arranged one of the cushions behind me so I was propped up, and spread his big hand over my thigh.
“So. Let’s talk. First item of discussion: where were you born?”
“You don’t think you should untie me first?”
He sent me a smoldering look. I read it to mean he didn’t think he should untie me first. I sighed. “Manhattan.”
