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Story: Lust (Seven Deadly Sins #2)
CHAPTER EIGHT
BLAKE
I slip from the bed, trying not to disturb Roman. Now Amos is back, he has no reason to get up at this ridiculous hour. I’m pulling on a pair of boxers when a hum of approval comes from behind me.
“That’s a view to wake up to,” Ro mumbles, the sheets rustling with his movement.
Spinning, I find him on his back with his hands behind his head, the duvet resting at his hips, his abs and tattooed chest on full display. I lick my lips as memories of last night flood back in, but I don’t have time to indulge in a repeat performance. Stalking to the bed, I lean in and kiss him.
“I need to shower and get to work or I’ll be out of a job,” I tell him, pushing away from the bed and toward the en suite. It’s about the only decent thing this place has. And even that is bland and lacking any sort of character.
I find Ro in the kitchen once I’m showered and dressed and a coffee waiting for me.
“Is this what they call domesticated bliss?” I joke, picking up my cup and drinking. When Ro doesn’t answer, I look over to find him staring at me. “What?” I look down at myself in a battered pair of blue jeans, smattered with paint, and a white T- shirt with a high-vis vest over the top and a utility belt hanging from my waist.
“Jesus! Get out of here before I take you back to bed.”
I laugh. “Yes, boss,” I say, knowing it will wake his dominant side. I rinse my cup and call goodbye as I leave.
The first time I put these jeans on, Ro almost came in his pants. It’s no surprise I was late for my first day on the job and spent the rest of the day with a delicious ache in my arse every time I caught a glimpse of my reflection. Who knew Ro had a builder kink. But this is one thing I intend to carry back home with me.
I love Ro in his reverend collar too, but not for the same reasons. He looks hot for sure, but it’s more of a taboo thing. I like the idea of corrupting a man of God, and even more so Syd. The girl has no idea how fucking sexy she is. Virgin or not, I intend to tempt her, corrupt her until the only innocent thing about her will be the way everyone else sees her. Or maybe not, depending on exactly how far she’s prepared to fall.
Sydney is the modern Eve, and I fully intend to make her fall from grace spectacular.
When it begins pissing down around lunch time, work is called off, and I find myself heading for the bookshop. Ducking in out of the rain, I spot Syd chatting to a guy I don’t recognise, but her laughter that has me moving on automatic.
I slip down the aisle next to them and listen as the guy smoothly switches gears and asks her if she has a boyfriend.
“No and I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment,” she says apologetically.
“Okay.” The guy pauses, watching her, as though he’s debating whether to say more. Deciding to chance it, he says, “How about just plain old fun? You know, friends with benefits.” He leans against the bookshelf, one arm above Syd’s head, and winks.
She laughs. A sweet giggle but one that hides shock at the guy’s balls or the whole idea of fucking a random bloke. Most likely both.
Screwing her nose up, she says, “That’s not really me.”
“A romantic, huh?” he counters.
“Not really. Just not interested in meaningless…sex,” she retorts, and it’s clear from her hesitation how hard it was for her to get that word out without stuttering.
Taking pity on her uncomfortableness, and pissed the guy can’t take a hint, I step round into their aisle, catching Syd’s attention immediately.
Striding up to her like it’s the most natural thing in the world, I say, “Hey. You ready to go?”
She frowns but catches on fast. “Sure. Let me grab my bag and tell Sheila I’m going on my break.” Turning to the guy, who is busy scanning me from head to toe, she says, “Nice chatting to you, Ewan. Good luck with university.”
“I’ll wait at the entrance,” I call as she heads off to the staff room. I look back at Ewan , and I want to laugh at the look on his face, but instead, for once, I take the high ground and walk away.
“Prick,” Ewan mutters.
I can’t help myself this time and spin around, making sure he’s watching, I give him the finger as I continue to walk backwards. “Have a good day, Ewan,” I call, snatching the attention of several people nearby, who all turn to look at him. His face reddens. Mission accomplished.
I wait by the entrance for five minutes with no sign of Syd. Determined to not let her duck out on me, I go in search of her or someone that knows where she is.
There’s no sign of Ewan, but I do find Sheila.
“Excuse me,” I say, interrupting her counting. I don’t like the woman. She turns, and I continue, “I’m looking for Sydney.”
Her eyes narrow momentarily, then realisation hits. “You were here the other day. Is there a problem?”
“No, no problem. I’m meeting Syd for coffee and can’t seem to find her.” Her eyes trail my body, scrutinising my face.
She harrumphs. “Just a moment. I’ll fetch her for you.” She marches away to a door with a sign saying PRIVATE on it and disappears inside.
I bet she has a direct line to Amos and is filling him in on the inappropriate man asking for his daughter right now.
Several more minutes pass before the door opens and out steps Syd with Sheila following behind. Sydney’s posture has taken on a straightness and a deep frown is creasing her brow. As she reaches me, she glances quickly over her shoulder to where Sheila now stands a couple of feet away.
“Look, I don’t know what your game is, but you can’t just show up at my work and demand I go to coffee with you. Not that I’m not grateful for getting me away from Ewan, but I didn’t think you were serious,” she whispers, eyes darting around the shop as though everyone is watching her.
I take note of the bag slung over her shoulder and the coat she’s wearing. “Don’t you have lunch now?”
Looking down at herself, she says, “I do. But…”
“So let’s go.” I gesture for her to go ahead before she can respond, placing my hand on the small of her back and guiding her toward the exit. “If you really don’t want to have lunch with me, once we get outside, we can go our separate ways, although I don’t think you will.”
Her head spins and she glares at me. “Seems Ewan isn’t the only one who can’t take no for answer.”
Outside, we walk until we are out of sight of the shop and its occupants, particularly Sheila, who I know watched us all the way, then Syd rounds on me.
“What are you doing here, Blake?”
I roll my eyes. “Like I said, taking you to lunch, coffee, something else, if you fancy,” I say with a laugh and a wink.
She sighs and throws her hands up in the air. “I don’t know you. Did I agree to coffee with you? Yes, I did. Did we agree a time or place? No, we did not. Do I want to go to lunch with you? N?—”
“Sure you do,” I say, interrupting her and cutting off the ‘no’ I know is coming. “It’s just lunch or coffee, whatever you want. And, in case you didn’t know, every relationship starts with two people who don’t know each other.”
She shakes her head. “This is…not that. And does taking the mick usually work for you as a chat up line?”
“It’s called a sense of humour, Syd,” I reply dryly, losing patience with this charade and contemplating throwing her over my shoulder.
She baulks at my words. “I have a sense of humour, I’ll have you know.” She pouts like a petulant child, crossing her arms.
I laugh. It’s impossible not to when she’s looking at me like that. Not impressed, she stomps past me, nudging my shoulder as she goes.
“And stop calling me Syd. I sound like a little old man,” she calls back, making me laugh harder.
I jog after her. “Okay, I’m sorry. Come to lunch with me? We can talk about that stick Sheila has up her ar?—”
She twirls around and slams a hand over my mouth, unaware of how close I was. Her hand smells of soap and vanilla, and I hold back the desire to swipe my tongue out and lick her palm or kiss it. Time stops for a second as she looks at me. I can see the war waging inside her. A clean split down the middle between giving in or to keep walking.
She yanks her hand away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She takes a step back, and I think she’s going to run. “Okay, let’s go to lunch. But it’s just lunch, Blake. It’s not the start of anything and doesn’t mean anything either. And no more turning up at my work.”
Fuck me if my dick isn’t hard listening to her laying out her terms. I’m so lost to it that I miss the part where I’m supposed to answer her.
“Deal,” I state, holding out my hand. Clearly confused, I add, “Shake on it?” She rolls her eyes but places her dainty hand in mine and my fingers wrap around it easily. Giving it a couple of shakes, I then release it and say, “Where to, Syd…ney?”
“That’s better. I know the perfect place.”
Syd leads me to a small bistro hidden down one of the many lanes. The outside is simple yet welcoming with its plain cream awning, the name Fork it was her ex.
“So, what’s good?” I ask, opening my menu.
“Dirty fries,” she states simply.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
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- Page 7
- Page 8 (Reading here)
- Page 9
- Page 10
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- Page 12
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- Page 29
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- Page 43
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- Page 46