Page 21 of Only the Wicked (The Sinful State #1)

Chapter Sixteen

Rhodes

I didn’t come here planning to maul her, but now that I’m here…

My fingers itch to tug that shirt over her head and to unclip the bra I watched her put on an hour ago.

Her eyes widen and a smile plays on her lips.

With each step backwards, expectations rise that she’s going to turn this into a game.

She’s going to run.

My skin tingles. I actually feel the tips of my fingers, my toes curl, prepped to kick off my flip-flops and leap. The mountain air tastes different—sharper, cleaner—like it did when I was twelve and spent summers here with my grandparents.

Why am I feeling like this?

Maybe because she stripped and stood on Hangman’s Rock and torpedoed down.

My pulse thrums. I haven’t felt this energized since my first successful funding raise.

It’s Sydney. She’s spunky. Feisty. A live wire whose spark lights a fire I forgot I possessed.

When our eyes meet, something shifts. The playfulness remains, but underneath it, something deeper. Something that makes my chest tight.

She squeals.

Twists.

Yes!

Game on.

I’m on her.

We’re laughing.

When the fuck do I laugh?

Somehow, through flailing limbs and tickles, the clothes get tossed in our rush to the shower.

“I’m surprised you didn’t shower first thing.”

Her breasts are bare and Christ, she has really great tits.

“Why’s that? Is there something about that watering hole I need to know?”

I shake my head because my verbal abilities falter in the presence of a naked woman.

My shorts drop to the ground and her gaze falls. Yes, I’m rock hard.

But I’m also close to her warm, smooth skin, and when our lips connect, all pretense vanishes.

The need to taste her, to worship her, overwhelms every rational thought.

I trail kisses down her throat, between her breasts, following the path of water droplets until I’m on my knees.

The tile digs into my knee cap when I kneel before her, but it’s pretty fucking hot with her leg over my shoulder and steaming water pounding my muscles.

She squirms, moans, and it’s not long before she’s directing me, fisting my hair.

Her legs quiver with her climax, and I press my forehead against her as her fingers tease my hair.

She lowers her leg and I trace kisses along her skin as I rise.

Her fingers wrap around my length and I meet her gaze, then bend to take her mouth.

Her strokes are divine, but I ache for more.

“Let me get a condom.”

“I have an IUD. I’m clean. I don’t do this often…it’s been years.”

I see the truth in the depths of her eyes and I willfully shut off my thought processes, instead choosing to feel. To let loose. I lift her, placing her back against the tile, and plunge into her hot heat. Fuck. Nothing’s ever felt like this.

The sensation is overwhelming—her slick heat, no barrier between us, the trust implicit in her words. Having her ride my cock, thighs gripping my hips, my hands cupping her ass, holding her in place while trying my best to avoid slipping and injuring us both? This beats every power move ever made.

When I come, it’s with an intensity that leaves me shaking. I press my face into her neck, breathing hard, trying to process what just happened. We’re skin to skin, nothing between us, and it feels like crossing a line I didn’t even know existed.

Once the aftershocks fade, my considerate side comes out and I wrap her in a towel, examining her back for any sign I was too rough.

“You okay?”

And there’s that grin.

“Think we’ll ever make it to the bed?”

Have we not? No, we have. “Our first night…and morning.”

I tweak her nose.

“Does that count? We didn’t.” She wiggles her eyebrows and I squeeze her toweled ass.

“Hmm. So it only counts if we hmm ?”

She giggles at the muted vibrations coming out of my throat.

“Anyway, believe it or not, I didn’t come over here for that.”

“No?”

I step away from her and wrap my lower half in a towel. Steam fogs the mirrors and rivulets rain down in streaks. And that happened with the bathroom door open. Maybe there was a fan we should’ve turned on.

“Didn’t you come in saying you needed to win a bet and there was only one thing you wanted to do?”

“Well, what I meant was I wanted to spend time with you.”

Good save, MacMillan. Miles mocking me forever present in my head.

She stands in front of her open suitcase, back to me.

“And you know those storms are coming in this afternoon.” I step up behind her, caressing her bare arms, running my fingers along her dewy skin as a vision of her sweaty, muscles flexed, scaling a rock wall flits, and I blink it away, looking instead to the open window and the red gardenias filling the window boxes.

Clouds mask this morning’s bright blue skies. I haven’t checked the radar recently, but earlier today they were forecasting a tornado-inducing system to roll across from the Midwest.

“Netflix and chill,” she says, smiling over her shoulder at me.

“Precisely.” I press my lips to her bare shoulder and playfully drag my teeth over her freshly washed skin. “I came here to help you with your bags. Figured you could stay with me for the night.”

“A sleepover?”

“Well, a second sleepover. I stayed here last night. You stay with me tonight.”

I can’t see her face because she’s sorting her zippered bags.

“But if you prefer we stay here, I’m game for that too. But my place has a wood burning fireplace.”

Do I sound like a schmuck? My room’s better than yours?

“Reading between the lines, I’m your distraction to ensure you win your bet.”

Is that annoyance? Have I offended her? “I wouldn’t say distraction.”

“What would you call it?” She spins around with one hand on her towel and the other clutching clothes against her chest.

“Secret weapon?” I suggest, giving her my best puppy dog eyes. Haven’t used those since forever, but they used to work, so…

She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning, so I win.

“Give me a sec to change and pack my toiletries.”

I scramble to gather my clothes from the floor, and once I’ve accomplished the task, she closes the bathroom door.

Huh .

Doesn’t matter. We’re leaving this room together. When I pull on my shorts, my phone slaps against my thigh. Out of habit, I check it.

Daisy Jonas

Miles says you’re still with this one. We’re placing bets.

I should let it go, but can’t. Daisy’s been like a little sister to me since she started at the company, all sharp edges and brilliant code.

Me

And?

I set the phone down on the mattress and slip on my tee.

Daisy Jonas

Want me to look into her?

Me

U already did.

How’d she forget? Did Miles give her some of his gummies? What’re they doing while I’m out of the office?

Daisy Jonas

For realz

Oh. She means use ARGUS.

Me

No

Go pester Miles

The bathroom door opens. Sydney’s in a sundress. Her wet, raven hair has been brushed smooth, and the thin straps on the dress are drenched.

I drop my phone in my shorts pocket.

“Is this little bet of yours an honor system arrangement? Did I just catch you cheating?”

“My word is good,” I tell her in my deep, what I hope is an I-am-a-sexy-male voice. “You ready?”

She’s holding several zipped bags, presumably from the bathroom.

“You are one organized packer.”

She shrugs.

“A woman after my own heart,” I mutter.

“What was that?”

She busies herself arranging her suitcase, and I shove my hands in pockets.

Should I ask?

She never really confirmed.

“You’re coming with me this weekend, right? To D.C.?”

I step up to help with her suitcase as she tugs on the zipper.

“Isn’t that for work?”

“Meh. I have some mandatory meetups.” The truth is, I can’t picture getting on that jet without her. The thought of ending this—whatever this is—on Sunday feels wrong. “But I’d rather not go alone.”

“Is meetup your word for meeting?”

“It’s not really a meeting.” I shrug.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

She’s looking like she’s caught me in a trap, but really, she hasn’t.

Miles isn’t counting this weekend as vacation.

It’s just two days that butt up to my vacation.

If I actually stay away from the computer until Monday, that would be an exceptional performance.

One Miles would approve of, but Alex probably wouldn’t, given he’s in a tizzy about an upcoming investor meeting.

Me avoiding work over the weekend won’t happen anyway, of course, but if she joins me, I’ll do less work.

“Technically, I’m on vacation through Friday. I’ll have some things to take care of this weekend, but I’d still like for you to join me.”

“I’d need to adjust my flight. I’m not sure?—”

“You’d fly with me.”

Her eyes narrow, and yes, I’m giving away more than I planned about me, but hell, I’m staying in a suite by myself. She didn’t think I was broke.

“Company plane. Small one.” I add the last part because it is one of our smaller jets.

When I told her I didn’t want to spend the afternoon in the car, the reality was I didn’t feel like calling my assistant and having her run down a pilot.

And really, a jet is overkill to get from the Highlands to Asheville.

A helicopter would be the better choice and that’s just another annoyance to deal with because then we’d still need to move the jet to Asheville for my trip to D.C.

Or we could drive like I mentioned. But then I’d still need to deal with the jet.

My AI assistant can do a lot, but I’d need to double-check her work as she wouldn’t be pulling from my standard vendor list. Yeah, staying is the easy plan.

“What do you say?”

She shrugs her shoulder. “Sure. I’d love to hang with you in D.C.”

And that’s another reason I like this girl. She’s chill. She doesn’t need explanations or justifications. She just...goes with it. When’s the last time anyone in my life just went with it?