Free Lace and Sin (Sinners Series Book 1) by Aneta Quinn Page B

just like he asked.
For some reason when he’s doing this, torturing me in this most delicious and
unbearable way, I find myself doing as he asks, bending to his will. He leans
in and his lips barely brush against my cheek, his soft warm breath against my
neck.

 
    “What are you planning, Kayla?” he whispers against my
ear, and bites down softly.

 
    “Nothing” I barely manage to murmur as he keeps up his
slow rhythm.

 
    “What do you want from Mikhalov?” he asks gently,
prying, trying to crack me open like a fucking safe.

 
    He slows his movements and I snap my gaze to his,
“Don’t…” I say. I don’t even know whether I’m saying don’t because I don’t want
him asking things, or because I don’t want him to stop doing what he’s doing.
My brain is having a minor melt down right now.

 
    He takes it as the latter, because he starts moving
his fingers again and says, “Kayla, what do you want from him?”

 
    I moan and he presses his lips to mine to capture the
sound. He uses his free hand to grab my shoulder and spin us around,
practically slamming my back to the brick wall.

 
    “Fuck” I groan, both with pleasure and pain.

 
    “Good fuck or bad fuck, Kayla?” he asks, and I see his
perfect smile, his pearly white teeth almost glowing in the moonlight.

 
    “Good…definitely good” I moan again, barely getting
the words out between my little gasps of pleasure.

 
    “Good. Answer the question then” he says and starts to
kiss along my neck, his free hand sliding up underneath my hoodie and finally
reaching one of my breasts. He tugs on a nipple lightly until I finally say the
words, the words he’s been trying to pry out of me for the last ten minutes.

 
    “I want vengeance” I practically growl.

 
    ***
    I study him from across the table in the café,
thinking of my answer.

 
    “Simple question babe…bath or shower?”

 
    “Fine, shower” I answer him. He started this weird
comparing questions game, where I can only choose one or the other. After I
told him what I wanted from Mikhalov, he just dropped the entire topic, and to
say I was slightly confused was a bit of an understatement.

 
    We jumped back over the fence, and instead of walking
back to his car he grabbed my hand and started leading me to this café. The
whole way he was asking me these trivial random questions - Pepsi or Coke, Dogs
or Cats, Day or Night.

 
    “Ass or tits?” I ask him, grinning cheekily.

 
    He looks down my body, or as much as he can see that
isn’t obscured by the table, and finally answers “ass” with a huge grin on his
face.

 
    “My place or yours?” he asks, just as the waitress
walks up with a shy smile. She places our drinks in front of us, and then
shuffles away to the next table.

 
    “Are you still asking your silly little questions, or
you asking me back to your place?”

 
    “You decide”

 
    “Mmm…your place then” I grin at him.

 
    “Are you answering my silly little questions, or you
saying you want to go back to my place?”

 
    “You decide” I mimic his answer and laugh.

 
    He groans faintly and leans his head back against the
booth seat, all while I sit there happily downing my sugar filled drink. After
eyeing the ceiling for a second he finally drops his eyes back to mine, and
watches my lips while I play with the straw. Ugh…it’s that look right there
that has me doing anything he wants, dropping my walls and exposing things I
never would before.

 
    I manage to finish my drink before he’s even touched
his, so he gently pushes his cup and slides it over to my side.

 
    “Not thirsty?” I ask as I pop my straw into his cup,
and start to finish that drink too. I must be thirstier than I first thought.
He shakes his head the tiniest fraction and then stands up, pulls his wallet
out of his back pocket, and pulls out some money to leave on the table for the
waitress.

 
    He gently grabs my hand to