“Now, you have to let me touch you. I’ll take care of you and you don’t have to do a thing.”
Despite myself, my noble intentions started to crumble under the onslaught. I’d be lying, if I said I wasn’t tempted to take him up on his offer—the promise of pleasure, without any strings.
But I didn’t trust him. Saint had an agenda. If I let him touch me, he’d want more. Who are you kidding? You’d want more, too.
“I thought we agreed to be friends earlier.”
“It’s what you wanted, not me. Come on, Little Bit, all you’ve gotta do is say the word. I’ll take care of everything else.”
The way he looked at me, set me on fire. The front door was still open and for a second, I thought about dashing out of it, so I could avoid this discussion.
But I had to shut this down. “I appreciate your impression of Lucifer with the apple, but I’m not an idiot.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, Saint. You’re betting I’ll get carried away and let you do anything you want.” And I would. When I got turned on, I’d forget to be upset with him.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talkin’ about.” His eyes widened in shock, as though the idea had never occurred to him. “This is all about you. Not me.”
“Well, I know myself. Once we started down this road, I wouldn’t be able to refuse.”
His expression was wolfish. “Then you should definitely let me make you cum.”
“So, is Chloe rentin’ this place out to you?” Saint asked.
“Chloe?” The sound of my own name startled me so much, I dropped the keys.
Saint bent and picked them up, before handing them to me. I glanced up, meeting those startling, swallow-me-whole blue eyes. Somehow, I couldn’t look away.
Saint cleared his throat. “What was I sayin’? Right. Chloe’s the girl who owns this place. Her grandmother passed a few weeks ago. She must’ve rented it out to you.”
“Oh, uh, um, yes.” The lie clogged my throat, and I had to force the words out.
“What’s wrong?” He studied my face.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
And then his eyes widened. “Wait a minute. No.”
“Holy shit.” Saint stabbed an accusatory finger at me. “You’re her.”
“Who?” I played dumb, desperately clinging to the plan.
“No fuckin’ way.” He backed off. “You’re Chloe!”
“But you’re…Little Bit.” He trailed off.Saint had given me the nickname when I was a kid because I’d been short. Not to mention, round. “No, I can’t do this. It ain’t right.” Saint shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs away.“Sorry. I have to go.”
Saint raced back down the path. He straddled his motorcycle and then took off, leaving a cloud of dirt and smoke in his wake.
And I was left on the front porch, watching him leave.
Well, that didn’t go according to plan.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42653926-under-your-spell?ac=1&from_search=truePurchase:Amazon: https://amzn.to/2LcJEkK
Cynthia Rayne is a USA TODAY bestselling author of the Black Star Security, Kinky Security, Lone Star Mobster, and the Four Horsemen MC Series. While Cynthia was born and raised a damn Yankee in Ohio, her parents hail from Dixie, and she grew up on homemade buttermilk biscuits and southern wisdom. In her spare time, she enjoys shopping, reading way too many romance novels, and drinking a truly obscene amount of coffee.
Author links: http://www.cynthiarayne.com/https://twitter.com/RayneCynthiahttps://www.facebook.com/cynthiarayneauthor/https://www.facebook.com/groups/122768298075763/https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2030751.Cynthia_Raynehttp://eepurl.com/cKmtIr