Page 48 of Brutal Sin
“Then there must be a reason.”
There were many. The pathetic excuses swiftly formed a list in her mind—his touch, his voice, his body. He was gorgeous—oh, so, gorgeous—with his tough-man beard, scrutinizing eyes, and talented hands. Visually, he was perfection. And those books. He’d cleared the shelf that had served as a constant reminder of the months of cancer and misplaced hope. The realization had brought tears, happyones.
And sad ones, too.
“I can see your brain running a mile a minute.” Kim narrowed her eyes. “He did something to win you over, didn’the?”
“No. Not really.” Definitely nothing worthy of the plaguing heart palpitations she’d been battling. “He was the same asshole, for the mostpart.”
“And the other parts?” Her mom reached over the counter, tidying the sugar packets in an unconvincing act to appear unfazed. “Could there have been a deeper connection on some other level, maybe?”
Pamela rolled her eyes. “Wow. You slid off your protective suit and seamlessly pulled on a matchmaker cloak in record speed.”
“I’m not matchmaking,” her mom scoffed. “I’m only suggesting there may have been more of a connection between you than you think.”
“Come on.” Kim waved her on with a swirl of her hand. “Break it down. Tell us what happened. Start to finish.”
Her mom cleared her throat. “Apart from the juicy stuff, of course.”
“Of course.” Jesus Christ. If she ever heard the word ‘juicy’ from her mother’s lips again it would be too soon. Especially when referring tosex.
Her sister and mother had continuously supported her. They had her back even though they didn’t understand her enjoyment of adult clubs or any of the facets within them. They listened without judgment. The only thing they didn’t do was hide their confusion overit.
“He turned up at my apartment with food and wine. I think there may have even been a smile on his face.” Yes, there’d definitely been a smile. A self-assured curve of his lips. “We talked over dinner, and he was friendly. Even a little funny. Then he helped clear the table and gave me a foot massage.”
He’d shown his charm and more of that willingness to physically please. And one by one, the opposing list of negative attributes had begun to diminish under the weight of his allure.
“A foot massage? Is that a fetish thing?”
“There’s no foot fetish.” Not that she knew of. “He was being nice. He even opened up to me about a family struggle he’s having.”
Kim’s brows pinched. “Then maybe you fell in love with him because—”
“Oh, no. No, no, no. This is not love.” She snatched the dishcloth and twisted it in her hands. This thing wasn’t anywhere close to the L-word. It didn’t even nudge the edge of the greedy emotion. What she felt for Brute was something less vulnerable…but equally cloying.
“Then how hard was thefall?”
Pamela turned to scrub at a non-existent mark on the counter. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing. There hasn’t been anyone in my life since Lucas. Not other than physically.” But he’d shown her a glimmer of the man beneath the mask. He’d given her a peek at the soft, gooey center, and it kinda seemed comparable to her favorite peppermint-filled chocolate. “This could be a simple case of enjoying the attention I’ve been starved of. I just wish I could get him out of my head. I need to stop thinking abouthim.”
“Because he’s allergic to commitment?”
She paused, wondering if her situation would be as dire if that was the only issue. “Because I’m supposed to be his assistant for this demonstration night, and I’m not sure I can hide the way I feel. The last time I showed any sort of interest, he confronted me about it in front of the entire club. I’ve never been more humiliated, and back then, I didn’t think of him as more than an asshole. Imagine how he’d reactnow.”
Kim cringed.
“See?” It was a problem. A big problem.
“Tell him you can’t help with the class thingy,” her mother offered. “Call and say you’rebusy.”
“If I call him, he’ll expect an explanation.” And if they spoke, she’d cave under the dominance in his voice.
“Then don’t call.” Kim shrugged. “Send a message saying something came up and you can’t make it. Don’t elaborate. Give him the bare minimum details and leave it at that. You don’t owe him anything.”
No. She supposed she didn’t. Aside from a one-sided orgasm tally, there was no commitment or binding agreement.
“Where’s your phone?” Kim glanced beneath the counter, pushing aside her mother’s handbag.
“Under the register.”
