Alicia cleared her throat. “I’m just going to give you a bit more time!”
The woman hurried out. A smile touched Sierra’s lips. “I think we scared her.”
“Don’t care.” He deepened his voice and his spell. “Just care about tasting you again. Everywhere.”
She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her skin flushed and every part of her grew sensitive and achy. She wanted this man just as badly as that initial night, in the rain, in the dark. She wanted his tongue and his cock and his dirty mouth. And she wanted him in the bright morning light, with no more shadows or secrets.
“But after tonight, there’s one more barrier.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Mo. Did you bring him to Flirt?”
“Yes. Brought him yesterday for an hour to test things out. He liked it. Brooklyn and Prim love him.”
“Not surprised. He definitely has an affinity toward females. He’ll be a tough one to crack.”
Humor danced and played with sweet erotic sensation. “Think you can?” she teased.
“Yes, my sweet flirt. Because once I do, I’ll be buried deep inside you, swallowing your screams and your pleasure. That’s worth walking through damn fire.”
She was already on fire, her flesh heated and stretched too tight, her core wet and needy. He took a breath, as if he scented her, and a primal greed flickered over his face, reminding her of a fierce, predatory, protective…
Wolf.
A sliver of panic set in. Things were moving fast, and she needed space. Sierra jumped from the seat and hitched her purse on her arm. “I have to go.”
He blinked. “Do you want me to—”
“Tell Alicia I’ll call her with payment and details to get it booked. I have to go,” she said again.
Damned if the man didn’t turn a bit arrogant. His eyes flashed with a knowledge that showed he knew exactly why she was running, but he’d allow her escape.
This time.
Without hesitation, she headed out, not afraid to admit this was one time pride had to take a back seat to her innate instinct to flee.
Chapter Fourteen
“The right shoes can make everything different.” – Jimmy Choo
“Why am I getting a weird feeling you’re setting me up?” Aspen asked, frowning over her glass. They’d just finished a meal of shrimp and grits that Sierra was known for. She’d sprung for a good bottle of white, which was perfectly chilled, dry, and fruity. The dessert was simple but satisfying—chocolate chip cookies.
Sierra had always enjoyed cooking for her sister, even as she teased about Aspen’s lack of talent in the kitchen. After their parents passed, it was a way Sierra made sure they bonded. A good meal was a purpose to chat and share; to linger and spend time with one another. It became an important part of their relationship and a way to continue taking care of her sister.
“Why? Because I want to spoil you a bit and update you on engagement plans?”
Aspen took a sip of wine and narrowed her gaze. “No, because you haven’t insulted me once tonight which means you’re saving it up for a confession.”
Crap. Nothing was worse than a sibling who knew all your secrets. Sierra pushed over a cookie and gave a dazzling smile. “You’re paranoid. Try the cookie.”
Aspen regarded the tray like it was laced with poison. “Hell, no. I’m not about to let you hypnotize me with your sugary treats. I want to be sober for this.”
“These aren’t pot cookies, Aspen. I’ll leave that move to Marco.”
Aspen laughed. “That was a trippy book signing, right? Funny, Marco hasn’t been doing much weed anymore. I think he’s still trying to woo Mal.”
Her jaw unhinged. “What! That’s ridiculous—there’s a ten-year age difference! Maleficent would never date Marco.”
