Page 17 of Sinful Lies

My eyes roamed over his face, lingering on the curve of his jaw, the slight shadow of stubble there that hinted at a man who knew how to look effortlessly perfect.

I bit my lip, just enough for him to notice, tilting my head as though I were genuinely considering his offer.

“I have a taste for keeping secrets, Nathan,” I murmured, my fingers now toying with a loose strand of hair. “But some of them? They don’t come cheap.”

I let the words hang in the air, letting them sink in, watching him squirm just a bit.

Then I straightened up, grabbed my bag, and got to my feet.

“I’m not here to make deals for free, Nathan,” I said, setting my glass down. “You want my time? My attention? You’ll have to show me more than a wink and a promise of making mecome.”

I moved closer, dragging my nail along his jaw, then cupping his chin and tilting his face up to meet mine.

His eyes were full of admiration, and I almost laughed at how easily he fell into line.

I pouted. “But thanks for the offer. I’ll think about it... maybe.”

I stepped out of the overpriced coffee shop and walked back to work, the sweet taste of my caramel lingering on my tongue.

The thrill of the chase, though—it was far sweeter.

Nathan Simons would deliver the two portraits by Friday, no question—probably with flowers and a handwritten note dripping with charm. Typical. And when I didn’t respond, when I left his little gestures hanging in the void, he’d try again at theexhibition, angling for my attention with the same predictable persistence.

I’d feign innocence, offer a distracted smile, and murmur, “Oh, I must’ve forgotten about those.”

It’d gut him just enough to make him want me more.

That was the fun part—the waiting game, the quiet torment of a man who couldn’t stand not being in control.

The playbook was so familiar that I almost felt bad for him.Almost.

I could either string him along for kicks or tell him I wasn’t interested, which—let’s be honest—I’ve done dozens of times with clients over the last year.

Or I could finally cave and fuck him.

Honestly … why not?

It’s been way too long, he’s stupidly attractive, and God knows a one-night stand might actually do me some good.

Something hot, dirty, and with absolutelyno strings.

Lost in my thoughts, my body moved on autopilot, carrying me through the glass doors of the building. It wasn’t until I tapped the elevator button that I even registered where I was.

The smooth hum of the elevator arriving snapped me back to reality.

As I stepped inside, a sly smile tugged at my lips.

Maybe tonight I’d finally decide… after putting one of my toys to good use.

Nothing like clearing your head the proper way instead of letting it obsess over sex and orgasms I wasn’t getting.

I glanced at my watch.

3:35 p.m.

I hummed along to the soft jazz playing in the elevator, my mind blissfully blank for once.

But then reality hit me like a bucket of ice water.

---