Page 56 of Brutal Sin

Her hand shot to her throat. “I need to wearit.”

“Because?”

Her lips worked around silent words before she sighed. “Because I have marks on my neck that I couldn’t cover with make-up.”

He scowled. “Arash?”

“No.” Her focus shot to his. “I’m talking about your fingermarks all over myskin.”

“I hurt you?” Snapshots of remembrance peppered his vision—his hands around soft flesh, her moans, the involuntary spasms of her pussy.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. Don’t think about it. Don’t picture it. Just forget the whole scarf thing and get the fuck out of this suffocating space.

“Not enough,” she murmured.

Jesus.It was time tobail.

“Good.” He shoved open his car door and escaped the confines of thecar.

She followed and met his gaze over the roof. “Do you understand why I have to wear itnow?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t need a reminder staring him in the face all night long, either. “It looksfine.”

He didn’t watch her as he slammed his door. He didn’t need to confirm an eye roll accompanied her scoff; he was already sure ofit.

“You realize fine is far from a compliment.” She shut her door and rounded the hood. “Just for future reference, Imean.”

It wasn’t like he lacked the ability to complimenther.

He could praise the ever-loving fuck out of her if he wanted. He could tell her how the mere peripheral vision of her gave his dick an aneurism. He could point out how perfect those breasts were—plump and full. Or count on his fingers the amount of times he’d wanted to bend her over different objects and fuck the frustration from his system.

Didn’t mean those words would ever pass his lips, though.

“Duly noted.”

He started for the front of the building, the gravel of the parking lot rolling under his soles. She wobbled with her first step, her thin heels losing traction.

“You okay?” The instinct to reach out and secure an arm around her waist was a mistake. Yet another idiotic move when it came to this woman.

“You don’t need to hold onto me.” She inched forward. “I can manage.”

He didn’t doubt it. But now he had the feel of her embedded into his side, and he wasn’t willing to let go. He could smell her hair, the floral scent more of an aphrodisiac than a gut full of oysters. “I insist.”

He held her gaze, catching every flicker in her expression as he tightened his hold. She swallowed. Straightened. Lifted her chin. Those lashes even beat with timid lethargy.

“Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of trying to pick up another man if I walk in with your hands onme?”

He didn’t care. “Doesn’t falling face first into the gravel and skinning your knees defeat the purpose of that sexy dress?”

She blinked. Balked. Gaped.

He had no cluewhy.

“Sexy dress?” One perfectly shaped brow arched.

He huffed and ignored the grin spreading those red lips. “Come on.” He led her forward, her waist burning a hole through his palm, until he dropped his grip at the start of the sidewalk. “Have you got it fromhere?”

“I always had it, Brute.” She strutted those toned legs in front of him, making her way to the entrance before he snapped out of his stare and quickly caughtup.

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