Page 79 of Masked Sins
“Thanks, dude,” I tell him, placing him on the counter gently as I look for his food.
Sneaking him some treats, I pack up a couple of cans of cat food and throw his water and food dish into a bag. Since Layla is still packing, I grab a glass of water and walk over to all of her plants, watering them with cold water to ensure they don’t die from the heat. Just as I’m reaching up to the plant on top of her kitchen cabinet, I hear her clear her throat from behind me.
When I turn around, her cheeks are pink, and she looks… amused? Aroused? Maybe a little bit of both. Or maybe she’s flushed because it’s stifling inside this house.
“Thanks for doing that,” she says, gesturing to the plants. “I’m ready.”
My eyes dart down to the backpack in her hands, as well as a rectangular box I realize is Sparrow’s litter box.
“Let’s go. By the way, I popped the hatch open,” I tell her, gesturing to the hallway. “It’ll help move the hot air into the attic.”
“Oh. I didn’t even know I had an attic.” She laughs.
I smile as I take Sparrow’s carrier, the litter box, and her backpack, and she locks up as I load my car. Everything goes in the trunk except Sparrow, who I buckle into one of the smallback seats. When I turn to Layla to let her into the passenger side, she’s watching me with that funny expression again.
Smiling, I turn the music from earlier back on, and we drive to my penthouse in downtown Crestwood. There’s a lot of traffic, so it takes almost forty-five minutes. By the time we park my car, wave to security, and walk to the elevator, it’s over a hundred degrees out.
Layla looks a bit pale, so I quickly press the P button for the sixteenth floor, a.k.a. the penthouse.
When I walk into my apartment, the cool air is a total relief.
I let Sparrow out of his carrier immediately, and Layla sets his litter box up in the corner of the utility room. Refilling his water dish, I put it near the kitchen island.
Layla slowly follows me, her eyes taking in everything. Since I hardly changed anything after buying the place from Chase, it still feels like it’s not actually my place. As her gaze flicks over the fur rug and leather couch, I let my eyes wander over her face and neck. She’d pulled her hair up into a bun at her house, and wavy tendrils cling to her forehead and the back of her neck. She’s wearing a white sports bra and black hi-rise leggings, and my mouth goes dry as I unabashedly skim over her narrow waist and muscular legs. And with her round glasses? She reminds me of Evelyn Carnahan fromThe Mummy.
I shift my body slightly to accommodate my growing erection.
“Drink,” I tell her, grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water.
Arching one brow, she takes the glass from me. “Bossy.”
I can’t help it. Leaning forward, I let myself get within a couple of inches of her face. Her eyes go wide, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
“You think that’s bossy?” I chuckle, leaning back.
She blushes and takes a few large gulps of water. “Of course my air-conditioning crapped out during a heatwave.”
I grab a glass for myself and smile as I take a few sips. “Naturally.”
“Thanks again for letting me stay over. Your place is nice.”
“I left everything as is when Chase moved out. Most of it is his.”
“It’s big,” she adds, looking around.
I smirk. “It is.”
“Open.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t want to interfere with any potential hot dates you bring home,” she admits, finishing her water. “You know, like the girl you’re seeing.”
I watch her throat bob as she swallows, mesmerized. “Trust me. You won’t,” I tell her, my voice an octave too low.
“Master!”
Layla and I both crane our necks to see Earl flying through the penthouse. He lands on one of his many perches around the house, and Layla laughs.
