Page 37 of Make Me A Sinner
"I didn't realize you cared enough about me to ask," he answers in a stingy tone.
"Set...," I let out a silent warning so he knows he's treading close to a dangerous line. Especially since I didn't realize either that I care enough to ask.
"Hmmm. Worried I haven't paid enough attention to you today?" his lips curl into a wicked smile. "Does your pussy miss me?" he continues in a huskier voice. "You see, if you were a good, obedient girl, I’d have you up on this table already and soothed her with my tongue."
"That's not a wise thing to do around knives," I chuckle, arching an eyebrow, to remind him what happened last time he tried that.
But instead of getting pissed off, he takes my hand, studies the long scar running across my palm, then kisses it. "Don't threatenme with a good time unless you’re ready to follow through," he licks the length of my scar, letting his lips rest on it for a few moments before keeping it there as a prisoner.
Okay, that was the hottest thing anyone’s ever done. I should get used to Set competing with himself when it comes to incredibly steamy things. But I never seem to be able to manage it. The man surprises me every single day. And in the next moment, I realize tonight won't be any different.
We’ve barely taken our seats at the table when the waiter comes with our menus—but that’s not all she brings. She’s wearing the largest smile I’ve ever seen. And as I get a better look at her, I realize it's aimed directly at Set.
A weird feeling engulfs me. I don't know for sure if it's jealousy or just shock that an actual living, breathing person is smiling at him. He's undeniably handsome and seductive, there’s no denying that. But there’s also a lethal coldness to him that makes him unapproachable which usually keeps normal people from making that kind of gesture.
It piques my curiosity, especially since the girl seems way too young to be involved with a man like him. But the heat wave that floods my body stalls just in time as I hear her say a genuinethank you.
Smiling and thanking him. She must be confusing him for someone else, because no one in their normal mind would ever thank Set.
But then she goes on, her crystal-clear childish voice full of gratitude, "Thank you for helping me out. I consider you my guardian angel, Mr. Malvagio."
I cough, choking on the irony. He's much closer to the devil than any angel I’ve ever heard of. And still, the gratitude in the kid's eyes says otherwise.
"What did you help her out with?" I ask, even though I can see Set nodding, just so she’d leave already. From the look inhis eyes, he's not gonna give me an answer, so I turn to the girl instead.
"I’m sorry, I should go," the girl says, trying to excuse herself.
"Not before answering my question, you don’t," I press, fueled by some madness that makes me ignore Set’s grimace. "What did he help you out with?" I’m not usually this pushy and I certainly don’t make it a habit to interfere in other people’s business, but since my business is Set’s business, I consider it goes the other way around too.
The waitress glances at him for permission to go on, but the sharp look in my eyes shows her that I'm overriding even his authority, so that gets her talking. "I was working at a strip club. I needed the money to support my family, and no other job in Vegas pays that well. Except here. Mr. Malvagio offered me this job a couple days ago so I could leave that shithole. Excuse my French."
I have to admit, I was prepared for anything at this point. As I see it, the odds of him fucking her were way higher than the ones of him being a decent person. I can't even process most of what she's saying, but I can process a specific part of the conversation. "You were at a strip club?" I ask, still confused about him being some kind of savior, while on the other hand, disturbed by how he apparently spends his free time. The girl said a couple of days ago. That makes it recent. I'm not expecting him to be a good man, but for some reason, knowing he goes to strip clubs kind of hurts.
"I met with one of my informants there. You know when I was trying to keep your ass out of trouble." Set says, doing his best not to make this sound like he's making excuses. More like he's putting the blame on me.
So he was saving the girl and me, all on the same day. The struggle that goes on in my mind for the rest of the evening, still trying to see him as the bad guy, is catastrophic, because there'sa part of him that’s sneaking into my heart with every new thing I learn about him. He’s certainly evil, but what if him, being the monster, keeps other worse monsters away?
The girl spoils us like royalty to the point where she's constantly adjusting our forks so they’re perfectly straight on the table and refilling our glasses every five seconds. Still, Set doesn't even seem to notice. He's checked out, and even though he still flirts with me now and then, I know his mind’s somewhere else.
It troubles me seeing him like that. And to make things worse, it even troubles me that it troubles me. I'm a very complex, seriously fucked up individual. I've learned that much ever since I met Set.
That still doesn’t mean I can keep my damn mouth shut. I don't want him carrying whatever burden’s weighing on his shoulders alone, especially since I'm convinced I helped put it there. "Are you going to war with Chen?" I ask, already knowing this was exactly what he was trying to avoid when he planned the heist in the first place.
His dark eyes lock on mine, like he's about to say something he's never been more certain of in his life. "I'm not planning a war. I'm planning total annihilation. Chen crossed a dangerous line when he put a hit on something that's mine. And I’d give my last breath before I ever let him hurt you." Taking one of my hands from the table, he brings it to his lips, slowly, kissing my knuckles first, then the inside of my wrist, making my fingers gently scrape across his face. And I can't keep them still, despite my best attempts. They slowly drift against his stubble, and his eyes close as he takes deep breaths, as if he’d like me to do that for hours and hours.
And the worst part is... I’d like that too.
But we’re still in the middle of the restaurant, so instead, I just draw my body close to his until I feel his hand slippingfrom mine and securing around my back. The spot he touches suddenly ignites, like pure electricity flows from his fingertips. My body relaxes and tenses all at once. My thighs come together, trying to suppress a need that’s spiraling out of control. And my lips murmur words I know I’ll regret at one point, but I just don't care. "Let's gohome."
twenty
-Serena-
Set looks at me like I just planted a bomb on his face, but only for a short second before he regains his composure and waves the waiter to clear the table, because apparently, we’re leaving.
Without bothering to say another word, he takes my hand and leads me straight out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobbies, and into the elevator that leads to his penthouse. I know the wordhomedid something to him. I chose it deliberately in my best attempt to make him forget that wholetake care of yourselfspeech, and hope that it will be he who solves thatprobleminstead.
And judging by the looks on his face, I’ve got a real shot at succeeding. I can feel small beads of sweat gathering on my forehead, and I don't know if it's coming from the heat of his body or from mine. I don't even care at this point. All I care about is getting out of this damn dress and covering myself with him.
