Page 15 of Make Me A Sinner
He follows me in and stares me down for a second, but except for that, he ignores me completely and starts unbuttoning his shirt with unrushed moves. The dark tattoos peeking out from beneath make me lightheaded like they hold some kind of spell over me. I swear he looks even hotter than the last time I was here, and that’s not something easy to pull off.
He doesn't stop undressing until he's down to just his boxers. Only then does his gaze land on my body, and, in the blink of an eye, he’s next to me. "Raise your hands," he says, grabbing the hem of my dress and yanking it over my head until I'm completely naked.
I feel so fucking exposed that I want to cover myself. But I don’t, even though his hungry eyes drag over every inch of me, making my skin erupt in goosebumps.
I expect him to do something to me. And even though I’m sure I don’t want him to touch me... the fact that he doesn’t kind of pisses me off.
As if to make it worse, he pulls out one of his shirts from a shelf and starts dressing me by slipping it over my head.
He’s so unpredictable, I can never anticipate his next move. And that messes with my mind at the ultimate level.
Last time I was in his bedroom, I had doubts about whether I really wanted him or not. No doubts now. Now I'm just fucking wet, especially after that little stunt he pulled on the plane.
"Get in bed," he orders, and I happily oblige, snuggling between the sheets, just glad to be in a bed again—even if it's Set's.
After turning off the light, he joins me, slinging a heavy arm around my waist and drawing me toward him like I'm his damn stuffed animal. I really never know what to expect from him–or from myself lately. My body’s restless beneath the sheets, hyper-aware of his presence, as if it’s preparing to endure some kind of blissful torment. But the real torment comes in just a couple ofminutes. Everything goes numb, and his breath deepens, which tells me he's fallen asleep.
I’ve never seen him fall asleep so fast; like he's been restless for too long and finally found some peace.
Since I'm tired too, I let my eyes close, and for some strange reason, I don't feel anxious, despite everything that happened up til today. I feel at peace, like things are the way they were supposed to be, even if I'm here against my will, again.
I don't even know how long we slept. It’s probably close to midday, and I have a feeling Set didn’t move just so he wouldn’t wake me.
I stay in bed for another hour, and he still doesn't move. It's only when I get up to go to the bathroom that he starts stirring, but I manage to take a shower before he's fully awake.
"Coffee?" I ask, hoping it’s a good enough excuse to get out of the bedroom before he calls me back to bed, because, to be honest, I won't be able to resist him.
Not sureI even want to resist him.
"I’m gonna hit the shower first," he says, sliding out from beneath the sheets, lazily stretching his arms like he’s showing off his pristine condition.
Damn him and his perfect body.
"I'll be in the kitchen." I slip away before he can slip in another word and start making coffee for both of us.
Luckily, I still remember how the espresso machine works, and by the time he’s out of the shower, our steaming mugs are waiting for us.
There's an awkward tension between us. Like, with the first thing I say, I might make him snap. And I’m not wrong to think that. "I haven't seen the guards around," I say, noting how eerily quiet the apartment is today.
"Are you planning on running again?" he asks, arching an eyebrow as he sips his coffee.
"No," I say, somewhat repentant—and I mean it.
"I don't let my people in the penthouse anymore, except for the maid, but she announces herself when she comes. I figured you wouldn’t want to be surrounded by my men."
"I don't. Thank you. I was only asking to know if I should find a robe." I add, since the T-shirt he gave me is a little too see-through to be walking around like that.
I was expecting some witty line about me not wearing clothes at all or something to get on my nerves. Instead, he seems to be distracted by something else. "How's the leg?" He looks at me with the same coldness he's showed ever since I came back.
"It's better." I step from behind the kitchen island so he can see it. I took the bandage off in the shower and I haven't put a new one on yet.
"Don't cover it for a few hours. It needs to breathe." That’s the last thing he says before walking off to the living room to look over some papers.
I know he’s not much of a talker but I’m starting to think I prefer arguing with him to this weird silence. Never thought that him ignoring me could hit me that hard.
Still wrapped up in work, he orders food for both of us. Just in time, I was starting to get hungry, and I don't think he trusts mycooking skills too much. Not that he’d have any reason to. I don’t trust them either.
After we finish eating, I ask him if I can go to my old bedroom and grab some clothes since I can't wear the same shirt for the rest of my life. I leave the second part out and get his approval, even if it comes with a small grunt.
