Page 75 of Sins of a King
“Will I like it?”
I grinned. Naughty. Just a bit dirty. “Oh, yeah. You’ll like it.”
When I was sure that Flynn was settled in his booth with a drink, I slipped up to his hotel suite. He’d left the diamond collar and bracelets in his bedside drawer. I’d refused to wear them the other night when we’d gone to Marino’s, not realizing they would’ve helped me play a role and given Flynn an edge. Tonight, I wore them for him. Because I trusted Flynn, and I wanted him to know it.
I sat on my haunches in the middle of the bed, wearing a matching black lace bra and underwear set, the diamond collar at my neck, and the bracelets on my wrists.
For some reason, I was nervous. Submitting to him—in all the ways I wasn’t accustomed to—frightened me. And I didn’t do frightened very well.
I heard the elevator doors open and Flynn called out, “Barrett?”
“In here!” I was glad my voice didn’t shake.
Flynn came into the bedroom and halted. His gaze rested on the collar before dropping lower. His eyes gleamed wickedly. “Nice underwear. Take it off.”
I was unpacking my clothes in my newly acquired drawer of Flynn’s dresser when the elevator doors chimed. It was Lacey, holding a tray of brownies.
“You made those?” I asked in surprise.
Lacey gave me a full, red-lipped smile and shook her head, sending expensively dyed caramel waves over her shoulder. “Do I look like the baking type?”
“Not at all.”
“How’s the moving in?” she asked.
“I’m not moving in.”
“Right. Okay.”
“I’m not. He gave me a drawer and part of his closet.”
“In his private penthouse suite. That’s not normal Flynn Campbell behavior.”
“Whatisnormal Flynn Campbell behavior?” I demanded.
“Since you showed up? I have absolutely no idea.”
We had a laugh and then she cut into the tray of brownies, handing me one. She glanced around the living room and said, “He never decorated.”
“Ah, I guess he didn’t.”
“It looks like every other one of his hotel suites. You should make it homey.”
“It’s not my home, though. It’s Flynn’s home, and I don’t want to go about changing stuff.”
“Honey, you’ve already changed stuff.”
I tried to beat down the emotions that threatened to come up and choke me.
Lacey reached for a brownie as she glanced at my untouched one. “Don’t like brownies?”
“Don’t like chocolate,” I explained.
“You’re crazy,” she said, polishing off the brownie in a few bites. “I have an amazing black and white photography series I think you’d like. I can donate it to the cause of making this place look more lived-in.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ll bring them by.”
