The Other Side of Greed (The Seven Sins #5) - Lily Zante Page 0,60
way. In a possessive way. In an I’ve-got-to-have-her way.
She ignores my compliment and comes over to my side. When she bends over and pulls open her drawer, my attention falls to her back and her compass tattoo again. I’ve never been with a woman who has ink on her body. I’ve never been with a woman like Kyra, and now I want her even more than before.
She has a beauty on the outside that matches what’s inside, and she has the biggest heart of anyone I know.
Jessica couldn’t hold a candle to her.
My cock twitches. As Kyra rummages around, the throbbing between my legs intensifies. This is awkward.
“What are you looking for?” Not that I should be asking her. She should be asking me what the hell I’m doing sitting in her chair.
She pulls out what look like a couple of lipsticks. “I’m so late,” she wails, oblivious to the effect she’s having on me. My heart lurches as she opens and swivels the lipsticks one by one, presumably to check the color, but with her back to me, I can see clearly the tattoo on her back, between her shoulder blades. I reach out and touch it, not caring that I’ve invaded her space. She flinches, as if the shock is electric, then bends over and rummages through her drawer again.
“Your tattoo. It’s a … compass.” I try to compose myself. “Why’s that, Lewis? Are you lost?” I venture a casual laugh that I don’t feel. The moment is hot, sparky and weighted with the boulder of desire which is suddenly too big for me to ignore.
She turns to look at me, her smoldering eyes burning into me, causing a chain reaction that threatens to explode. I’m going to turn into a jabbering wreck, unable to string together a coherent sentence if she stays here any longer.
As if she can sniff out my weakness, she tilts her head, observing my reaction. “Not anymore.”
I hold my breath, wanting her to elaborate, wanting to ask her but my tongue seems to have stopped working and my mouth has dried up. It’s only my eyes that function, raking down the length of her. My gaze naturally drifts to her sun tattoo, then to her spaghetti straps, then my brain starts to wonder if her bra is strapless or something else. All this in the space of a few seconds. I wish I was going with her.
“Not anymore?” I manage to ask. She’s wearing a touch of makeup. Her lashes are thick and long, her lips moist and pouty. Her skin is velvety. I wish I hadn’t turned down the invitation tonight. I suddenly don’t like the idea of Kyra being at city hall, around Elias Cardoza. I don’t see how anyone can resist her looking the way she does, and the chances of Cardoza talking to Kyra this evening are a dead cert.
She turns to leave and it sends my hormones into a tailspin, seeing her back, the silken skin, and those pipe-thin straps.
“I never had you pegged for being into tattoos.” This is my pathetic attempt to catch her attention, to need an answer that makes her face me once more.
She stops, turns and tilts her head, as if she’s considering whether to tell me or not. My breath hitches in my throat. It feels like a secret, and now I want to be her best friend so that I can hear it.
“I wasn’t. My ex was. He had them all over. I was curious, so I got this first.” She touches the sun on her shoulder. Involuntarily, I lick my lower lip. “Then he convinced me to get a rosebud tattoo.” She rolls her eyes as if she regrets it. The whole time she’s talking, I picture tasting those lips.
I fold my arms, as if this will help stem the flow of blood from rushing south. “Convinced you? I didn’t think anyone could convince you. You’re a woman who knows her own mind.”
“Love,” she says, with a shrug, as if it was a huge mistake which now means nothing. Her face turns serious. “We were together for four years, and he cheated on me for three of them. I dumped him the day I found out. Three years of my life with a cheat. It knocked me for six. Left me lost and broken, but Redhill gave me direction. This ...” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder, “is to remind me that I’m on a journey, an adventure, even,