Page 86 of Gentleman Sinner


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My gentleman sinner. ‘I want you, too,’ I say, and he smiles, closing his eyes and placing the wet skin of his forehead against mine.

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. I can feel his appreciation, hear it in his calming breathing, and smell it in the thick scent of sex in the air. And I wonder . . . is he speaking in code? I’ve fallen for him, so fucking hard, but for the first time, I think about how Theo sees me. How he feels. Am I just a strange fascination to him, because he finds himself hyperaware of me and my touch? Because he craves it? Likes it? My heart sinks a little, because I wish for so much more from him. Then he drops the most tender of kisses on my lips and my heart lifts again. I’m being stupid. He’s given me no reason to doubt his intentions. Even his psycho behaviour speaks of a man who cares.

‘Let’s get ready. You can come with me today.’ He peels his body away from mine and gets up off the bed. I quickly prop myself up on my elbows so I can indulge in the delight of his naked back as he strides to the bathroom. I cross one leg over the other and ogle the striking definition, my gaze climbing up his thighs, over the perfect swell of his arse, up to his back. I tilt my head and get a few precious seconds to admire his tattoo before he disappears through the doorway. I collapse back to the bed and smile. ‘Where are we going?’ I call, hearing the spray of the shower kick in.

‘I have a few errands to run.’

What errands does a man like Theo Kane run? ‘I need clothes.’

‘Then we’ll stop by your place.’ He appears at the door with a razor in his hand, a cheeky grin spanning his face. ‘Do you think Callum strangled Jess or fucked her?’

I bolt upright on the bed and mentally run through last night. When it comes back to me, I throw wide, wary eyes at Theo. He nods, silently telling me that I remember right, before he returns to the bathroom. I’m up like a bullet. ‘Which is more likely?’ I ask, joining him by the Jack and Jill sink.

He swishes the water around the bowl, looking at me in the reflection of the mirror. My unabashed curiosity is clear, and Theo seems to find it amusing. ‘Knowing Callum, probably both.’

My expression morphs into horror as Theo chuckles, flipping the tap off. ‘Knowing Callum? What, does murdering someone while he fucks them turn him on?’ I’m getting very worried for my friend. I’ve not been able to read Callum from the second I met him, but his capabilities are pretty clear. He’s as dangerous as Theo, if a little more in control of himself.

‘He’s not very patient.’

‘I need to ring Jess.’ I leave Theo at the sink to go in search of my phone.

‘Hold up, panicky pants.’ Theo catches my wrist and pulls me back. ‘He won’t hurt her.’

‘ “Panicky pants”?’ I’ve never heard such a hard nut use such a wussy phrase.

He heaves his exasperation and returns to the mirror. ‘It’s you. I turn into a pansy-talking pussycat when you’re around.’

His admission stirs an unreasonable amount of satisfaction in my tummy, and I jump up on to the counter of the sink to watch him shave. I sit up straight, my hands in my lap. ‘Is he involved with someone?’

‘Callum is involved with many someones.’ He squirts some shaving gel in his palm before smoothing it over the roughness of his stubble.

‘Oh,’ I breathe. ‘Like dancers?’

‘Like dancers,’ he confirms. ‘He’s my friend, but he’s not exactly chivalrous.’

I snort on an unattractive laugh. ‘Sounds like someone I know.’

Theo’s hands slow over his stretched neck, his eyes lazily turning on to me. ‘Do I not treat you like a queen?’

‘Yes, but you fuck me like a whore.’ I’m not complaining. However, Theo’s reference to Callum’s bed habits has me all curious, not only for my friend and the man who has caught her eye, but for me and the man who has my heart. Did Theo sleep with the dancers? Did he see them as easy access? His bed companions. I definitely can’t imagine any of them turned down the pile of leanness before me.

‘No,’ he says out of the blue.

‘No what?’

‘No, I haven’t slept with any of the girls who work for me.’

‘Did you read my mind?’

‘Yes.’ He turns back to the mirror and leans in, checking the coverage of shaving cream on his face. ‘Keep those racing thoughts of yours under control, sweetheart.’

I bite at the inside of my cheek, watching as he collects his razor and swishes it in the water. Has he ever treated another woman like a queen?

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