Sinful (Undone) Read online

  We wave and head to the bar.

  Of course everything is free, and Gwen and I take full advantage. Now that my reckoning is drawing near, nerves dance in my stomach, and I need to relax. We order shots of Patrón in honor of our college days and then margaritas so we don’t mix alcohol.

  “So tonight’s the night?” Gwen takes a sip and surveys the crowd. Gwen is like super model gorgeous, and between the two of us we’re causing quite the stir.

  I do a sideways glance in the direction I last saw Leo. Still talking to the blonde.

  That jerk doesn’t even know I’m here.

  “Tonight’s the night.” I nod. I will not be thwarted. Gwen knows all about my plans and my promises to move on if I fail. She’s sworn to go hard-core on me if that happens. Zero tolerance for anything Leo related. I smooth a hand over my stomach. “What do you think?”

  “I have faith in you.” Gwen tilts her head and it sends her hair swaying over one shoulder. “But remember, sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for.”

  I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

  Gwen flashes a dazzling smile at the guy across the bar, and then shrugs. “All I mean is that you don’t really know him. If he goes for this, the real guy might not live up to the guy you’ve conjured in your fantasies.”

  I wrinkle my nose and nod. I’m no dummy, and of course, she’s one-hundred-percent right. It’s actually an argument I’ve made to myself a million times. On occasion, I’ve even followed it, but then I see him again. I catch the spark of awareness on the air between us, and I fall right back into my infatuation.

  I sigh. “I know, but the only way to find that out is to take the plunge, and it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  The cute guy from across the bar gives Gwen a long, slow smile and when she returns it with a flirty look, he starts the path over. Gwen winks at me. “One more shot and then you go get him, deal?”

  “Deal.” I glance over to where Leo stands, his head bent, talking to the blonde. His hair is dark, almost black, matching the depth of his eyes.

  Tonight’s the night. I either go big, or go home.

  Leo

  I make a very good show of hiding it, but the second Jillian walks through the door it’s like some sort of internal sonar is flipped on, sending out waves through the air.

  It’s been that way since the moment I laid eyes on her all those years ago. I still remember with vivid clarity the first time I saw her, before I knew she was my best friend’s baby sister. Therefore permanently off limits.

  I’d stood on stage, the bright Chicago sun glaring against my dark uniform as I graduated from the academy, my family beaming at me from the audience. My youngest of three sisters, Talia, waved frantically and I winked, attempting to remain serious and cop-like. Jillian was two rows back, her hair a dark cascade over her shoulders, a wide smile on her very fuckable lips as she laughed at something the person next to her said. She’d worn a sleeveless powder-blue dress that cut in a V down the slope of her breasts and clung to her tall, curvy frame. Everything about her was lush, strong and gorgeous.

  My first thought was that she looked like the kind of girl I’d like to hurt.

  In a good way, that would drive her crazy and make her come all over the place, but still a fucked-up thought by most people’s standards. I take my sex hard, rough and a bit cruel. I like to control and bend a woman to my will. I like her wanton and begging. Mad with uncontrollable, all-consuming lust, and there is just something about Jillian that calls to that dominant, slightly sadistic part of me like she’s crack.

  One look at her and I stopped paying attention to the ceremony and started plotting how I’d seduce her back to my house. She looked like she could take what I dished out and I wanted to manhandle her. Use my mouth and hands and teeth in the most visceral, tactile way possible. I was already envisioning the strike of my palm on her ass, and how she’d feel, tight around my cock, as I’d fuck her right into oblivion.

  So I stood there, and instead of soaking in the accomplishment of a goal I’d been planning since the day my twin brother was murdered, I could only watch her, and count the minutes until I could meet her.

  That plan got screwed six ways to Sunday when she turned out to be my best friend’s little sister. Maybe some guys could overlook that, but Michael is the closest thing I have to a brother, and after losing my real one, I’m not willing to risk it. It’s bad enough to lose a brother, but to lose a twin…well, it’s like part of you is missing and I don’t need any more parts of me chipped away.

  Besides, while Jillian might make me want to do all sorts of depraved acts to her, she has never once exhibited any tendencies toward submission, except for her persistent interest in me. Although she has no idea what I am, or what I’ll do to her, I sometimes wonder if she scents something on the air. But other than that, I pick up nothing so I can only assume that’s chemistry.

  Of which we have in spades.

  Once upon a time I convinced myself I could ignore it, ignore her, but all that repressed attraction and simmering, just-below-the-surface passion has consequences. We are part friends, part antagonists, and part powder keg waiting for the first signs of a spark to detonate. It makes for some interesting times, especially when Jillian goes into seduction mode.

  Too many times to count she’s almost broken me. But then I remember—she’s not what I need her to be. And I’m not the man she wants or deserves. I want her enough that sometimes I can convince myself I can play it straight for her, that I can be the kind of man she needs, but then I think of all the things I itch to do to her and know that’s impossible. She just calls to that part of me too strongly. There’s always the chance it’s hidden away, locked inside her, but I make it a rule to stick to women who understand what I expect, and what I’m willing to give them. I provide them the control they crave and screaming orgasms. In return they understand that while we are together I don’t fuck around, but I’m one-hundred-percent temporary. A man to fill in while they wait for their Dom in shining armor.

  Snap. Fingers fly in front of my face in a blur.

  I blink Patty Driscol into focus. She’s a hot little blonde that works the front desk down at the station. She’s sexy, flirty and loves attention. The guys go crazy for her, but it seems she’s only got eyes for me. Probably because I’m not interested and she’s the kind of woman that likes to make everything a challenge.

  I shake my head. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  Her expression darkens with what I can only presume is annoyance. “I asked if you wanted to dance.”

  “Thanks, honey.” I hold up a bottle of one of Chicago’s many IPAs and take a sip. “Maybe later after some more beer.”

  She puffs out her bottom lip and leans in, letting her large chest brush my arm. It’s a practiced move, one she’s probably done a thousand times because it works, but has zero effect on me. “Pretty please.”

  God save me from this woman. I’m actually a pretty nice guy and I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but she doesn’t take the hints I’m flashing in neon in her direction. I lift my chin to the crowd in back of her. “There are plenty of guys that will dance with you.” I give her an affable smile. “Probably some girls too.”

  She does some sort of hungry tour over my face and body. “Do you like that sort of thing? Because I could get into that.”

  I resist the sigh. Didn’t anyone work up to threesomes anymore? When did that become an introductory offer? Not that I have anything against convenient sex, hell, I took advantage of it, and blessed sexual liberation more than a few times. I’m not one of those guys that manwhored around and then slut shamed the woman who’d given me her body. But there’s no mystery anymore. No challenge.

  Except for Jillian, whom I refuse to lay a finger on.

  From above Patty’s head I catch a glimpse of the woman in question over by the bar with her friend, Gwen. She’s wearing that fuck-me dress, with those fuck-me shoes. Her hair is
wild around her shoulders, her mouth obscene. Her legs go on for miles and I can envision them locked and shaking around my waist.

  My fingers tighten around the bottle. Everything about the way she looks causes caveman-like thoughts. I want to go over there and demand she change right this instant. I want to bend her over a table, lift up her skirt and smack the hell out of her ass for torturing me. I want to drag her to the bathroom, pound into her so she feels me for days, before I come all over her.

  I want her marked.

  “Well?” Patty’s voice is attempting to be seductive, but I can hear the first threads of irritation underneath.

  I chuck her under the chin. “You know my policy.” I’ve used the—I don’t mix business with pleasure—routine on her countless times to no avail.

  She brushes her nipples over my arm and her nails walk a path up my biceps. “I’m positive I can change your mind.”

  God help me, it’s going to be a long fucking night.

  Jillian

  After my liquid courage, I leave Gwen to her prey. The guy is cute, charming, and affable. Poor thing. Gwen ate men like him for breakfast, but that was his problem, I had bigger problems to contend with, namely my increasing nerves.

  I’d already planned out what I was going to do, but my plans with Leo always go awry and, despite my shots and half a drink, I figure this time wouldn’t be any different.

  Regardless of how I want it to be.

  But I can’t focus on that. I must focus on closure.

  The first order of business is to actually catch his attention and since he stood near the bathrooms, that shouldn’t be too hard. I put an extra sway in my step, tossing my hair over my shoulder. With purpose, I walk toward my goal.

  The crowd parts like I’m parting the Red Sea, confirming I look plenty delectable, but as I make my way through the room, my confidence flags. I’ve looked good before, but I was never able to sway him, was I fooling myself that this time would be any different?

  I take a deep breath and slowly exhale.

  It didn’t matter what he did, I was going to do things differently and let the chips fall where they may. I’ve got it all mapped out. I’m not going to hint, bat my lashes, or attempt any other such nonsense.

  No, I’m going to flat out tell him my plans.

  He can either take it or leave it.

  I’m sure he’ll leave it, but I don’t care, I have to give it one more shot.

  Then, I’m done.

  He comes into my line of sight. He’s still talking to that woman and a part of me wants to turn around and walk away, but I can’t do that. I’m not a coward. I’m a modern woman and I go after what I want.

  Be bold, Jillian.

  I stare in his direction and all the sudden he lifts his head from the blonde, narrows his gaze, and locks onto me.

  I force myself to keep going, despite the urge to falter and stall.

  He shifts his attention over my body, and his mouth curls in what I can only guess is disapproval.

  I force myself to keep going until I’m standing in front of him. I smile and nod. “Hey, Leo.”

  “Jillian,” he says, in that low-toned voice I’ve convinced myself he reserves just for me.

  The blonde gives me a disgusted look and points at me. “Who’s this?”

  Leo flicks another glance over me. “This is Jillian Banks. Michael’s sister.”

  My adversary laces her arm through Leo’s and horror flashes through me. Oh no, is she his date? Why hadn’t I anticipated he’d bring a date?

  This messes up all my plans. Damn him. Isn’t it just like him to thwart me without even trying? I’m not so mean and desperate I’d make my final move while he’s distracted with a date. I smile sweetly. “And who might you be?”

  I might be a struggling waitress with a propensity for flighty career decisions, but I’m a born and bred Chicago, Northshore girl and can cat it up with the best of them.

  “The name’s Patty.” She gives me the evil eye.

  She knows I’m competition and she’s threatened. Which means whatever her relationship is with Leo, it’s not secure enough, so I still have my chance.

  “It’s lovely to meet you,” I say in the voice I’ve heard my mom use while talking on the phone with one of the women from her club. I’m not above fishing for information. “How did you and Leo meet?”

  Leo raises a brow at me then shakes his head.

  Patty (What a stupid name. Leo should not be calling out Patty in his sinful voice. That would be a complete waste.) turns her nose up at me. “We’re old friends.”

  That doesn’t give me any information at all, as I’m sure she intended.

  I tower over her, and I’m not above using my height to make her feel small. I try again. “What a coincidence. I’ve known Leo since he was in the academy with my brother. So you know what a doll he is.”

  Doll is the last word any woman would use to describe Leo. He’s more a mix of extremely cute mixed with a hint of danger and mystery I still can’t figure out.

  Leo gives me another once over, but it’s not filled with any of the lust I’m looking for, no it’s filled with annoyance. Like I’m irritating him. “Patty works at the station.”

  I manage to mask my triumph. Ha. Not a date. Just a regular, ol’ coworker with a crush. I frown. Well, technically the same could be said for me, but that’s totally different. I smile. “I see.”

  Leo looks at Patty and nods. “Can you give us a minute?”

  I will not smirk.

  I’ve won and we both know it. And that’s good enough for me.

  Her overly bright expression falls and I can’t help it, I suddenly feel bad for her. I’ve had that feeling over Leo far too many times too count not to sympathize. But these are battle conditions, and while I understand, I cannot show mercy.

  “Sure,” she says, her tone full of false cheer. She points over to a group of women sitting at a table. “I’ll be over there when you’re done.”

  “Have fun, Patty.” He takes a swig of his beer and watches her walk away.

  Annoyed that he can’t seem to take his eyes off her ass, I say, “And what can I do for you, Leo?”

  He slowly shifts his attention back to me, all traces of amusement gone. “You can tell me exactly what the hell you think you’re doing.”

  I wave a hand at the party. “Um, celebrating my brother’s birthday, obviously.”

  His gaze rakes over my body. “Where’s the rest of your dress?”

  Okay, so he had noticed. At least that was something. I shift on my heels. “What? Don’t you like it?”

  “No, I do not.” His jaw is hard, his eyes a flat black.

  Okay, stupidly a secret part of me hoped he’d be consumed with lust, but clearly that isn’t going to happen. But I can’t back down now. I’ve promised Gwen and Heather. I’ve promised myself. Determined to trudge on, I square my shoulders. “Then don’t look at me.”

  “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?” He straightens and glowers, managing to make me feel like he’s looking down at me. Quite a feat, considering in my heels, we’re eye level. “After all, you wore it for me.”

  It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

  Nerves slither down my spine and I swallow down my unease. This is what I both love and hate about him, this sense he can handle me. That he’ll somehow call me on my bullshit. It’s an odd thing to be attracted to, but it’s one of the most compelling things about him.

  Of course, we’ve had conversations like this before, and this is usually the time I say something coy and flirtatious in an effort to lure him to me, but that never works, and direct is my final battle strategy. “Yes, I did.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s not going to work, Jillian.”

  “What’s not going to work?”

  “This has to stop.”

  “I wore a dress, Leo, big deal.” I look away from him.

  “You’re a gorgeous girl—”

  I hold up m
y hand. “You can stop right there. I’ve heard this before.”

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t think of you that way.”

  I square my shoulders and look him right in the eyes. “You’re a liar. You think you can fool me, but I know.”

  Okay, this isn’t quite going how I’d mapped it all out in my head, but at least it’s different. It’s as though we’ve reached some sort of breaking point and aren’t willing to pretend anymore.

  “And what exactly do you think you know?” He’s giving me that dark, hard-eyed stare meant to intimidate.

  It doesn’t work. I just stare right back. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

  The air seems to still around us, growing thick with tension.

  “You’re my best friend’s little sister, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” He delivers the words with a distinct bite.

  I let my attention drift to his mouth then shrug. “Whatever.”

  He chuckles and leans back against the wall, sliding his hand into his pants pocket. “You are not going to break me.”

  I smile, slow and sweet, and hold up my hands. “Oh, you can rest easy, that’s not what this is about.”

  Now it’s his turn to smirk. “Do tell.”

  This is it. I toss my hair over my shoulder and stand straight and proud. “I’m here to tell you that you win. I surrender.”

  Something flickers deep in his gaze. An expression I can’t even begin to decipher passes over his features.

  Before he can speak I go on. “I’m officially done chasing you. You win. I lose. I’m done pursuing a man who claims he doesn’t want me. You get your wish. From now on I will behave like the little sister you say you want me to be. So congratulations, I’m heeding your advice and moving on. I’m done.”

  His features are unreadable.

  A sudden wave of nausea rolls through me, and I regret the Patrón. The acceptance sinks deep into my bones. He might want me. But it’s not enough.

  As he said, he’ll never break, at least not for me.

  I smooth a hand over my stomach, the silky fabric clinging to my body. “So you want to know what the dress is about. I’ll tell you. I wanted to look my very best as I walk away.”