Sinner (The Hades Squad #1) Read Online Free Page B

civilized person.”
    “Yes, ma'am,” Lincoln replied, nipping the insides of his cheeks to suppress his victorious grin.
    Methinks my Destiny's protesting too much.
    Her throat worked and he drank in the sweet dishevelment she presented, face flushed, a thin film of sweat dampening the curls escaping from hair piled high on her head. The spoon's velocity increased. She swept him quick side-glances and chewed her bottom lip, until he couldn't resist tracing the outline of her mouth. She jumped, and her eyebrows climbed. The spoon dripped liquid onto the floor.
    “What…what are you doing?”
    “This,” he answered, holding her chin. He brushed his lips against hers, a languid, electrifying contact. He held her gaze, drowning in the black lagoons of her eyes, tasting the wine gravy she'd sucked off his finger, feeling the way her nose vibrated when she inhaled and exhaled. Her pupils widened, and something flickered in her eyes. Fear?
    Lincoln retreated, relinquishing her flesh. “I'll bring the bowls.”
    Destiny spun around to face the stove, her hand jerking a trail of red-brown gravy on the range's stainless steel surface.
    Suppressing a victorious yes! Lincoln moved over to the table. Stage one—accustom her to his touch—complete.
    He'd set up his rechargeable iPod mini sound system on the counter before alerting her to his presence in the kitchen. Destiny had a tendency to withdraw into a dream world, he noted. She hadn't heard his footsteps or his movements as she stirred the pot and sighed, tilted her head to one side, and hummed under her breath.
    After she filled the wide bowls he brought to the stove, Destiny shifted and attempted to take one.
    “You sit.” Lincoln smiled. He issued the command in a gentle tone. “You did all the cooking.”
    He inclined his head and waited for her to precede him. He let his eyes rove over her ripe curves, her mouth-watering hips, cinched waist, and Jesus Murphy, breasts made for fucking.
    When she sat in a prim little black-spectacled-librarian manner, he choked back a guffaw. Destiny acted as if she’d spent her adulthood trying to deny a sexuality seething and threatening to boil over. He unfolded the cute envelope-shaped-napkin, and draped the linen across her lap, deliberately trailing his fingers across both thighs.
    The hue of the stain flaming across her cheeks triggered a memory of his mother setting a pair of cushions she termed “damask rose” into each corner of the living room sofa. Destiny blushed damask rose.
    Linc grabbed the wine bottle and edged closer to the table so his knee brushed her hip.
    Damask rose deepened into a ripe cherry, the color tinting every inch of exposed flesh.
    Ten to one her pussy lips turn that shade after I've licked and suckled them swollen.
    Damask rose. Jesus, he was getting soft in his old age.
    His brain restarted before he overfilled the wine goblet.
    An enchanting picture met his gaze when he sat. Destiny's black curls tumbled loose from the clip, her olive skin glowing, midnight eyes wide and a tad unfocused, nostrils flaring when her lungs expanded. Jesus . His mind faltered. The slight bounce of her breasts as her small pants stammered and stuttered drew his nuts tight against his perineum. Christ, he had to speed the pace of this seduction before he lost control.
    “Cheers.” He lifted his glass.
    Her hand shook when she reached across to clink his crystal goblet.
    “Cheers,” she echoed, then gulped down a third of the glass before setting it on the table.
    Lincoln figured she'd be a lightweight drinker, so he made a note to monitor her consumption. He wanted Destiny to remember every millisecond of their first time together. First time? Would there be a second time after he taught her how he liked his sex?
    “So, you're a big-time New York editor.” He loaded a spoon with meat and peered at the carrot and potato that came along for the ride. “Did you cut these into logs?”
    Damn, her cheeks covered every