Staying in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 1) - Page 48

“Rafe texted you,” he states.

My stomach sinks a little, hearing that and knowing he’s reading the message. “Oh?”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “I’m deleting it.”

“Okay.”

“If he asks why you didn’t respond, it’s more interesting if you didn’t care, so I’m not going to tell you what it said. Tell him you deleted the message without reading it.”

“It’s more interesting?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s a strange thing to say.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He plugs the charger into my phone and opens the bedside drawer, grabbing my second leather cuff.

“Do we have to?” I ask, looking up at him. “Couldn’t you leave me uncuffed tonight? I’m not going to leave.”

“Why?” he asks idly.

“I don’t know. I’m naked, for one thing. Secondly, I have a lot of questions I’ll never get answers to if I leave now. Perhaps most importantly, you said we’d get the best Chinese takeout in Vegas for dinner tonight, but we had to go hang out with Rafe instead, so you kind of owe me.” I punctuate with an apologetic shrug.

I see him considering, but he ultimately grabs my wrist and affixes the other cuff around it anyway. I sigh, giving him a baleful stare. He catches me mean-mugging him and tells me, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Then give me one night without the cuffs. My wrists need a break. I’ll stay close so you can feel me in the bed,” I offer, though honestly, that’s sort of more for me than him. I have no idea if he even wants to sleep close to me, but I do. I’m post-orgasmic here and I want a cuddle.

“How close?” he asks.

It’s ridiculous, but between his bare chest, those gorgeous brown eyes of his, and his tone as he asks, I feel a little twinge between my legs. I assume he jerked off in the shower so he probably got it out of his system and won’t fuck me, but one never knows what cuddling could lead to.

“As close as you want me,” I offer. Then I add, “You know, for the purposes of setting your mind at ease. No other reason.”

He cracks a little smile. “Naturally.”

I hold up my bound wrists and muster puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

His dark eyes narrow, then he sighs and reaches for the key. “One night.”

I grin, holding up my wrists for him to free me. “Thank you. You’re the best captor ever.”

“In fairness, you’re the best captive ever,” he acknowledges.

He takes my cuffs off, then walks over to the laundry basket in the corner and tugs his towel off, tossing it inside. My tummy muscles tighten at the sight of his perfect ass. I love his body. All lean muscle, so strong and capable. I want to feel him on top of me again. It’s a shame that the night I did he was freaking me out; I didn’t even get to enjoy it.

God, I hope he likes to cuddle. I want to curl up close to him so badly, and I’m not even sure why. He did something to my brain before that shower, bossing me around without words, then denying me—sorta. I feel tangled up, but it somehow doesn’t feel mean.

I think Sin is a complicated man. Maybe I’m making him more complicated than he is in my head. Maybe I just have a weakness for sexually capable men, and I didn’t know they actually existed in the wild before I fell into the Morelli trap, as Carly has referred to it.

Well, Sin isn’t a Morelli, but he does work for them, so I’m still gonna call it that.

I should find out what his first name is. I only know his surname is Sinclair. That’s Scottish, not Italian. I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland.

“Have you ever been to Scotland?” I ask.

Sin stares at me like I’ve just grown another head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“I just wondered because of your surname. You have powerful Scottish roots.”

“Hooray for me,” he says dryly.

“If I ever have internet access again, I’m gonna look it up. I wanna see which tartan belongs to your clan. I’ll buy you one for Christmas. Well, I won’t be here for Christmas, but I’ll send it to you along with your very own ironic coffee mug. I have a book of Scottish tartans at home. I don’t even know why, I think the cover was pretty. Sometimes I make weird choices when I’m at the bookstore. The takeaway here is, you probably shouldn’t take me to the bookstore. Also, expect a Christmas present from me.”

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