His Sweetest Sin Read online

  It’s a promise, not just his words but the hunger in his eyes. Holy fuck. Me. Chris Baldwin, the baddest boy in baseball, wants me. Amelia Bishop, fat, broken, and maybe a solid seven on a good day before I put on the weight, but now...hold on, he likes my body? I made his cock hard. Seriously?

  The phone buzzes again. Shit. “I’m coming, Mary.” I don’t have time to get all gooey about a guy who, no matter how hot he is, is completely off-limits. Not just because he’s a client—his casual attitude about sex isn’t something I can handle. Besides, I’d disappoint him so quickly he would run for the nearest exit. With a sigh, I shut down Ethan’s computer before going to deal with the very uncomplicated Michael Seaton.

  2

  Chris

  Walking away from Amelia Bishop isn’t easy, not least on account of my cock is still hard from the sight of her. Damn, finding her bent over the filing cabinet with her sweet round ass at the perfect level for me to step behind her...shit, just like when I saw her my cock jumps. To keep from embarrassing myself I said something I can’t even remember to get her to stand up. Then she turned and, fuck, she made my whole body hard.

  She has dangerous curves, a lush body a man could get lost in for days. I was already lost when my eyes met hers, hazel eyes flared a bright green for a moment before she blinked, then the green was gone, replaced by a shimmering mix of toffee and moss. I’m going to see the green again, I’ll make sure of it.

  Her wide, soft mouth opened in astonishment when she saw me, and all I thought of was fitting my cock between the perfect O of those lips. It didn’t take long before her small, gently pointed chin came up in defiance. All of her features are classic, from her thin small nose, to her high cheekbones, and her oval face a perfect cameo. A beautiful face and a body to die for, then she opened her mouth with her smart-ass remarks and I was sold. Whatever the price, I’m buying.

  I stop at the reception desk in front of the elevators. A peroxide blonde is smiling before I even get within ten feet. She hadn’t been here when I came in. As pretty as she thinks she is, she pales in comparison to the hottest piece of ass I’ve laid my eyes on in a long damn time. Amelia Bishop...the thought of her is making my cock hard all over again. “Hey there, sweetie. How are you doing today?”

  She giggles as she leans forward to push her breasts out, “I’m awesome. How are you doing today, Mr. Baldwin? Did you have a good New Year?”

  “I did, I did. Thank you for asking. One thing though, I forgot to ask Miss Bishop something, it is “miss,” isn’t it? She’s not married, is she?”

  Her laughter is mean. “No, just to her job and cheesecake.”

  Keeping the smile on my face isn’t easy. “She was going into a meeting, I don’t want to disturb her. Where is her office and her secretary?”

  “She’s in the opposite corner from her brother’s office. Is there anything I can help you with?” The invitation drips with sexual intent.

  “No, thank you. You know, you look really familiar. Do you dance at Raoul’s?” I name a strip club with the clientele and dancers both so bottom of the barrel a person probably got an STI walking through the door. Her outrage turns her bright red. “No? Sorry, you had a look about you. You have a nice day, sweetie.”

  I walk down the hallway without encountering Amelia, which was the hope. Leaving first gave her a head start to get wherever she needed to go. When I round the corner, I see while most of the offices along the outside, with the big windows and glass-fronted offices, are full, many of the cubicles in the center are empty.

  This corner office isn’t quite as big as Ethan’s, but it’s still impressive. The woman in front of it is one of those classic beauties who could be anywhere between forty and sixty. Her gray hair gives her a regal appearance. She smiles as I approach her. Her brown eyes are as warm as her smile, and the lie I’d been planning dies on my lips. “Hi, gorgeous, I’m going to throw myself on your mercy. I met your boss and she’s got me twisted seven ways to Sunday. She’s also being an obstinate mule on account of my reputation, which I will admit has been earned, with me enjoying every minute of it. None of that changes my having a mind to get to know her better. You willing to help me out?”

  Her laughter fills the air. “My goodness, you are quite the charmer, aren’t you?” She shakes her head as she grins. “I do believe you ruffled Amelia’s feathers, which hasn’t happened in a very long time. Hmm...I’m not sure if I should or not. While Amelia is long overdue for fun in her life, your reputation does proceed you by a mile, young man.”

  It’s nothing I can refute, so I don’t try. “I’m going after Amelia with or without your help. Although I would be much obliged if I had it. My intentions are anything but pure...well, maybe pure pleasure.”

  She laughs again. “All right, all right. I’ll help you for her as much as yourself. I do believe you are what she needs.”

  “Really?” Sounds intriguing.

  “Doesn’t every good girl need a bad boy to show her all the fun she’s missing out on?”

  “She’s been missing out, has she?”

  Her response is dry. “Amelia’s here from eight in the morning until eight in the evening. Those were the same hours her brother used to work, which she said were ridiculous. Yet, even when she goes home she’s working from home. Aside from spending time with her brother and sister-in-law, she only lives in the books she reads.

  “Amelia Bishop is a good girl down to her pinky toe, when it comes to men and having fun. Fair warning, she is still a lawyer and a better one than she thinks she is, therefore she is not above being manipulative and sneaky to get her way. The woman can hold her own, have no doubt about that. Except when it comes to her personal life.” She sighs. “Amelia doesn’t have the best instincts when it comes to men. They’ve either been too old, too bossy, too boring and bland, or even worse, too mean. She’s only dated lawyers, but she hasn’t dated in a while now. For a while she’d do a lunch or coffee date here and there, but then she had the accident, and it’s been crickets ever since.”

  “What kind of accident did she have?” Mary’s face is flooded in remembered pain. Why the hell is my stomach knotting up in apprehension of what she’s about to tell me?

  “A very bad one. Almost eighteen months ago she was struck by a car in the middle of a crosswalk. It was awful. Her left leg was ravaged, she broke it in three different places, and her arm in two places. But the accident didn’t only wreck her body, it wrecked her confidence. She’s always fought with her weight, the way most women do.

  “Only now...she doesn’t think anyone would want her at the weight she is now. Her mother is constantly telling Amelia to lose weight, doing everything from sending athletic equipment to weight-loss fad drinks here to the office. It’s awful, the things the woman has said to her daughter.”

  I’m not prepared for the way hearing about Amelia’s accident has my chest aching. What the hell? It’s easier to focus on my anger toward her mother. Mothers, a double-edged sword of life if ever there was one. It also goes a long way toward explaining Amelia’s inability to comprehend why I would want her. Pretty shitty way of thinking, I’ll change her mind. “Thank you, gorgeous. I appreciate your time and insight. What time will Amelia take her lunch tomorrow?”

  “She doesn’t take a lunch unless it’s a business one. She eats at her desk most days. Tomorrow, her schedule is clear from eleven thirty until two. She usually likes to eat later, from twelve thirty to one would be best.”

  “Good to know, and where would she like to go?”

  “Hmm...” She opens then reads through a scheduling diary taking up her desk. “She hasn’t had Goldfinches in a few weeks, however, her favorite restaurant is Giorgio’s.”

  “Thanks for all the tips. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Walking away, I pull out my phone to store some of the information Mary gave me so I won’t forget. Amelia Bishop is adding up to be quite a puzzle I’m going to enjoy solving. When I pass the reception desk this time,
the blonde is engrossed in her computer screen. I can’t hold in a chuckle as I remember her face. Serves her right.

  I hit save on the information Mary gave me, then do a search on Amelia. A little scrolling has me impressed, Penn State and Harvard with honors. She also represents several big companies here in Chicago. There are dozens of pictures of her with her clients she helps pro-bono at a woman’s legal clinic, with many of the women writing paragraphs full of love for Amelia’s help. Then I get to the information on the accident.

  Shit, what the hell is up with me and my chest twisting at the idea of Amelia in pain? I try to shake it off when I hit the street, but it lingers long after I hail a cab to take me home. The cabbie recognizes me and starts laying into me about last season and how I think this upcoming season is going to go. I shrug a few times before he gives up on me. I’m not in the mood. Amelia is plaguing me. I hadn’t lied to the gorgeous Mary; Amelia Bishop has got me all twisted up. Only now, I’m starting to wonder if going after her is a good idea.

  Amelia’s been through a lot. She has a ton of baggage I’ll have to unload before I can get to her. It’s not all that I’m worried about; I’m not interested in anything other than to have some fun. The longest I can see us hooking up is a few weeks. It’s the first week of January, but already I’ve got spring training on my mind. I only have fun during the off-season, while the season is going on, baseball is my everything.

  For the first time in years, the idea of going after a woman knowing it won’t be for long sends guilt running through me. Usually, the women I fuck are as uninterested in long-term as I am. They’re experienced in no-strings-attached. I’m not cut out for long term, baseball season or not. It’s my own baggage, and I don’t want Amelia thinking it has anything to do with her. Even though I spent all of ten minutes with her, between that time and the things Mary, said it was obvious Amelia knew nothing about sex for fun and pure pleasure. Teaching her promises to be a long, intensely pleasurable and gratifying experience. It also seems like the ultimate sin, to initiate someone as sweet, shiny, and pure as Amelia into wicked, raw, and dirty sex. Fun, yet so very wrong.

  The cabbie slams on the brakes in front of my place. I thank him and hand him a twenty, telling him to keep the change. His surprise when he sees my home is clear. Since it happens often, I don’t pay it any mind. My house is a four square, with stained-glass windows, and all the period features of the year it was built, 1904. I love it. When I saw it on the website I told myself it would be an investment property, it was a lie. The moment I saw it I wanted it for myself.

  Saying goodbye to the glass and chrome condo in the Watertower building six months ago, was something I did without blinking. Now the condo is rented out and I feel at home here for the first time in...ever.

  As I unlock my front door, my phone rings. Checking the display, I don’t recognize the number. I send it to voice mail. I didn’t record the outgoing message, it’s the robotic voice for privacy. If the person leaves a message and it’s not some groupie or fan who got my number, I’ll call them back. Watching the display a message doesn’t come through, but the display does show I’ve missed a call from the number before, November tenth. Hmm, I don’t remember it. Probably just a wrong number. I shrug it off.

  After the freezing cold of Chicago in January, the warmth of the house gets to me fast. I take off my coat and hang it up. Then I take off my sweater as I go upstairs to change. Around the house I prefer to hang out in my boxer briefs, but winter in Chicago doesn’t allow for it unless I want a thousand-dollar-a-month electric bill. I find a well-worn T-shirt and even more worn flannel pajama bottoms. Tossing my clothes in the walk-in closet, I scan it. Something is off.

  My housekeeper is stealing from me. Damn it. After too many times of waking up with shit missing, thinking it was the strippers I brought home, ever since I moved into this house, I took them to a hotel. Where I left them to sleep off the night, usually leaving before the sun was up. Only shit is still coming up missing.

  I text her that she’s fired, consider the shit she stole her last check. I’m not going to go through the hassle of trying to figure out what she took. Cuff links were the usual item when I was in the condo, I’m down to a few studs for my left ear. I have a few diamond studs, like the one in my ear now. I also have some onyx ones, and a few blue sapphires. I’ll deal with finding a new housekeeper later. The argument against me living in a house with five bedrooms and four levels flits through my mind before I stamp it down. This time I’ll go through a service to find someone instead of online.

  My cell rings again, this time I know the number. It’s my lawyer in Austin and I was waiting for his call. “Yeah.”

  “How did it go with Bishop? What did he say?”

  I can’t keep the smile off my face remembering Amelia Bishop. “Ethan is out of town. I’m letting his sister, Amelia, handle it. She says I’m a dumbass and you’re a bad lawyer for handling the sale instead of pointing me to someone in Chicago.”

  “Damn it, I did tell you to go through someone in Chicago. I even said Ethan Bishop was a good lawyer to take this through.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad, I know you did. It’s fine. I’ll wait to have the suit against me tossed. She’s full steam on filing against the asshole that sold the building to me, though.”

  “She didn’t recommend countersuing to at least get the attorney fees covered? Now who’s the dumbass?”

  “Chill out.” Weird, why do I want to clock his ass for calling Amelia a dumbass? “She did recommend suing. I told her that I didn’t want to. It’s fine. I trust her to deal with it.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  “I recognize your tone of voice. How hot is she?”

  “Fucking brick house, I might never recover. I’ll probably be on an intravenous drip before I let her escape.”

  Travis laughs, we went through Vandy together. He remembers the time I spent a three-day weekend during my senior year buried deep in Ruby Donato. By the time it was over I was so dehydrated I needed an IV drip to recover. A fellow Texan, Travis and I clicked when we met at orientation. When he graduated from Vandy with his bachelors, he decided to go back to Texas for his law degree because his mother was ill. He got into UT at Austin, in my hometown. When I started buying property in Austin, he was the one I went to, to make sure everything went smooth and contracts were to my benefit. “Should I call her to warn her?”

  “Don’t you dare. She’s already trying to get away, you fuck a few strippers and suddenly it defines you.”

  “Chris, you’ve fucked nothing but strippers since Caroline more than five years ago. I’m sure your number is more like a hundred and a few. Don’t blame the woman for being skittish. Huh, checking her out on the ABA website, she’s impressive. You do know you can’t fuck her if she’s your lawyer though, right?”

  “Shit, it wasn’t just an excuse?”

  “Nope, dude, she could get into some deep shit if it gets out she fucked a client. It’s rare, but her license could be suspended, not the way to win a chick over.”

  “Ethan will be back soon. I’m willing to wait.” I’ll wait for as long as it takes. The red from the team logo on my chest catches my eye, my chest is covered in tattoos with the logos of the teams I’ve played for over the years. I’m reminded of Amelia running her eyes over my body. She liked what she saw; it was clear on her beautiful face. Then her tongue slid out between her lips to wet them. I’m still not sure how I didn’t back her up against the filing cabinet and fuck her right there. Hell yeah, I’m willing to wait.

  “You willing to wait? And she’s not a stripper? I heard the flu is going around in Chicago, did you catch it or something?”

  “Fuck you. I’m fine. I don’t know, man, something about her tells me she’s worth the wait, even putting up with her smart mouth and insults.”

  “Damn, she sounds like a game changer. Sounds good to me, strippers are nice and all, but even pizza all the time gets
old. With Regina, I get the best of both worlds. She’s a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets, you know what I mean? I can take her out and don’t have to worry her tits are going to pop out of her dress. Then when I get her home, she’s tits out for the night if I ask nice enough.”

  “Come on, man. You know I think of Regina as my little sister. I don’t need you talking about her with her tits out.” Regina is actually my aunt’s adopted daughter, she came to my aunt as a foster kid when Regina was ten going on twenty. She’s also more than six years younger than me. I wasn’t enthusiastic when Travis took a shine to her when he met her for the first time when I spent the holidays in Austin.

  “If you’re thinking that way, imagine how Ethan will feel when he finds out you want to fuck his little sister. You thought about finding a new lawyer yet?”

  “You really think I’ll need to? The guy is the best damn lawyer to handle my contracts since I started playing. He doesn’t miss a trick and ties shit up all nice and tight. We get along, he won’t get hostile.”

  “Hmm...I don’t know. I hope for your sake he doesn’t. Damn, Regina’s pissed I didn’t come down to dinner. She sent me a fucking text, I missed it. I gotta go. Good luck with the Amelia chick. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Getting dressed, I can’t stop thinking about Amelia here in my room, what she’ll look like all soft and sleepy from a night of dirty, sweaty, hot sex. No way am I taking her to a hotel, she’d probably deck me if I tried. Fuck, just the thought of her has me smiling.

  I wonder what it is about her? Was it her insulting me? The smirk playing on her soft, wide mouth? Was it how utterly feminine she is with those cock-raising curves, then long hair the color of chocolate, with shimmering strands in red and gold? I loved the way her hair flowed like a waterfall down her back. Or maybe it was the way those eyes of hers shifted color as we were talking. I don’t care what it is; I want her bad. I’ll have her, soon.