* * *
I asked notto meet my biological parents. I didn't exactly want them to see me behind bars the first time we meet. Sin came back despite the number of times I asked her not to. She was persistent. Said she'd write a story about us if I fill in the gaps. I wasn't interested in having the world read about me. I told her she could do whatever she wanted, but that I didn't want to be a part of it.
How I see it, is that I got to meet Sin, she knows who I am, and that is about all that matters.
Chapter 37
Sinclair
Willow is upstairs with Gracie, who has not left her side since we returned over two weeks ago. I run my hands down the skirt of my floral dress for the umpteenth time. I stand and look at my appearance in the full-length mirror again. Does the denim jacket work? Do brown boots? Is it too late to change? Again.
"It's just dinner," I say to myself. Then why am I a ball of nerves?
The doorbell rings, and I get it before anyone else does. The last thing I want is for them to make a big deal of this.
Creed stands on my doorstep dressed in dark blue jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a leather jacket. My tummy does a little flip. He leans down and kisses my cheek.
“You look stunning.”
I feel the heat creep up my face. "Thank you."
“You’re welcome.” He smirks down at me, and I avert my gaze.
“Shall we?”
He steps aside and lets me pass. I pull the door behind me. “What time do I have to have you back?”
I roll my eyes, but it does feel a bit weird to be going out with a man from my parent's house.
He opens the door to his truck, and I jump in. He climbs in, puts on some pop, and pulls away from the house. He reaches over and boldly takes my hand in his, placing a kiss on my fingers.
His lips feel like torture against my skin. I think about that kiss, and I'm sure I'm blushing.
“What’s on your mind, pretty lady?”
"Nothing, really."
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
I bite my lip. He pulls over, turning toward me. My heart feels like it’s beating a million miles a minute.
“What are you doing?” I flush. He leans in closer, the scent of him is intoxicating.
“Whatever you want me to?”
I don't know what this is or where it's going. I just know that I want to find out. My body feels alive. My skin tingles, and I kiss him hoping it conveys what I feel. He groans, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He licks over my bottom lip, requesting access, and I give in, letting all of me fall into this moment. I get up on my knees, wanting every part of me to touch him. His hands grip my hips, and my fingers tangle in his messy hair. He tastes minty and spicy, and I want to stay here forever, his tongue exploring mine, his hands sending shivers all over me. I moan against his mouth, and I’m being tugged into his lap. He's hard, and it makes me braver than I am. I grind on his erection.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Language, Detective Jameson.”
His eyes sizzle as he slips a hand under my dress. I throw my head back as his fingers slide across my skin. He sucks on my neck, sending thrills right to my core. I feel everything. This doesn't feel off or unfamiliar.
The sound of a horn has me jumping off his lap and buckling up, out of breath, and completely horrified. A car drives past us, a woman shouting.
"Oh, God." I sink down in my seat, hiding my face in my palms.
We laugh so hard, I’m out of breath.
