My Immortal (Seven Deadly Sins #1)(15)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"The house is beautiful," she said softly.

"It’s also hot in here," her companion said, tugging at the neck of his white shirt. "No air-conditioning in these old museums."

Marley thought it was warm, but not stuffy. All the windows were open, and a warm breeze shifted through the foyer. She was straining to see up the staircase, to see the portraits hanging along the right side wall, when she felt hands on her.

"You’re overdressed anyway." The short, seemingly harmless guy undid the belt on her jacket and had it stripped off her before she could even blink.

Marley grabbed for the sleeve, trying to keep it on, but he had the element of surprise on his side. The raincoat was gone, tossed behind his back, and she was standing in the stupid, black bikini, suddenly realizing what a huge, huge mistake this had been.

"Much better," he did, his eyes widening as he stared at her br**sts. "You looked more like a spy with that coat on. And while that could be sexy in its own right, I really prefer this."

His finger stroked across her breast, lightly squeezing her nipple. "Nice."

Marley smacked at him, disgusted, shock turning to anger. "Hands off."

Mr. Nice Guy smirked and took a step closer to her.

"Not ready yet? Going to play shy? Or do you like a guy who takes it anyway, even when you say no?"

No, she definitely didn’t like that. Marley clenched her fists and inched backward, ready to either knee him in the nuts or flee into the living room, whichever seemed more appropriate. There were low voices everywhere, surrounding her, hinting at many partygoers, yet she could only see shadows, not people. The house was dark, too dark.

"I’m not playing games," she said. "I really mean hands off."

"Okay," he acquiesced, more readily than she had expected. "I was just making sure you’re weren’t trying to start up a little roughhousing. But this is your first time, you’re not ready yet, I understand. Let’s go get a drink and we’ll take it slow, watch some of the other couples for a while. It’s good for me to have to wait."

Marley tried to formulate some kind of response, but her mouth was stuck shut like she’d eaten an entire jar of peanut butter.

"Actually, she is my special guest this evening."

Marley turned and saw Damien standing in the doorway, looking casual as usual. The pirate look suited him better than it did the skinny breast-grabber. Damien wore tight black pants, knee-high boots, and a white shirt only half buttoned up. He looked comfortable in the clothes, very masculine, like he’d just stepped off ship into the Port of New Orleans. She was thrilled to see him for a whole giant number of reasons.

"Hi," she managed, unable to prevent herself from shifting just a little closer to him. "Sorry I’m late."

His hand slid around her waist, and his gaze pored over her body, lingering on her chest. Marley struggled not to blush, knowing he was doing it just for effect.

"You’re here now, that is what matters."

"We were going to go get a drink," the other guy said.

Damien shook his head. "No. She’s only meant for me. She likes to watch the others, but she only wants me to touch."

Ho, boy. Marley struggled not to squirm. Damien was saving her behind, but she was embarrassed nonetheless.

"For real?" the guy asked.

"Yes," she said, trying to sound firm.

"That’s too bad," he said, but he shrugged and walked away, heading into the room Damien had emerged from.

Marley sighed in relief.

Damien gripped her waist harder and leaned toward her. "Marley, what the hell are you doing here?" he said in a low, angry voice in her ear.

Marley tried to pull away, uncomfortable at the way his warm hand gripped her bare skin, his breath hot and rough on her cheek. "I needed to make sure you could recognize Lizzie… what if she’s dyed her hair or something? If you had just let me come as a waitress I wouldn’t have had to do this."

"So this is my fault?" He sounded amused, his thigh brushing hers.

"Yes." She turned her head a little to give him a defiant stare. He wasn’t looking at her face. His eyes were down on her chest again. Marley glanced down herself, and swallowed hard. Yikes. She really shouldn’t have worn the bikini. Her D cups were straining, the triangles being dragged low by the sheer force of gravity. There was a lot of skin showing. She needed that raincoat back on and pronto. She pulled away from him to retrieve it.

"Where are you going?"

"I’m putting my coat back on." She bent over and grabbed it off the floor.

"Not if you want me to escort you through all the rooms so you can look for your sister."

"You’ll escort me?" She hadn’t expected him to agree to that. She thought he would toss her out on her bikini-covered behind.

Marley shoved her arms through her sleeves even though he had just told her not to. She felt way too vulnerable half naked. Generally speaking, she wasn’t all that comfortable in her own skin, even with clothes on. Forget clothes off. Her sexual experience was mostly limited to college, when she’d had what she’d thought at the time was a grand love affair. Later they’d both realized it had been more of an enthusiastic case of puppy lust.

Damien crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I’m certainly not going to let you stroll around on your own. I can’t even imagine the kind of trouble you’d get yourself into."

He was probably right, but it was still kind of insulting. "Like I said, I wouldn’t have had to resort to this if you had just cooperated with me."

"Alright, I’ll accept full responsibility. This is all my fault." He came toward her, hands landing on her shoulders. Damien’s fingers shifted under the coat, caressing her skin, skimming down her arms, forcing the sleeves of the coat to give way. He caught it, while her breath hitched, goose bumps rising on her flesh. His mouth was right in front of hers, his legs pressing against her bare thighs. Turning casually, as if he had no idea how nervous she was, he stripped the coat off of her, folded it, and set it on the Louis XIV chair.

Then rounded on her, shoulders set, voice firm. "So, since we are in agreement, I have created this rather precarious situation, and to make it right, I’ll take you around so you can look for your sister. But you have to stay right next to me. You will not speak to anyone, you will not touch anyone, and you will leave the mask on at all times. Do you understand?"

"Yes." She had no intention of disobeying. She was going to stick to Damien like white on rice, keep her mouth shut, and not make eye contact with anyone, since apparently that could be misconstrued as an invitation to touch her nipple.