Perfect Sinner by Maggie Cole

7

Nolan

Several Weeks Later

"Oh! Wow!"Gemma exclaims.

I glance up. I'm working on creating the new algorithm...or at least trying to. She's on the couch with her laptop, in the shortest pair of shorts I've ever seen. My thoughts about caramel have now switched to honey, since it occurred to me liquid caramel would burn her skin. I've gotten a total of fifteen minutes in without staring at her thighs, wondering for the millionth time what she tastes like. I ask, "What's going on?"

She furrows her eyebrows, reads something else on the screen, then excitement erupts in her voice. "I got a job."

I jump up and sit next to her. "Where?"

She points to the screen. "It's a start-up. They only need a basic branding package, but they want to know when I can start. They said they liked my portfolio." She spent several days creating sample graphics and slogans for fake companies to showcase her skills. We came up with all sorts of crazy names at the pub one night. When she created the designs and slogans, they all blew me away.

I slide my arm around her shoulders and tug her into me. Without thinking, I kiss the top of her head. "That's my girl."

She tilts her head, and my heart races faster. The last few days have gotten harder for me not to touch her. Once we got past the new house rules, we fell into a routine. We wake up, drink our smoothie, then go for a run. After, we do different isometric exercises. She then makes her espresso, and I harass her about putting acid in her body. The rest of the day, we spend on our laptops. I make sure she eats three meals and two snacks a day. At night, we watch movies, play cards, or go to the pub. But every moment spent with her is more torturous than the last. The constant flirting comes from both our sides, but neither of us has gone past that. Each night, we go into our separate rooms. I toss and turn, wishing she were with me. I always end up sneaking into her room and watching her sleep. And it's the first time I've kissed her on the head since the night she slept in my room.

Her blue eyes meet mine, and she sweetly smiles.

Time seems to stand still. She looks so happy. Over the last few days, she doesn't seem as stressed. I know she can't see it, but I catch glimpses of who she is and not who she thinks she's become. The more I see, the more I'm attracted to her. It's creating real issues for me when I analyze our situation.

She finally says, "Thanks for making me do this."

"You did it. I just threatened you," I tease.

She laughs, and my cock twitches. Something about her laugh lights something inside me I haven't felt before. It's getting harder to resist making a move on her. Part of me no longer remembers why I'm not. After everything Orla has put her through, I wonder if it's fair to still assume we can't be together since she's a Bailey. Liam seems to have gotten over it within minutes of learning the truth about Hailee. I wonder why I'm still holding on to it or if Liam is crazy.

Gemma glances at my lips. "Well, thanks."

Before I can analyze it, I say, "Let's go celebrate tonight."

She slowly licks her lips. "How?"

I internally groan. That tongue of hers is driving me insane. "Let's go out."

"To the pub?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No. Somewhere nice. Wear your blue dress."

She cocks an eyebrow. "My blue dress?"

"Yeah. The one in your closet." Ever since I saw her blue minidress hanging in the closet, I've imagined her in it.

Her lips twitch. "Okay. Do I get to pick your outfit?"

If I get to see you in your blue dress, you can pick my clothes for life.I casually reply, "Sure."

She shuts her laptop, rises, and I get a view of her perfect ass. She glances behind her. "Are you coming?"

I rise and we go into my closet.

She flicks through my clothes and every now and then holds a shirt or sport coat up to me. She finally settles on a pair of jeans, a form-fitted white T-shirt, and a navy fitted sport coat. She asks, "What time are we going out?"

I remove my phone from my pocket and pull up the app to see what's open. The high-end sushi restaurant I want to take her to doesn't have any openings, so I text my friend who owns it. He replies, and I say to Gemma, "We'll leave in two hours."

"Guess I better get in the shower, then," she chirps. She pats me on the shoulder and passes me.

I reach for her. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Congratulations."

Her face lights up, and my balls ache some more. "Thanks."

I wink, and she leaves.

I shower, get ready, then pace my bedroom. I'm suddenly nervous.

Is this a date or no?

Do I want to cross the line with her, or am I just asking for more trouble?

No. I shouldn't cross the line. We're living together. I don't need things to get uncomfortable or to cause any drama.

When it gets closer to the time we need to leave, I've convinced myself we're two friends going to dinner to celebrate her success. That's it. We'll go to dinner, have a night out, then come home.

Keeping it in the friend zone.

I go into the family room. Gemma comes out. My heart almost beats out of my chest. Her blue dress matches her eyes. It showcases her legs and cleavage. She's wearing four-inch silver stilettos. I love her without makeup, but I decide I love her just as much with it. And her long hair hangs in waves. She freezes and scans my body. She softly says, "You look nice."

I check her out again. "You look gorgeous."

Neither of us moves for a moment. She spins and says, "Can you zip me up?"

The dress is backless. She's not wearing a bra, and it takes everything I have not to push her dress off her. I step forward and drag my finger down her back. A small gasp slips from her lips. A muted floral scent makes my blood hotter. I take my other hand and move her hair over her shoulder then refrain from unzipping the part she was able to, in order to see if she's wearing panties. I slowly zip her dress up.

She spins into me. In her stilettos, the top of her head is just under my nose. She glances up, I look down, and our breaths merge. I hold myself back from kissing her. "Are you hungry?"

She blushes, and her eyes roam to my lips. "Yeah."

"Good. I won't have to tie you up and force-feed you, then," I tease.

She tilts her head and smirks. "Ha ha. You're suddenly Mr. Funny, I see."

"I'm always funny."

She squints. "Mmmm...are you?"

I chuckle. "Yep. Let's go." I help her into her coat then lead her out of the house and to the car waiting in the driveway. I open the door to the back seat.

"Fancy." She smirks.

I pat her ass. "Get in, princess."

Her face flushes as she obeys.

I take a deep breath of fresh air before joining her in the car. It does nothing to calm my nerves. She crosses her legs, and I roll my head toward her. "Are you wearing panties tonight?"

She smirks. "Do you always ask women you take to dinner if they're wearing panties?"

"Nope. Just you. And you aren't wearing a bra." I glance at her cleavage, unable to stop myself from being a total pervert.

She peeks down at my pants, walks her fingers over my leg, and stops next to my dick. Her index finger strokes my inner thigh, sending zings through my groin. She moves her head closer to mine. "Are these your boxers, or did you leave them at home?"

"Maybe if you're a good girl at dinner, you'll find out when we get home," I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Her hand freezes, her breath hitches, and she swallows hard.

I curse myself for going where I shouldn't. At the same time, I lean an inch from her lips and dig myself deeper in the hole. I murmur, "I think my bed misses you."

She takes a deep breath. "Is that why you watch me while I sleep? Because your bed misses me?"

I freeze. Blood pounds between my ears. "You know I watch you?"

She bites her lip and slowly nods.

My stomach flips. "Does it bother you?"

She shakes her head.

I trace her jawbone. "Why is that?"

She opens her mouth to speak, and the door opens.

I jerk my head and bark, "Ever heard of knocking, Korrigan?"

My cousin grunts. "Easy. We're here." He steps aside.

I glance out the door to the line snaking around the building. "Next time, knock," I reprimand and slide out of the car. I reach in and take Gemma's hand. When she's out of the car, I tug her close to me and go to the front of the line.

"Nolan. I haven't seen you in a while," the bouncer says and holds out his fist.

I bump it. "Good to see you, Kai. This is Gemma."

He eyes her over, and for the first time ever, I want to punch Kai.

"Nice to meet you, Gemma."

"You, too," she replies with a kind smile.

He nods for us to go inside. I quickly guide her past him to the hostess station. We immediately get escorted to a private area. Black curtains hang on both sides of the two-top table. Small candles give Gemma's face a soft glow, making my head spin faster.

The hostess hands me a wine menu. "Your server, Akari, will be with you shortly." She leaves.

I open the wine menu. I scan it, and my nerves vibrate. I'm not a huge wine fan and never know what to order. It's one of those things I should probably figure out but haven't yet. I ask, "Do you drink red or white?"

Gemma winces. "I don't like wine."

"Thank God," I say and shut the menu.

She laughs. "You don't, either?"

"Not really. I'd rather have real alcohol."

She beams. "And we finally agree on something."

"I guess so. You always drink a martini at the pub. Is that what you want?"

"Mmm...nope. I think tonight I'll have a Sidecar."

Her answer surprises me. I grew up in a pub but never heard of it. "What's in it?"

"Cognac, orange liqueur, and lemon juice," she reels off.

"Is it sweet?"

She shrugs. "A bit."

"I'll take a Macallan, then."

Her lips twitch. "You're so Irish."

"And you aren't?"

"How am I Irish?"

The server pulls the curtain back. "Good evening, I'm Akari. Did the hostess tell you the specials tonight?"

"No," I respond.

Akari smiles. "For starters, I highly recommend the Tuna Tartare Tower. It's enough for two. The chef also has a twelve-piece sashimi sampler, and there are three new signature rolls. Would you like to know what's in them?"

"No. I eat anything and like to be surprised," Gemma claims. She smirks at me. "But I'm sure Nolan would want to know."

"Oh? Why is that?"

She turns to Akari. "He's very particular about what goes into his body. He's never even drunk coffee."

Shock fills Akari's face. She turns to me. "Never?"

"It's super acidic and full of toxins," I claim.

She raises her eyebrows at Gemma. "Guess I'll go through it all."

"Nope. Just bring us one of everything," I say.

Gemma tilts her head. "It's okay. You can know the ingredients."

I shake my head. "Nope. I bet there isn't anything here I don't like."

Akari grins. "Okay. Anything else?"

"Gemma?" I ask.

"No. I'm good."

Akari takes our drink orders, steps back, and pulls the curtain for privacy.

Gemma leans closer. "You were saying I'm super Irish?"

I trace the bones on her hand. "Yep. Hot tempered. Stubborn. Sexy as hell." I pin my gaze on her, and my stomach somersaults. I can't seem to keep my mouth shut tonight. I'm still not sure it's a good idea. I rethink if I should even drink the alcohol I ordered.

Her cheeks turn red. "Is that your way of nicely saying I'm a hot mess?"

"Your words, not mine."

She shifts in her seat. She nervously darts her eyes to her water then back to me. "So I haven't overstayed my welcome yet?"

"No. I kind of like having you around," I admit.

She takes a sip of water then asks about the elephant standing in front of our relationship. "Even though I have Bailey blood swirling in my veins?"

I skirt around the question. Maybe it's my stubbornness, but I can't seem to say it's okay. It's not fair to her, but something about admitting it's okay she has Bailey DNA seems like a betrayal to my father and Sean. But the urge for me to make her mine is only intensifying, and I don't know how to stop it. I respond, "If you didn't have their blood, I guess we wouldn't be in this position, would we?"

She furrows her eyebrows and sits back in her seat. She moves her hand on her lap. "What if I didn't? What if you met me on the street or in the pub? Say the night we met, I wasn't as crazy as I was, and what happened didn't happen. Imagine I was my normal self that night. Would we be sitting here?"

The server opens the curtain and sets down our drinks. Gemma's gaze never leaves mine.

"Need anything else right now?" Akari asks.

"No. We're good," I reply and watch her leave, to try and gather my thoughts.

"We wouldn't, would we?" Gemma asks.

I tap my glass of Macallan. I quietly admit, "No. I would have stayed away from you."

She looks away. "Why?"

"You're more Killian's type," I say without thinking.

She snaps her head toward me. "What does that mean?"

The feeling I just majorly slipped up annihilates me. "Nothing bad. He just always dates wild women."

Her voice turns cold. "Wild women?"

"I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just telling the truth," I reply, but my chest tightens.

She takes a sip of her drink, licks her lips, and sets her glass down. "So Killian dates wild women. Who do you date?"

"The non-wild women," I attempt to tease, but it falls flat.

Her knee begins to bounce next to mine. "I see. So why is that? What about them do you like? Is it the fact they do whatever you say? Or that they never embarrass you? What is it about them?"

"Easy. I think you're taking this the wrong way."

"I'm fine. I'd just like to know what you find so attractive about them."

"Let's talk about something else," I suggest.

"No. You said it. I'd like an explanation, please," she pushes.

I take a long drink.

"Nolan!"

"Fine. I'll tell you. There isn't any drama. It's easy. They aren't reckless. I can trust them."

She nods and rises. "I need to use the restroom."

I get out of my seat. "Gemma—"

"I'll be back in a minute."

"Don't be upset—"

"I'm not. I need the ladies' room. Do you know where it is?"

I sigh. "Yeah. Come on." I escort her through the restaurant and wait outside, kicking myself for not shutting my mouth. Quite a while passes, and she finally comes out.

"Gemma—"

"Everything's fine. Let's change the subject." She smiles and walks past me.

I follow her back to our table, and a server has the Tuna Tower and sashimi platter. He sets it down. We get in our seats, and she avoids me, filling her appetizer plate with tuna, mango, and avocado. She focuses on eating.

Several minutes pass. I attempt to rectify things again. I calmly state, "I didn't mean to sound like I was calling you those things."

She sets her chopsticks down and finally acknowledges me. "But I am, aren't I?"

"Only sometimes," I tease, trying to lighten the mood. It only digs the hole deeper.

She doesn't say anything, but hurt fills her face.

"I'm not saying things right tonight," I claim.

"Sure you are. You're just speaking your truth." She takes a long sip of her drink then says, "Let's change the subject."

I feel guilty changing the subject. It's as if I'm taking the coward's way out. "Okay. But first, tell me this. If you met me outside of the family issues and you hadn't been looking for someone to protect you, would you have even given me a second glance?"

She sits up straighter and looks me straight in the eye. "Yeah. I would have. You're exactly the type of guy I'd be into. And then I'd realize what a mistake you were after a few months in and kick myself for dating another guy like you."

My gut feels like she punched me. "What does that mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know. Why don't you fill me in?"

She sticks a piece of salmon in her mouth, chews it, then washes it down with her Sidecar. She wipes her mouth with the black napkin. "Let's see. After you swept me off my feet and got in my pants, you'd start standing me up. I'd find out you were cheating on me, and then you'd deny it and try to convince me I'm the crazy one but you still love me."

"That's not me at all," I claim.

She huffs. "Yeah. Sure. That's what all guys like you say."

My pulse beats harder. "Guys like me?"

"Yeah."

My anger builds, and the curtain opens. The same male server places a tray of rolls down and tells us each of the names. I barely hear him, staring at Gemma, who's focusing on the server.

"Need anything else?" he asks.

"We're good. Thank you," she sweetly replies.

He leaves and shuts the curtain.

"So what kind of guy am I, Gemma? Because I'm not a cheater. I don't use women. And I've never stood a woman up," I tell her.

She stares at the rolls then picks one up with her chopsticks. She puts it on her plate then selects a few more. "You're a typical bad boy. Dangerous. Totally alpha. Super into your body and looking good."

I sit back in my chair and grip the edge of the table. "So I'm a cheater who stands women up because I work out and eat right?"

She shrugs. "Just calling it what it is. No shame in your game. It's who you are." She pops a piece of sushi in her mouth and continues to not look at me.

"And this is coming from a girl who competes in all sorts of athletic competitions? The same girl who has a six-pack?"

"I'm not a cheater."

"Neither am I," I insist, insulted she would even assume I am after living with me for several weeks.

She puts her chopsticks down and takes another drink. "Can we change the subject?"

I don't answer her. I swallow half my glass of Macallan. It burns my throat as it slides into my stomach.

"You should eat." She points to the sushi.

"I've lost my appetite," I state.

"Oh? Want me to tie you to the chair and force-feed you?" She shoots me a wide-eyed innocent expression.

The curtain opens. In a chipper voice, Akari asks, "How are we doing?"

"Fine. Can we get our check, please?" I ask.

She looks at the table. "Is something wrong with your food?"

"No."

"Do you want a box?"

"No."

"Yes, please. I can have it at home during one of my feeding times," Gemma digs.

Akari glances at us, confused, but recovers. "Sure. I'll be right back with boxes and your check."

"Great. Thank you," Gemma replies.

I tap the table, finish my drink, and scowl at her. "Glad to know what you think of me."

"Ditto." She finishes her drink then chases it with water.

Uncomfortable silence fills the air. I wonder how I got it so wrong. Or how I screwed up so bad. Part of me is too pissed about what she thinks of me to attempt to make things right. The other half of me only sees the hurt in her expression and body language. Either way, I'm at a loss for how to move back to where we were.

Akari comes back with the check. I pay while Gemma boxes up the food. We leave. The car ride home is quiet. We're a few blocks from my house when I mutter, "This isn't how I wanted tonight to go."

She sighs. In a hurt voice, she says, "No. You wanted to get in my pants even though you still hate me because of who my father is and you despise everything about me."

I turn toward her. "That's not true."

"Isn't it? Can you sit here and say you're perfectly accepting of who I am and the blood that flows through my veins?"

My heart beats faster. I want to tell her she's wrong, and I do accept everything about her. That no matter who her family is, I don't care. But my father's and Sean's faces pop into my mind, and it takes me a while to find my words.

The car pulls into the driveway, and we get out. I pull her into me and slide my hands on her cheeks. "Listen. I'm like you in this. I don't—"

"Nolan!" Molly's voice calls out, and my gut drops.

I close my eyes then spin toward my front porch. "What are you doing here?"

She rises off the step. "I lost my keys. My mom isn't home. You're the only person who has an emergency set."

Shit.

"How did you get here?"

"I took an Uber. But I can see I'm interrupting. I'll go home and wait for my mom." She begins to walk away.

"Molly, stop. Just give me a minute."

She sniffles. "Okay."

I turn back to Gemma.

She shakes her head. Her sad expression makes my heart sink. She steps away from me. "I'm going to bed."

"Gemma, wait." I reach for her arm.

She shrugs out of it and mutters, "I hope you're happy with your non-wild, drama-free girl."

"Gemma!"

She walks past Molly and into the garage. The door slams and I cringe.

I lead Molly inside the house and get my keys. Gemma is nowhere around. I hand Molly the spare and say, "I'll have Korrigan take you home."

Her face falls. "Okay. Umm, can I have a glass of water first?"

I groan inside. Molly is quickly becoming a pain in my ass. "Sure." I go to the fridge and get her a bottle of water. I expect her to take it with her, but she sits on the barstool.

"Nolan, I need some advice," she states.

"Can we talk some other time?" I ask.

She looks away, and her voice shakes. "Ummm...sure." She rises.

Guilt fills me. She's always been a troubled girl. I promised Colin I'd look out for her. "Molly, sit back down. What do you need to talk about?"