Sixty Nine (Payne Brothers Romance Book 4)
Sixty Nine
A Payne Brothers Romance
Sosie Frost
Sixty Nine
Copyright © 2018 by Sosie Frost
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography
Created with Vellum
To L.G.
It’s a lighter Sweetest Sin…
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Coming Soon - Roughneck
Also by Sosie Frost
About the Author
Prologue
Psalm 69
Save me, O God,
for the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in the miry depths,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters;
the floods engulf me.
I am worn out calling for help;
my throat is parched.
My eyes fail,
looking for my God…
1
Glory
A girl like me didn’t need temptation to get into trouble.
Sometimes, sinning was that damned fun.
With a good man, a girl could find heaven. With the wrong man? She got a hell of lot more.
And since there was no such thing as the right man, I just needed a little faith that I’d find what I was looking for.
Fortunately, V answered those nighttime prayers.
We had no business meeting in a hotel this beautiful, but V always spoiled me. If it was worth the sin, it was worth doing well. But these were the sorts of hotels with restaurants instead of hourly rates, valets at the door, and scuff marks on the tile from my four-inch heeled boots.
Tonight, I wore the six-inch tall, fuck-me platforms. Made it easier to look into green eyes as dark as a dangerous sky.
I didn’t have time to change after work. They were the boots I’d worn on stage. Hopped off the pole, slid into my car, and crossed from the bad side of town to meet a good man who had no business being corrupted by someone like me.
His text had been short and sweet.
I need you.
That made the game worth playing, even if the front desk clerk knew exactly what was happening as he offered me the room key. His eyes lingered on my curves as I glided to the elevator. Wasn’t the first stranger’s stare I’d earned tonight, and it wouldn’t be the last.
But it was the thought of V’s appraisal, enjoyment, which left me hot and trembling even before the elevator delivered me to the penthouse.
Christ, it was like I could smell him already.
What sort of woman swooned for sandalwood and oak, like the lingering scent of a leather-bound book? Then again, we only had so many opportunities to meet. I’d envelop myself in all of him just to remember a moment of this stolen pleasure.
I never knocked. Wasn’t my style. Usually threaded bass and sultry music announced my arrival, but during these nights, all I needed was the soft beep of an unlocking door. I let it close behind me before dropping my purse onto the tile.
Silence followed, broken only by the click of my heels against the expensive tile.
His words parted the darkness, each caramel rasp clawing at my soul, searching for the secrets I could hide from everyone but him.
“Wasn’t sure you’d come.”
My tease was offered free with a smirk. “You know I always come for you…”
“Because of me.”
“A man’s job is never done.”
“It’s a hell I’m willing to suffer.”
Hardly.
When V had first seduced me, he’d pretended to be the devil. But I’d battled my fair share of demons. I knew V was an angel, just looking for the chance to go bad.
Most men sought forgiveness. But V devised his own penance—a private torture beneath the bedsheets, absolving his past with a touch, a kiss, a promise.
The ice in his whiskey clinked the glass. He savored the amber drink as if he appreciated every drop that caressed his tongue. I’d never been with a man who appreciated the finer things.
Like me.
That made him endlessly appealing…
And eternally dangerous.
V cloaked himself in a quiet, unassuming confidence. It wasn’t fair. He could charm with a word, chastise with a glance, and delight with each of his promises.
Always planned. Always cautious. But always genuine.
V watched as I stalked the hotel room, one boot in front of the other, hips swaying. His expression darkened, not quite a smile but far from a frown. Interested, but so very far away.
We’d agreed—when the door locked and the clothes came off, we lived only in that moment. All the world’s problems and responsibilities faded. Every heartache forgotten, and every reason we ran lost with all that we left behind.
But there was one thing in this world he couldn’t escape.
Himself.
And it broke my heart.
“Let me get you a drink.” He didn�
�t ask it, and he didn’t wait for me to decline. He poured a whisky, but I wouldn’t need it. No reason to dull my senses, not when I knew what awaited me tonight.
I hummed. “Liquid courage? Are you that afraid of me?”
“Afraid? No.” He sipped his whisky slowly, so relaxed in the overstuffed leather chair. “Amazed? Absolutely.”
“Haven’t heard that before…” I arched an eyebrow. “Usually it’s…beautiful. Seductive. Tempting.”
“And more.”
“What else?”
“A treat.”
“And you deserve the reward?”
V’s laugh rumbled deep inside me. “I don’t deserve much, but lately I’ve decided to take a little more.”
“I’d always believed the Lord would provide,” I said.
“But the devil is much more generous.”
“And what would you know of the devil?”
“I once made it my life to know him…” V’s gaze tickled over my curves. “But now I’ve decided to stop chasing prayers and start demanding my answers from the angels themselves.”
“And what do they say?” I asked.
“You tell me, seraphim.”
Sweet talker. I loved it. “What would you ask for…if I could grant it? Peace? Comfort?”
“A night with you is worth all the blessings of Heaven.”
“You’d charm a girl straight to Hell…” I purred, fingers drifting over the ridges of my corset. “Though something tells me you’d dive in to save her too.”
“You’d be right.”
“I’d be lucky.”
Varius sipped his drink once more. Slowly. Enjoying every minute.
This was part of the game. He loved the tease, the chase.
It was almost as exciting as the capture.
A plate-glass window stretched the length of the room, and the flashing, garish neon light of Ironfield’s downtown invaded our sanctuary. Blues and pinks, yellows and wicked reds illuminated what should have remained in shadow.
But it allowed him to see me. All of me. From the black skirt to the low-cut promise of my crimson corset. My breasts plumped high, obscene and sultry. The leather boots caressed the gentle curve of my legs, teasing almost to mid-thigh. I wasn’t about glamour, but the dark elegance of my skin accentuated the outfits slits and laces.
V had already removed his shirt, and the bare muscles of his chest were just as dangerously attractive as my skin-tight skirt and the tease of my heels.
He was the quiet, devastating sort of sexy. More gentle than domineering. A man of action and few words, who understood far more than he’d ever admit. He saw everything, judged not, and allowed the uncertain world to part like a sea before him so he could pick his own path and play by his own rules.
His skin was pale white, but I liked that. Something new. Sexy. His dark eyes studied me with furious intensity, and he gently stroked the scruff on his chin. It didn’t seem like it belonged on him. This man should have been clean-shaven, without a single wrinkle to his clothes. The sort who stayed in on Saturday nights, reading or thinking or whatever the intellectual types did when they weren’t in bed with a beautiful woman.
In another world, he might have avoided a girl like me.
Instead, he’d tried to save me.
And when that hadn’t worked, he’d seduced me.
He pulled the phone from his pocket and pressed play on the music. The song blossomed from hidden speakers, filling the room. The subtle, sensual beat raced through me. It didn’t matter that I’d just spent the last five hours dancing or that I’d had my choice of men offering me money, pleasure, excitement.
Only one man was worth a second dance, and V had earned his a long time ago.
I rolled my hips, and my skirt tightened against my thighs. The corset drifted up, exposing the barest hint of my flat tummy with a fading scar. No one had ever asked questions about it. Hell, they were probably too distracted by the rest of me to wonder why a pretty girl was once sliced open. Would have ruined the perfect illusion of the sexualized, fantasy woman…but so did coming to work with fruit snacks in my purse and Disney songs in my head.
A peek of chocolate skin delighted V. A little lick of darkness that contrasted against the cutoff corset and the tease of white, lacey panties beneath the skirt. I edged the skirt’s zipper down, but I didn’t allow it to fall. Instead, I danced, shifting my weight side to side as my hips teased my very captive audience.
My arms came up, and I tangled my fingers in my hair. The curly locks were dyed a deep crimson. It only showed in just the right light, usually on stage as I twirled around a golden pole. Just an extra bit of bling for their exotic entertainment. Enough to keep people interested.
Though I had no trouble keeping this man’s attention.
He was the only man worth this sensual, practiced dance.
My fingers drifted to the top button of my corset. “No fair. One of these nights, I’m going to make you do the dancing.”
V lowered his drink. “Not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“A man like me shouldn’t dance.” His silken voice darkened to a growl. “Especially in the company of a beautiful woman who does it so well.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Only one place I want to go.”
A delightful promise, but a girl could only take so much before the game grew frustrating. For as handsome, dark, and utterly delicious as he was, V had a habit of pushing my literal and figurative buttons.
“Not tonight, V.” I continued my dance with a gentle scold. “I’m done screwing around.”
“Screwing around is what we do best.”
“A girl can only handle so much teasing before she starts to get…”
His smile grew, cocky and deliberate. “Overwhelmed?”
I pouted my puffy lips. “Annoyed.”
V reclined, his thick arms stretched across the back of the chair. Every muscle quivered and flexed. I flicked another button from the corset. My breasts ached, trapped within the tight material.
“And here I thought you liked the attention,” V said.
I did. “But I just finished a very long shift. Believe me, I don’t need any more attention.”
“Then let me give you what you do need.” His voice dropped. “Take it off.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to be touched, kissed, and taken. And you need it now.”
“And you’re the man to do it?”
“I’m the man who can give you everything you want.”
Not everything. He held out on the best parts of our little liaisons.
And that’s what made him so damned frustrating.
I swayed to the music, dipping low to offer him a taste of my toned, powerful legs. Perfect for gripping the poll every night. Even better for wrapping around the right man.
If he’d ever let me.
“You know what I don’t understand?” Another button snapped. The girls would bust out soon enough. The corset didn’t stand a chance. Neither did he. “We’ve met nearly every week for six months. All this time, all those meetings, all those naughty secrets in the dark…”
I licked my lip as I undid the last button. I swayed to the music, but my hand held the corset shut. No sense rewarding him for what he didn’t earn. “Why haven’t you ever wanted to take this any further?”
V's words deepened. “I’ve wanted to take it further, but I decided not to do it. There’s a difference.”
A very frustrating, enthralling difference. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Believe me, Glory.” A tired, heavy sigh burdened his words. “Denying myself is an unholy agony.”
“So why resist?”
“And what happens when I surrender?”
He had eyes as green as envy, lips that whispered only dirty words, and hands strong enough to caress my skin. I wished I knew the answer to his question. It would’ve soothed both of our weary s
ouls.
Just one night. That was all I wanted. A night with more than just a kiss, a touch, dance.
I wanted to be a part of him if only for a few hours.
But for as often as we met, for as desperately as we wanted each other, he had yet to take me.
And I had no idea why.
“What are you afraid of?” The song changed. A heavier, throbbing beat vibrated across the room. My dance shifted, sensual and revealing. I let the corset open just a bit, as if my finger slipped, and the tease of darkness was unintentional. “Are you worried about a little pleasure?”
“It wouldn’t be little.”
And that was why I liked him. I needed a man who could deliver on his promises. I shivered, allowing the music to touch what he could not.
“Oh,” I purred. “This should be a sin.”
His lips twisted into a smirk. “It is.”
“Maybe that’s what makes our nights together so fun.”
“So dangerous.”
The music swelled. I dropped the corset to the ground but covered my breasts with my hand. They bounced, held tight within my own punishing grip.
A gentleman might’ve offered to help with such a heavy, swollen weight. But Varius liked the struggle. Liked the tease. Liked how I tortured him with the promise of absolute, sweet oblivion.
Why did we do this to each other, week after week, night after night?