Page 40 of Black Sheep
“This is incredible,” I say, turning in a slow circle to take in the clean lines and yet completely inviting atmosphere. Massive houseplants take up residence in the corners, and the windows extend from floor to ceiling.
I wander over to a happy-looking bamboo as Cannon hangs his keys near the door with a jangle.
Night drapes over Little Italy like a blanket, and the lights of the shops and restaurants glow from below us. Across the street, the windows are dark, waiting for their residents to come home from work or play. It’s a perfect little haven from the busy movement of the rest of the city.
Cannon’s scent wraps around me, telling me he’s right behind me. “I’m glad you like it.”
I turn to face him, eminently aware of my chest being only inches from his. “Who wouldn’t like it?”
“No one I’d let come here.” His eyes are hooded as he stares down at my face.
“Is this really making our date more realistic if you don’t usually bring women here?” I ask as once again, everything happening between us feels totally genuine and not staged.
One corner of Cannon’s mouth lifts. “I didn’t say I don’t bring women here. Just ... not many.” The warmer colors of his ever-changing hazel eyes heat as they roam over my face. “Bringing you here is a definite statement, though. One that can’t be misinterpreted.”
The glass cooling my back is at direct odds with the warmth of his body radiating against my front.
“When’s the last time you made a statement like this?” I ask, my attention fixed on his third button, even though I didn’t intend to voice the question.
Cannon waits until my gaze meets his before he replies. “Jealous? Like you were of Tanya getting a piece of me?”
Mulish stubbornness dictates that I reply with a decisive, “No. Not at all.”
“Liar,” Cannon whispers as he leans forward and sweeps his lips across mine. “Kiss me back.”
I know I shouldn’t kiss him. That’s not why I’m here. I should be finding a way to sneak off and snoop through anything that could possibly help me find dirt that will bring down his family. But when his lips drift across mine again, I can’t resist.
They’re soft and warm, and I want more.
My thought from earlier comes back. Cannon Freeman is the ultimate distraction. As soon as I open my mouth to him and his tongue sweeps inside to stroke mine, I can’t think of anything but him. All other thought is obliterated from my mind.
There’s only the heat of his body as he pulls me closer against him. The strength of his arms as they wrap around me, anchoring me to him in a statement that can’t be misunderstood.
He wants me as much as I want him.Even though I tell myself to push him away, to remember this isn’t for real, that this isn’t something I’m supposed to enjoy ... I can’t. I’m totally lost in him.
It should terrify me, but I’m too busy tilting my head to give him better access to take the kiss deeper. His hand grips my ass and the other curls around my face, keeping me where he wants me.
It’s the most erotic kiss of my entire life. I’m seconds away from wrapping my leg around his waist when something vibrates against me, and it’s not the buzz of his arousal. It’s his phone.
“Shit.” He pulls away an inch with a curse and fishes his cell from his pocket. “One second. Let me shut this off.”
I step back, out of his arms, and try to calm my hammering heart. “No, answer it. It’s fine.”
I turn and walk toward the charcoal-gray matte kitchen cabinets and the black sink. Even though this isn’t my place, I open the cupboards until I find a thick glass, then fill it with water from the tap to gulp it down like it’s going to somehow change what just happened.
I kissed him. I want him. I’m so fucked.
Before my mental flagellation can ramp up, Cannon’s phone starts buzzing again.
“Freeman. What?”
I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, and I should be kicking myself for not staying close enough to listen in, but I’m gulping down water like it’s the elixir that will save me from making more bad decisions.
“What the fuck is he doing there?” Cannon spins to face the window, pressing his palm on the whitewashed brick between the floor-to-ceiling panes. “He doesn’t have a meeting with me, and the only reason he’s fucking there— Never mind. Tell him I’m not going to be in tonight. He knows why. No. He can’t call me. I’m turning my phone off. I’m unavailable for the night. You can handle it, Grice. Yeah. Yeah. Night.”
Cannon pushes off the wall, stalks to the coffee table near the sectional, and tosses his phone onto a stack of newspapers. He jams his hand into his hair, and the shorter pieces stand up on end when he finally looks to where I’m standing in the kitchen, clutching my glass like it’s the Holy Grail.
“Everything okay?” I ask because I think he’s waiting for me to inquire, but also because I’m crazy curious about who could be at the club that would piss him off so much.
