The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity Book 2) (24 page)

“Keaton,” he cooed. “It’s time. I know you’re worried, but I think it’s unfounded.” His movement was heard. He took my hand, leading me to stand. 

He guided me out of the restaurant, easily seeing his way through the dark. I remained behind him, trailing him as we exited and wound up on the sidewalk outside the entrance to the restaurant. I studied what he was wearing, the tailored black dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, and slacks. 

The second he turned to face me, I closed my eyes.

I panicked and became unreceptive. 

As he tilted my chin up, I kept my eyes closed. Overcoming me in strength, he thrust my chin up at a severe angle, forcing my eyes to shoot open and settle on his face.

“Wow,” I said without thinking as I beamed. It was impossible not to be taken by his appearance. The fine features. The defined and distinct attributes of his face. It was a face that was made for display; like the man used to represent luxury brand colognes or advertising watches in black and white photographs or two-minute commercials of silence where the man’s swagger and appearance captivated the audience to such an extent he didn’t need to speak.

His veneer of beauty was a stark contrast to the presence the man had; his facial features toyed with the line dividing masculinity and femininity. I’d imagined bits of his face from my foggy memory of him at Rebirth but fell hopelessly short. 

I had become his captivated one-member audience.

“Wow?” His dark rose lips swelled in the center and tapered perfectly in the corners, giving him a natural and very enticing pout. “Is that something I should be worried about? Is there something wrong?” 

As I remained silent and stared at him, his mouth curled up at the corners in a magnetizing way. I was never one to think about it. If sex ever manifested into flesh and bone, Braedan would’ve been its perfect example. 

He slid his hands in his pockets and lifted a thick, naturally curved brow over one of his ice-grey eyes. “Keaton?”

I studied his strong forearms, slowly working my way back up to his entrancing gaze. “Your face…” I cleared away the grit in my voice. “I should’ve remembered you.”

His smile deepened and completely erased away my composure. “Why would you have?”

“As typical and slightly trite as this is probably going to sound.” I looked down because I couldn’t endure saying the words while holding his eye contact. “You have to be the most beautiful”—
sexiest
—“man I’ve ever seen.”

His hand gently shifted under my chin, lifting my head to look at him. His broad smile, showcasing gleaming white teeth stood as a stark contrast over the sudden reddening of his razor sharp cheekbones. “It would count as the most generous thing anyone has ever said to me. You’re amazing for my ego.”

My smile broadened more than I thought possible. “I didn’t think you had an ego.”

“I don’t, but I’m trying to talk my way out of persistently blushing at your compliments.”

“Have you been hiding in a cave your whole life? How is it that you don’t hear this all the time?”

Something changed in his eyes. It was a marked sadness that affected me deeply. If ever I thought our connection wouldn’t remain once we were no longer in the dark, I was wrong. It was stronger. Much, much stronger. I was completely enraptured and quickly developed a craving for more of what he brought out of me when he was around.

I quickly took one of his hands and linked my pinky around his, drawing his eye back to me. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head and dropped his hand from my face. “It’s late. I should take you home.” Slipping his hand fully into mine, he walked me back to the valet station, keeping me close to the buildings while he walked on the side of the curb, taking a protective stance over me.

UPON MY ARRIVAL TO my parents’ home after my dinner with Braedan, I received a text. Braedan wanted to make sure I was safe.  

I wasn't used to Braedan’s brand of chivalry, but I was slowly becoming accustomed to it.

Two weeks after I attended the dinner with Braedan, Brandy showed up to my parents’ home and pulled me out of the idea of curling up with a good book and forced me into a party dress. I kept up my correspondence with Braedan, usually exchanging texts with him or having conversations about the mundane. We spoke at least twice a day and exchanged texts numerous times in between. We never spoke about Rebirth or anything regarding Noah again.

BRANDY TUGGED ME OUT of the car, parked at the curb in front of her house, and into the brownstone she shared with her on again off again live-in boyfriend. He was a pharmaceutical representative, currently on a business trip to Orlando.

At the front door, men in togas and roman gladiator armor were lined up along the foyer. The men were brawny and painted in gold metallic body paint. All the models wore masks depicting Greek gods. 

Brandy was always known as the socialite party girl. She usually hosted themed parties every week. Her celebrations were responsible for putting many up and coming clubs on the map. 

“This had to be your idea.” I finally cracked a smile. “You’re obsessed with
Spartacus
.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Laughing heartedly, she put an arm around my neck. “All those hot sweaty men and huge cocks? It’s a girl like me’s dream.” 

The crowd was numerous, and I found it strangely comforting.

Linking my arm with hers, I walked alongside her into the living room area. “What’s this really about?” 

“It’s your birthday tomorrow. Did you forget? And since I know your mother probably has some stuffy event planned to celebrate the occasion, I’m doing this for you. Consider it your pre-party party.” Brandy stopped walking and stepped in front of me. “I’m trying to get you out of your funk.” She grasped a lock of my hair and flipped it over my shoulder. “You shouldn’t be in one. Noah doesn’t deserve your depression. He was an asshole, and I for one am glad that he’s out of your life.” From one of the trays wielded by a costumed man, she grabbed a glass of champagne and insisted I drink it.

I sipped it to appease her but kept from downing the entire glass. I was still on a strict pain management regime. While I could’ve stopped taking the pills, I was concerned about the effects of the withdrawal from the strong painkillers. “Thank you for doing this.”

She smiled, topped off my glass unnecessarily with another glass from the tray, and then promptly directed me to mingle with the crowd.

An hour into the party, after catching up with a few acquaintances, I navigated my way down the hall and found the den. A few people were there in the midst of having a quiet conversation.

“Are you guys going to be here for a while?” I asked them.

Without changing the pace of their conversation, they nodded at me. I sat on the couch across the room and relaxed back, closing my eyes. Their informal exchange served as comforting background noise.

A sudden pressure inside my chest forced me to jolt upright. Perusing the once heavily occupied room, I found myself completely alone. Panicked, I stood up. A man cleared his voice in the doorway. As he stood there in one of the more revealing uniforms, my body turned rigid.

The gold paint he was decorated in tended to matte and amplify maybe not the best parts; he was an exception. His body was a perfect model for his costume. The dips and curves of his form were a beautiful roadmap that sent a tinge straight down my spine and to the area between my thighs. I could barely see his eyes through the almond shaped holes of his gold mask, shielded in black mesh. 

In front of him, he held up a small, golden brown bunt cake, drizzled with creamy frosting, and maybe caramel, topped with a sprinkling of coconut shavings. My stomach instantly growled, longing for a taste of what was in his hands. The cake provided at the party, a massive chocolate cake in the shape of two penises with accents of white butter cream frosting, was less than appetizing for two reasons.

It was definitely within Brandy’s modus operandi to hire an escort to seduce me out of my sour mood. The man before me was monumentally tempting and it wasn’t due to his external appearance. Deeply, I felt as though I might have known him. 

I became conscious of how alone we were and could no longer hear the crowd down the hall.

Thoughts swirled around my mind stating that he was Braedan. The familiarity kept the need to panic and run at bay.

“Did…Brandy put you up to this?” I asked, trying to keep my words carefully selected to avoid offending him if he wasn’t actually an escort and I actually
did
know him and he
was
Braedan.

“Not…really.”

The sound of his voice immediately soothed me. “Braedan.” I grinned and approached him. “I—”

He held up a finger, stopping shy of my lips and shook his head, deeming my apology unnecessary. “I came bearing contraband.” 

“Oh?” I walked forward with a bit more sway in my hips leaving only the cake to divide the distance between us. 

He lit the candle implanted in the cake and it sparkled and fizzled, illuminating the room in an amber light.

My smile was untamed and uncontrolled. “That’s your idea of contraband?”

“You haven’t tasted the cake.” His head angled down for a moment before leveling at me. “I was right about your smile.”

Becoming self-conscious, I unsuccessfully tried to temper it. “Right how?”

“It might’ve been something I said in my head. It’s…spell-binding.”

My cheeks puffed out as I began to grin broadly. “Can I see your face again, Mr. Michaels? ”

“It’s not Sander or Mr. Michaels. Please, call me Braedan. After all, we did have a first date, didn’t we?”

 I stepped closer. “It wasn’t a date.”

He never moved, and though I couldn’t see his gorgeous eyes to determine it, the weight of his stare was tangible.

“Okay,” I simpered, “it
was
a date.” My eyes lingered over his body, perusing his form. Every muscle on his upper body was nicely defined, making him appear quietly strong. He lifted the mask from his face and tossed it onto the nearest item—a chair. Strands of his moderately angular haircut grazed across his broad jaw. He brushed his hand up to move his gleaming black hair from his face. 

How can he be real?
I sank my incisors into the plump flesh at the corner of my mouth. “It’s really nice to see you again.” My attention was pulled to the textured area of his shoulder to what I assumed could’ve been a burn scar running along his neck.

“I was invited to the party by Brandy, and of course, informed it was the day before your birthday.” His heavy lids came down across his eyes. His thick, glistening lashes—that belonged on a strip and sold as mink eyelashes—cast a shadow over his bright grey eyes.  “The mask…was more or less a coincidence.”

“Are you sure it was Brandy who invited you and not Veronica?”

“They were both…very convincing. Not that I needed their persuasion to see you again.” 

I touched my neck as his words blazed a trail on my skin. “Seems like my mind is never clear to ask you the right things when you’re around. I understand why you’re helping me, but this? Why you were so drawn to me? A connection doesn’t just begin with a news story about my ordeal, and we never interacted at Rebirth.”