SINFULLY YOURS

Chapter 58: Chapter 58. Use Your Studio

Chapter 58. Use Your Studio

Hick! Hick! Hick! Hick!

The hiccups wouldn’t stop, no matter how much she tried to hold her breath, no matter how much she parted her chest. Her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. The heavy pressure kept seizing her continuously, making her jerk at intervals as the redness in her face deepened.

She took another step back, bending her head to the side as if trying to hide her face from him.

Don didn’t move from the door. He stood frozen on the spot, the shock evident and clear in his eyes. He opened his lips, but he faltered, looking confused about what to say or where to start.

Rosa tried to say something to him, but no matter how hard she tried to compose herself, the hiccups wouldn’t stop.

Oh good Lord, I have never been so embarrassed in my life, she thought to herself.

She turned away, her back to him, squeezing her eyes tightly together and pressing her palm against her forehead. God, let the earth just open up and swallow me, she thought, blinking rapidly as her body kept jerking from the impact.

"Do you want some water?" Don asked from the door.

She still didn’t move. She placed both hands against her waist, breathing hard, keeping her head bent while her shoulders jerked from the persistent hiccups.

"You know I asked a question," he said from the door.

When she still didn’t turn around to look at him, she heard him chuckle, followed by the soft sound of his footsteps against the threshold. She felt his hand wrap around her left hand, pulling her straight inside. She tried to yank her hand away from his grip due to embarrassment, but his hold was too strong. Unable to resist, she allowed him to pull her into the building.

He shut the door behind them, led her over toward the sofa, and made her sit down.

Through it all, she kept her head bent, using her hair as a shield to protect herself from the humiliation. The moment she realized he had walked away, she pressed her palms against her forehead and groaned. She tapped her foot against the floor continuously, gnashing her teeth together.

Of all times, she thought to herself. Of all freaking times, Rosa! You just had to—

She stopped talking and squeezed her eyes shut. Feeling his presence return, she quickly composed herself, placing both hands majestically against her knees while keeping her head bent.

"I have some water here for you," he said.

She still didn’t bother to look up at him.

"Rosa," he called, his voice reverberating throughout the living room.

She kept her eyes tight. Then, she heard the shuffle of his feet as he knelt directly in front of her, extending a cup of water toward her face.

"Water," he said.

She took it, tilting her head to the side so she could use her hair to conceal her face. She heard him chuckle.

What the hell is so funny? she thought.

She slowly took heavy gulps, managing to avoid his gaze entirely. Once the water settled down in her throat, her body finally began to calm down. She breathed softly and gently returned the cup to him.

He took it, but remained kneeling in front of her.

She kept her head turned, staring at the windows, the majestic ceiling, the chandelier, listened the soft hum of the breeze scraping against the glass. The luxurious, sculpted walls suddenly became incredibly interesting to her.

"How long do you plan on avoiding my face?" he asked.

She tightened her eyes, closed them, and breathed out for what felt like the hundredth time.

You’re already here, Rosa, she told herself. It’s not like you can ignore him forever.

She slowly turned around to look at him. He was staring at her with his eyebrows raised, amusement dancing in his eyes.

She pointed a finger at him. "That is not funny."

His smile only widened as he shrugged. "You can’t blame me. It’s not every day I get to see a pretty princess getting all embarrassed because of, you know... a nervous habit."

She gnashed her teeth together. "It’s not a nervous habit! It just happens once in a while."

"Really?" he asked. "Because I can clearly remember this happening the first time you became nervous around me. And now it’s happening again."

"Shut up!" she said instantly.

He chuckled, staring at the ground, and raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, fine. If you say so."

He looked back at her, watching the way she ran her fingers through her hair while keeping her hands resting on her knees. Pushing himself up off the floor, he stood upright.

She was still avoiding his eyes.

"I wanted to ask... did you get a very good look at me at the entrance?"

Her eyes widened, and her face flushed a deep red. "Shut the fuck up!" she exclaimed.

This time, his laughter rang out, echoing all over the living room.

"Go put some shirt on, pervert!" she choked out.

She felt him finally move away. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes and looked to the side. God, I can’t deal with him anymore, she thought.

"You are welcome, too," he said, his voice slowly drifting off as he walked over toward the kitchen.

She ignored him, staring straight ahead and tapping her feet relentlessly against the ground.

A moment later, he slowly returned to her. "I’m surprised you actually came."

He sat down beside her. She turned and saw that he was still shirtless.

She ground her teeth together. "Didn’t you hear what I said before?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I’m sorry, what did you say?"

She scoffed and looked away. "You really are persistent in frustrating me, aren’t you?"

He frowned in confusion. "I don’t understand what you’re talking about."

She shook her head and raised both hands. "Whatever. I’m not in the mood for an argument."

"So am I," he replied. "So, what brings you here?"

She opened her mouth to explain that she wanted to use his studio, but something distracted her. Something caught her attention.

It was an intricate dark ink against his shoulder, drifting up to a section close to his neck that she hadn’t noticed before—a perfectly designed symbol of a Phoenix.

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes tracing over the dark art resting on his glistening, smooth, muscular skin. Her eyelids fluttered. Why the hell does that symbol feel so familiar? she thought, her eyebrows squeezing together as she squinted, peering at it to get a better look.

Don turned to look at her and caught her staring at his shoulder. He glanced down at the tattoo, looked back at her, and chuckled.

"So, now you’re suddenly interested in my naked body?" he asked.

Her face flushed instantly. She lifted her eyes sharply to glare at him. "Can you go for just one day—even just five minutes—without thinking like a degenerate?"

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. "Can’t blame me. It just feels so good to wind you up, you know? Get you a little bit agitated. You look so cute when your face is flushed in anger and embarrassment."

She ground her teeth together. "What the hell is your problem?" she asked. "You’re my uncle. You shouldn’t be saying inappropriate things like this."

He smirked. "Well, not your blood uncle, if you want to be precise."

She frowned. "So what are you suggesting?"

"That I have the right to say whatever inappropriate things I want to say to you, anytime, anywhere," he said.

As he spoke, his face leaned closer and closer to hers. Her heart began an insistent racing rhythm. She had to angle her head backward so his face wouldn’t come in contact with hers as he leaned in.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she asked, her breath soft and raspy.

He smiled, a smirk gracing his lips as he raised an eyebrow. "What the hell does it look like I’m doing?"

Her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. After an agonizing few moments, he chuckled and pulled away, standing up from the sofa.

"You still haven’t told me why you’re here," he finally said.

She remained dazed for a few moments, struggling to pull herself back from whatever dark vortex he had thrown her into. Then she sat upright, running her fingers through her hair in embarrassment, her eyelids blinking out of control.

Oh my God, she thought to herself, finding it suddenly hard to breathe.

She ran her fingers through her hair countless times, brushing through her bangs to pull them to the side, but they kept falling back down, tickling her eyebrows, the bridge of her nose, and brushing against her lashes.

He stood beside her for a while, watching her carefully.

"So, um..." she began. "I... I can... I wanted to... I just... I came to..."

Her words were nothing more than stutters.

He frowned, tilting his head to the side as he scrutinized her with squinted eyes. "You what?" he asked.

She snapped out of her daze, her eyelids fluttering as she looked straight into his face, rubbing her palm against her neck.

"Sorry," she said, trying to overcome her stutter. "I... I wanted to use your studio."

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