Wrapped in Sin

By Dee Dinh

Anatashia Montgomery is caught between a rock and a hard place. Torn between a pact made with her girlfriends and a forbidden tryst with a billionaire playboy.
Succumbing to her desire, Anatashia's one-night stand with Connor leaves her wanting more... much more than she ever thought. Is she willing to jeopardize her friendships and possibly her heart to a man off-limits like Area 51?

Connor Scott only needed one night with Ana. He is convinced the encounter will stave off his aching blue balls and will satisfy his lingering lust. But, is one night truly enough? Can he really resist staying away and sticking to his cardinal rule of only one night? 'One night only. Yes to fucky-sucky. No to anything more.' Or, will he relinquish and sin instead to be with Ana again and again...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dee Dinh
• Release date: Dec 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370989232

Dee Dinh

Dee Dinh lives near the tip of Southern Maryland, in a lair of mischievous sins and wickedness which is far from the truth that she likes to share with other people. When she’s not writing wickedly fun contemporary romance novels you can find her working on her arts and crafts or experimenting with a new recipes in her kitchen.

Book preview

Wrapped In Sin

Sin Series – Book Two

By

Dee Dinh

TABLE OF CONTENTS

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

About the Author

Books by Dee Dinh

Chapter 1

Connor

Damn it! Where the hell did she go? I let out a heavy sigh as I run my fingers through my hair. I have been waiting down here in the lobby for her, certain that she was going to exit from the elevators. But she never appeared. Where the heck did she go?

Here I am pacing across the grand lobby of the hotel looking for Ana. That’s all I know about her. Damn it! What the fuck?! I still don’t know her last name. Anger surges through me for not knowing this. How can this be possible? How can I still not know her last name? Well, it’s not from a lack of trying to get it.

Maggie was supposed to get her personnel file for me to review prior to last night’s event, but thanks to some computer system upgrade I will have to wait until tomorrow to take a peek at it.

After I had gotten her situated in bed last night, she was fast asleep. Her purse started to buzz and rattle across the coffee table. I wasn’t going to open the damn thing but it wouldn’t stop vibrating. It kept clattering against the wooden table and making these loud obnoxious noises. I didn’t want it to wake her up so; I had no choice but to open her purse. That was such a no, no. My mother had always said, ‘You never go through a woman’s purse without her permission. It’s sacred. It’s a woman’s treasured belonging. She never goes anywhere without it. And, to open it without her permission is like peeling back a layer of her. Finding and discovering things that you are unaware of, things that she might want or might not want you to know about her.’

I hate to admit it but my mother was right. What I found in Ana’s purse was not quite what I was expecting. Her purse contained the usual items: money, keys, lipstick, cell phone and condoms. Fuck me. Lots of condoms, they were bright and neon. Yes, neon. The glow-in-the-dark kind of neon. Hmm, it was obvious that she wanted to get her groove on with somebody... Anybody and have some kind of a sexathon with the amount of condoms that she had stocked away in her purse.

Was I her targeted victim or some other lucky Joe Shmoe? Ana couldn’t have known that I was attending the gala. Maggie didn’t RSVP for me until the last minute. So she probably was going to hook up with some random guy, some other lucky bastard if I didn’t intervene and come along when I did. The idea of her banging and humping someone else was making me sick.

I don’t know what it is about this woman but I need to claim on her as mine. Mine and mine alone. Odd, since I barely know her at all.

This is crazy! I want to go all alpha male on her and declare, ‘You, Jane. Me, Tarzan!’ Shit! Is this why I am infatuated with her? Because of that conversation that I overheard her telling her girlfriend, the conversation where she expressed wanting a wild animalistic beastie hook-up? The same conversation that she wanted a man, any man, to go all Neanderthal with her and take her, ravage her and do what he pleased with her. Is this why I simply can’t get her out of my mind?

I shake my head and mumble, No. That can’t be the reason. Can it? I rub my hands across my face. There’s more to it, right? There has to be.

My mind wanders back to last night and those colorful condoms in her purse. Did Ana have some kind of fetish having sex with vegetables and animals? Were the color condoms her preference on the type of fruit and vegetables she liked? Yellow for banana, green for cucumber, purple for eggplant? And, when she talked about having animalistic beastie crazy sex did she really mean with animals?

My guess is not but one has to ask that nowadays. She didn’t seem like that type of woman but then you never know. Some women get their rockers off by inserting crazy objects such as fruits and vegetables into their pussy like bananas, cucumbers, squash, any kind that has somewhat of a round end to it. Some women even get off by humping an animal like their pet dog, goat, or even their horse. As crazy as it sounds some women do really get off on that kind of thing. Or, did Ana just enjoy watching a guy flaunt his colorful glow stick around while working it in and out of her pussy?

My guess would be the latter. I searched her purse for an identification card or driver’s license but there was none. How could she not have one? Who leaves home without one?

Then I tried scrolling through the contacts, hoping her personal information would be on the phone. Without the code, I couldn’t even answer the damn thing. Before turning it off, I dialed the phone number that she gave me the day we first met. I needed to verify that it was indeed her phone number and not some fake punk’d phone number.

I was pleased to see her cell phone ringing and then turned it off. Now, I wonder why she did not pick up when I had called her. What was the point of giving out your phone number if you’re not going to answer it?

And, what was the deal with her always sneaking off and running away from me? Hmm... What could she be hiding?

I stayed up all night watching her. Man, oh, man! It was pure torture. I shouldn’t have undressed her from the evening gown she wore... So off it went and the sight before me was beyond words. The images of her from last night were now embedded in my mind.

There she was looking all angelic and sprawled out in a king size bed wearing this skimpy, next-to-nothing sheer piece of lace that barely covered her privates. Her blond hair fanned out across the pillow, giving the aura of a halo. Her soft skin glowing, milky white and dazzlingly luscious. I gasped at the site of her beauty. Stunning! Gorgeous! Abso-fucking-lutely beautiful!

I couldn’t stop staring at her. I was completely and utterly fixated on her. She had somehow bewitched me. I yearned to touch her. It took all of my willpower not crawl into bed, take her into my arms and have her completely naked beneath me. Locking ours eyes together, my dark blues gazing into her emerald greens, I would dip down and suck on those glorious pink lips and fuck her senseless until she screamed my name.

But she was too drunk, too passed out for me to do any of that with her. So I let her rest. I have never been a big fan of taking advantage of a woman in that type of condition. Nope, not me. I like the woman to be wide awake ready and willing to participate with me.

I reached out and gently stroked her hair, the strands so soft and silky they slipped easily through my fingers. Ana let out a little moan. Not wanting to wake her, I pulled my hand away and settled back in my seat to gaze at her. I studied and admired all the lovely lines, angles and curves of her body. She looked so peaceful and serene. It made me want to care for her and protect her. I felt a need to protect her and care for her. There was no doubt in my mind that this woman had caught my attention and captivated me.

I let out a heavy sigh and wonder how in the hell I could have let her slip by me like that this morning? I watched her like a hawk all night long and the one time I decided to take a break, stretch my legs, and get some fresh air, she woke up and snuck out on me. Un-fucking-believable!

This woman is going to drive me bonkers. There are so many unanswered questions about her but they will all be answered soon. As a matter of fact, I’ll have her singing all of her answers to me tomorrow.

I reach for my smartphone and send a text to my personal assistant Maggie. ‘Please have her and that file in my office first thing tomorrow morning.’

In a matter of minutes, my phone chirps back, letting me know that I’ve receive a new message in my email. I tap the email icon and scan the new message.

From: Maggie Alberts (malberts@cosholdings...)

To: Connor Scott (cscott@cosholdings...)

Date: April 27 8:35am

Subject: Monday Morning Schedule

Good morning Mr. Scott,

It will be taken care of. I’ll have them send her personnel file to your email first thing in the morning and I’ll have her report to your office once she arrives at work.

Respectfully,

Maggie

With a firm nod and a huge grin on my face, not that Maggie can see, I text back, ‘Thank you! See you tomorrow.’

Chapter 2

Anatashia

BAM! BAM! BAM! Buzzz... Buzzzzz... BAM! BAM! Buzzz... Arrgh... I grumble with my face buried into the pillow while my head throbs painfully. Rolling over, I reach for my cell phone to turn off the alarm. Buzzz... Buzzz... My fingers tap and dance aimlessly across the nightstand next to the bed but I don’t feel anything. So I extend my digits a little bit further and still nothing. Ugh! Where is it?

BAM! BAM! Buzzz... That noise is getting even louder. BAM! Buzzz... BAM!

My body bolts straight up into a sitting position. Shit! What the hell? That’s not the alarm. Someone is at the front door. Who in the heck could that be, banging on the door like that?

Coming! I shout as I stumble out of bed and shuffle my way towards the front door. The banging continues. The door rattles from its hinges from the sheer force.

My head is pounding even more now from the constant noise. This better be good or I’m going to kill whoever it is. Looking through the peephole, I see it’s Joshua, the security guard for my apartment building, holding his arm up in midair just as he’s about to beat the door again.

As I open the door, I am suddenly knocked over and wrapped in a huge embrace by my three dearest friends, Hope, Tabitha and Samantha.

Omigod woman! Tabitha squeals. She squeezes me a little tighter and then swats my arm as she breaks free from the group hug. Thank goodness you’re okay. I was worried sick about you last night. Why didn’t you text me to let me know that you were alright?

Uh... Well... Uhh, I stammer.

Well? Tabitha queries, with hands on her hips.

Looking befuddled, I groggily reply, Well, what? my hangover is taking over my ability to grasp her interrogation.

Why didn’t you at least tell me or text me last night that you were leaving? I was worried sick about you. And why didn’t you answer my calls? I called you all night long, Tabitha demands.

While yawning and stretching my arms above my head, I mumble, Oh sorry. I must have fallen asleep and didn’t hear the phone.

Tabitha’s mouth gapes open. She’s about to say something else when Sam interrupts her, Alright, alright. Let it go for now, she pats Tabitha on the back.

It’s obvious that she doesn’t want to talk about it yet. Just look at her. Can’t you see that she did the walk of shame this morning? Her hair and dress is all rumpled after a good night of wild crazy sex. She’ll share her sexcapade with us later when she’s good and ready, Sam turns to me and gives me a wink and a smile.

Wha... What? I didn’t do the walk of shame this morning? I shriek.

Okay, denying it probably didn’t help my situation at this moment. Sam is partially right. I did do the walk of shame out to the back alley. However, there was nothing to be ashamed of since I didn’t do anything with Connor last night. Right?

Sexcapade? Did I even have sex with Connor last night? I shake my head. No, no. I didn’t think I did but damn that would completely suck ass if I did have sex with him and I can’t remember any of it.

I recall Connor and me kissing and fondling each other but I don’t remember much after that. I recollect Connor calling out to me this morning, ‘Stop! Ana... Wait!’ I was too embarrassed and too much of a wuss to turn around and face him, so I ran away instead.

I pressed the down button calling for the elevator but it was taking forever and Connor would have arrived any moment. I looked anxiously around for another escape route when the elevator arrived and the doors slid open. I hopped in to press a button then hopped back out for it to descend on its own. I quickly ducked into an alcove and hid behind the cleaning cart. When I heard Connor approaching and mumbling a string of curses, I bit the inside of my cheeks to stifle a giggle. After listening to the elevator open and close once more and heard silence, I hurriedly ran down two flights of stairs then opened the exit door on the next floor. With my heart racing and my head pounding, I ran to the service elevator and rode it all the way down to the main floor of the hotel.

As I peered out in the hotel lobby, I saw Connor pacing back and forth near the bank of elevators. Just like I suspected, he was looking for me. So I continued staggering my way down the employee hallways until I reached a door that led me out to one of the alleys behind the hotel.

From there I hailed a cab and ventured on my journey home. It was a rough ride thanks to New York City’s potholes and the bozo cab driver that did nothing to evade them. He purposely ran over each and every one of them until I threatened to chuck and heave in the backseat. Then he jerked the car left and right, weaving in and out of traffic just to avoid them. I don’t know what was worse, the jerking and weaving in and out of traffic or the direct dipping from the potholes; either way it was nauseating.

When we reached the front of my apartment building, I thrashed the cab door open, leaned over and puked everything out onto the sidewalk, creating my very own Picasso. Art at it’s finest on the sidewalk in New York City on a bright and sunny day. Lovely. Just lovely.

Meanwhile, the cab driver was hollering for me to pay him, get out of his cab, and not get any of it in his car. He was so daggone inconsiderate. He didn’t even step out of the vehicle to assist me. Instead, he just kept shouting and bellowing at me to pay and get out of his cab. Oh, I paid him alright. I grabbed my money, swirled it around in my Picasso, and threw it at him. Then he cursed at me and sped off. I did what every typical New Yorker would do. I cursed him back and flicked him off with a few of my own hand gestures. Dickwad!

Hellooo? Ana? Hello? Hope utters, as she snaps her fingers in front of my face.

I blink a few times before giving her a rueful smile, Sorry. Were you asking something?

Wow! He did a number on you. Who is he? Hope asks coolly.

He? He who? I reply.

The guy that you hooked up with. Quit jerking us around and tell us about your sexcapade. What happened last night? Tabitha demand.

I stare back at Tabitha, then at Hope and Sam, Look, I didn’t hook up with anyone last night. I don’t know what to tell you but you’re barking up the wrong tree here.

Okay, I’m feeling a tad guilty right now for lying to my friends the way that I just did. I have never deliberately lied to them before. Never ever. Oh well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.

As a matter of fact, I don’t even remember how I got home. All I remember is waking up this morning with my face smashed into my pillow and my gown all rumpled and twisted as I lay on top of the bed.

Eeeeek! Another lie! What the heck is wrong with me? It’s like I’ve open up Pandora’s box and now I can’t seem to stop whatever’s in it from coming out.

I pat the topside of my hair trying to smooth it out only to feel wads of knotted tangles throughout my head. Oh, my... This can’t be good. With a grimace face, I saunter over to the mirror in the living room and to my dismay the image that stares back at me is terribly frightening. My golden tresses stick straight up and out in tufts in every which way. It definitely had that sex-crazed, just-fucked hair muss to it. My makeup... Ay! It didn’t look any better. Lipstick smears stained my pillow creased-cheek and mascara smudges down my face giving me raccoon eyes.

OMG! Did I look like this when I snuck out of the hotel earlier today or did this just happen when I fell asleep at home? Oh, good gracious! Please let it be the latter. No man in his right mind would want to wake up to a woman looking like this.

Remember what they