Twisted Lies 4
He rasped, “You going somewhere, Sin?”
There was no smile. When he crossed his muscular arms, my eyes traveled up his tall, well-built body that was pure rippling muscle. Hardened abs trailed downward to the waist of his black designer-looking jeans.
Damn, no man should look this fucking good all the time.
“Yep,” I replied. “I’ve got shit to do.”
He arched a brow. “Like?”
“Like it’s none of your business,” I replied while slowly plodding toward him, stepping into his massive kitchen. We stood face-to-face as I leaned my hip against the granite kitchen counter.
He scowled. “That’s where you’re wrong. Everything about you is my business.” He was studying me too closely, his expression brooding.