L. Marie Adeline- S.E.C.R.E.T

slight Cajun accent, too, local and very sexy. He unzipped his hoodie, shrugged it o
and whipped it across the oor to get a better look at his injured elbow. He was
oblivious of the fact that he was revealing a boxer’s torso under his white tank top, with
intricate tattoos covering his arms and shoulders.
“That’s going to be a really nice bruise tomorrow morning,” he said, standing next to
me.
He wasn’t tall, but his sexy brutishness gave him incredible presence. After he shook
off the last vestiges of pain, he stretched backwards, taking me in.
“Wow. You’re really pretty,” he said.
“I … think we have a first-aid kit or something around here.”
As I walked past him towards the oce, he grabbed me by the elbow and gently
tugged me close to him.
“So? Will you?”
“Will I what?” I asked. Hazel. The eyes were definitely hazel.
“Will you do this Step with me?”
“That’s not how you’re supposed to say it.”
“Damn,” he said, racking his brain.
He was so cute, but not too swift, this one, which I suppose didn’t matter.
“You’re supposed to ask, ‘Will you accept the Step?’ ”
“Right. Will you accept the Step?”
“Here? Now? With you?”
“Yeah. Here. Now. With me,” he said, cocking his head, giving me a crooked smile.
Despite his rough-hewn exterior, and a hairline scar on his upper lip, he had the whitest
teeth I’d ever seen. “Are you going to make me beg?” he added. “Okay, then. Pretty
please?”
I was enjoying this. A lot. And decided to play it out a little longer. “What are you
going to do to me?”
“I know this one,” he said. “I’m going to do everything you want, nothing you don’t.”
“Good answer.”
“See? I don’t totally suck.” So sweet and so sexy. “So? Will you accept the Step?”
“Which one is it?”
“Uh … three, I think. Trust?”
“Right,” I said, surveying the damage in the kitchen. “You come in here just as I’m
closing and wreak the kind of havoc that’s going to keep me here after hours cleaning
up.” I put my hands on my hips and squinted at him as though I had to really think
about my choice. This was too much fun. “And do you really think you’re in any shape
to—”
“I don’t get it. Are you saying you don’t accept the Step?” He winced as though in real
pain. “Fuck, I screwed up.”
After a good, long pause, I said, “Nah. I’ll … accept the Step.”
“Wooo!” he said, clapping his hands hard, which sent me giggling. “I won’t let you
down, Cassie,” he said, icking o the uorescent overheads, leaving us lit only by the
warm glow of the streetlights streaming in through the kitchen cutout. He took a step