Page 10 of Sin

“You think this is one-sided?” he asks softly.

The question steals the air from my lungs because there’s no arrogance in it this time. No teasing. No smug confidence. Just honesty and it’s raw enough to terrify me.

I glance down right at the wedding band still wrapped around his finger. And whatever dangerous thing was trying to grow between us dies immediately. I push back from my desk and stand.

“I think,” I say carefully, “that you’re married, Mr. Sinclair.”

Something unreadable flashes across Mason’s face before his expression shutters completely. When he speaks again, his voice is calm and controlled.

“Yes.”

That single word settles between us like a locked door.

Good.

It needs to stay locked.

For both our sakes.

3

Sin

I get the fuck out of Laurel’s office before I do something reckless, like kiss her.

My chest is tight, my jaw locked so hard it aches, and my cock is painfully hard behind the zipper of my slacks. The damn thing throbs with every step I take down the hallway, reminding me exactly how close I came to losing control in there.

Jesus Christ.

All because she looked at me with those big sea green eyes and that stubborn mouth while pretending she didn’t feel the same thing I did. Bullshit. She felt it. I know she did. I watched it happen. Saw the exact second her breathing changed when I leaned over her desk. Saw her pupils widen when I said her name.

And then she looked at my wedding ring and shut down so fast it felt like getting punched in the throat.

Good.

That should’ve been the end of it.

Instead, all I can think about is dragging her into my lap and forcing that sharp little mouth to stop arguing long enough for me to kiss her. Fuck. I stalk into my office and nearly groan when I see Wilder sitting in the guest chair across from my desk.

Out of all my brothers, Wilder looks the most like me. Same dark hair. Same size. Same permanent expression that makes people nervous. The only difference is he looks like he belongs in a prison fight. Right now, the bastard looks entertained.

I close the door behind me and head for my desk, resisting the urge to adjust myself because Wilder will absolutely notice.

“Yes?”

He leans back in the chair casually. “Want to tell me what in the hell is going on?”

I sit down slowly. “You’ll need to narrow that down.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He gestures vaguely toward the hallway. “Maybe we start with the fact that you looked two seconds away from bending Laurel Cross over the conference table.”

I go still.

“Wilder,” I warn quietly.

Wilder grins immediately. “That bad, huh?”

I glare at him.