Page 78 of Sin

The motion is quiet. Simple. Devastating. He holds it in his palm for one long second, staring at it like it weighs more than anything else in the room. Then he reaches over and sets it on the nightstand. The small sound of metal against wood makes my chest ache.

There’s no pretending now.

Mason looks at me then. Not hiding from what he’s doing. Not letting me hide either.

“If I come back to that bed,” he says, voice low, “I’m not leaving it untouched.”

My body goes hot and my heart hurts. I should say no and remind him of all the reasons he shouldn’t. Instead, I reach for him.

“Please fuck me, Sin.”

His eyes close for half a second. When they open, whatever restraint was left in him is gone. He comes back to the bed, and this time, when his body covers mine, there is nothing careful about the way he kisses me.

His bare skin burns against mine, and I slide my hands over his shoulders, his back, his chest, memorizing every hard line and warm inch I’ve spent months pretending not to want.

He groans when my nails scrape lightly down his stomach.

“I want you,” I whisper.

His mouth crashes into mine again. And this time, when he moves between my thighs, the shame gives in to pleasure. He moves slowly at first, like he’s learning me. Like this is another prototype, another design, another system he intends to master with infuriating precision.

I come apart faster than I expect, with his name caught in my throat. He watches every second of it. Holds me through it. Draws it out until I have to press my palm against his chest and gasp.

For a long moment, we just breathe. Outside, the rain keeps tapping against the window like nothing has changed. Everything’s changed.

Reality crashes back in, cruel and bright. One of us should move, but neither of us do.

Finally, he whispers, “Laurel.”

I know what he’s going to say. We shouldn’t. This can’t happen again. This was a mistake. All the true things.

So I touch his face before he can say any of them.

“Don’t ruin it yet.”

His eyes open. For one second, he looks almost pained. Then he turns his face and kisses my palm.

“Okay,” he says.

He gathers me against him, and I let him. I let my body curl into his like this is something we’re allowed to have. Like the bed isn’t too big and too small. Like tomorrow doesn’t exist.

But it does.

And so does Jenna.

And so does the fact that I just became the woman I swore I would never be.

Still, when Mason kisses me again, I kiss him back. Because the affair doesn’t begin with sex. Not really. It begins with the moment we both know we should stop.

And don’t.

13

Sin

I wake up with Laurel in my arms.

For one moment, before memory catches up, I let myself feel the peace sitting heavy and warm in my chest. Her back is tucked against me. My arm is around her waist. Her hair is spread across the pillow, and the scent of her shampoo drifts toward me every time she breathes. Something soft and floral. Clean. Nothing like Jenna. The thought lands like a blade.