Page 98 of Sin
“Unlock it.”
“No.”
My pulse jumps.
I stand behind my desk, because sitting feels impossible. “Mason.”
His jaw tightens. Wrong name. Or maybe right name.
“I stayed away all day,” he says.
“I know.”
“I gave you what you asked for.”
“I know.”
“I let you walk away from my truck this morning.”
My throat tightens. “You agreed it was better.”
“I agreed because you were shaking in the rain and trying not to cry.” He takes a step closer. “I agreed because I thought maybe one of us should be strong.”
“And now?”
His laugh is quiet.
“Now I’m done pretending I am.”
My heart slams. He comes around my desk slowly and I stand there with my hands braced behind me on the edge of the desk as he stops in front of me, close enough that I can smell rain on his coat and the faint trace of his cologne beneath it.
“I spent the whole day trying to do what you asked,” he says. His voice is low. “I didn’t look at you in the board meeting.”
“I noticed.”
“I didn’t come to your office.”
“Until now.”
“Until now.” His gaze drops to my mouth. Then back to my eyes. “And all I could think about was coming here, locking that door, and telling you the truth.”
My breath catches. “What truth?”
His fingers brush my jaw. The touch is too much after a whole day of nothing.
“The truth is,” he says, “I don’t want normal with you.”
My eyes open. His are dark. Unsteady. Hungry.
“I don’t want polite emails. I don’t want distance. I don’t want to sit across a conference table and pretend I don’t know what you feel like when you come.”
My knees almost give.
“Sin… you’re married.”
His hand falls away. For one second, the room goes cold. His gaze drops to the ring on his finger. Then he slides it off and sets it on my desk beside my keyboard.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
