Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club 4)

“All right, we’re okay,” I said.

His expression was cryptic. “Are we?”

I sucked in air and swallowed it down. “Yes.” I gathered strength as I padded up to him and pressed a hand in the center of his chest. “Yes, we are.”

His relieved smile made my knees turn to rubber.

“Good.” He covered my hand with his, threading his fingers between mine. His expression turned serious and his voice dropped low. “I need to tell you a secret.”

His heart pounded beneath my fingertips and my blood ran cold. “What is it?”

“I think I might be in love with you.”

Holy shit! I jerked against his hand, but he kept me locked in place.

“And I don’t want you thinking,” he continued, “it has anything to do with what we did tonight. This happened before that.”

An invisible force squeezed my chest so tight I couldn’t speak. I was ecstatic. And terrified.

“Hey, relax,” he said as I tried again unsuccessfully to back away. He was too close, too perfect. “I’m going to make this really easy for you. I get that your instinct is to run, and I’m not taking it personally.” His mouth turned up into a sad smile. His other hand pushed my robe to the side and he traced his fingers over the scar hiding beneath his art. “Just tell me you love me for tonight. Tomorrow we can go back to however you want it to be.”

His words made me scatter worse than the glass I’d broken. I trembled in his hands, even as I ordered my body to stop it.

“Silas,” I whispered.

“I love you.” His thumb brushed over the scar, sending the same sparks it had the first time he’d done it, before he’d put the tattoo on me.

My body wouldn’t listen, and neither would my heart. “I love you,” I answered back, “just for tonight.”

He pawed at the knot holding my robe closed and threw it open, pressing the length of his hot body against my quaking one. His kiss had the world dropping out from beneath me, and I hung onto him, desperate.

What was I doing? I shouldn’t lift the floodgates on my emotions until I was completely honest.

You could tell him.

He’d said he was in love with me which, if true, meant he’d accept why I’d lied for months. But what if he didn’t? What if he chose to protect Joseph over me? Silas had known Joseph for years, and he’d helped Silas get his gallery off the ground. And Joseph had come clean with Silas about his dirty secret.

His hands were distracting inside the robe, sliding over my back, down to squeeze a handful of my ass. God, I loved the feel of his hands. His palms were rough from when he lifted weights, or his art, or life, and it felt amazing against my skin.

I went weightless as he lifted me up, naturally causing my legs to wrap around his waist. I was seated on the kitchen tabletop and as he pressed me back, his mouth moved lower. My hands were on his shoulders, kneading and massaging.

“I thought you were thirsty,” I said.

“I am. Can’t you tell?”

I meant it teasing, but with most of my jokes, he picked up on the truth beneath. “I don’t deserve you,” I whispered.

His tone was playful. “Shut the fuck up, Regan.” He feathered kisses down to the hollow of my throat, inching toward my breasts. “Or do I need to make you?”

“Oh, by all means, make me.”

He laughed, and then, holy fuck, he did.

Shane’s expression was horror. “Run that by me again?”

I laced my fingers together and rested them on the conference table. My stomach was a tangled mess of nerves, but I steeled my voice to sound confident. “I’ll give Roland what he wants. I’ll get on the table, let him negotiate a deal, and then we’ll have him.”

“No,” Shane snarled. “There’s no way I’m signing off on that.”