Sinful

“Oh, sure,” I hear myself mumble.

“Great, dinner starts at eight. Come over whenever you want for pre-dinner drinks.”

When I get back to my apartment, Romain is already waiting for me. He’s sitting on my bed, his head in a book, when I open the door. My journal. He’s reading my journal.

My heart throbs wildly until he grins at me. “How did you—”

He sets down the book and produces a key to my apartment. “I got the key back from Carter.”

“You’re not meant to be reading that,” I chastise, watching as he closes it shut, waiting for my pulse to go back to normal.

He laughs—an easy one that reaches his eyes. “Because it’s all about me?”

“No,” I scowl. Yes. My face heats up.

He laughs again. “Come the fuck here.”

He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m in his arms, breathing him in as he consumes me with just one kiss.

“You got the key back from Carter? So does that mean I’m safe?” I ask, breaking away to come up for air.

His face darkens. “They won’t touch you again.”

I shake my head. “I don’t trust Zane.”

“That fucker won’t come near you if he wants to keep on breathing,” he snarls. He tilts his head, blue eyes boring into mine as he wipes a stray tear that seems to have fallen. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No one saw you come in, did they?” I ask, glancing at the clock. As much as I would love to lie on the bed with him all night and do this, I need to be at Helen’s for eight.

“Not my first fucking rodeo, love.”

I frown at that, something dark spiking my gut, but he just grins. “Are you jealous?”

Yes. You were my first. “No.”

“You’re a fucking liar,” he chides, eyes aglow as they take in his mark of ownership snug around my neck. “I hoped you would wear it. I picked it out especially.”

“I was never going to wear the leather one.”

“Maybe not in public,” he teases, kissing along the edge of the choker, continuing down my neck.

“You know we can’t keep doing this.” It feels like I’m saying a line. I’ve said it so many times.

“I’ll do what the hell I like. You’re mine now,” he says in a low voice. “Tonight, I’m going to claim the fuck out of you.” He bites down, making me cry out.

“I can’t. I promised Helen I’d go to her founder’s dinner.”

He pulls back, a frown marring his brow. “You’re going to that?”

“I am. Why?”

For a moment, he looks annoyed, his fingers digging in my flesh where he grips me. “My father will be there.”

“Ow, that hurts.”

“Sorry.” Romain apologizes, but he doesn’t look sorry. He just looks thunderous.

“Is there a problem with me meeting him?” I ask. Turmoil coils in my gut. He mentioned his father knew about me before. What does he know?