The Affair (The Evolution of Sin 1)

He held the corner of his smile back so that it was adorably lopsided. “That you did. I hope you don’t mind that I added a few… touches to your masterpiece.”

“Oh?”

“Just a black eye, maybe some purple near the jaw.” He shrugged. “Black and blue are really his colors, you know.”

It was my turn to fight my smile, laughter bubbling up and escaping before I could help it. Sinclair being uncharacteristically playful was impossible to resist. “I agree.”

We grinned at each other like idiots, my hands now holding each of his. I looked down when he did to see his fingers twine slowly with mine and when I met his gaze again, those electric eyes were bright.

“Will you do something with me?”

My belly fluttered with desire despite myself but he laughed and shook his head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Elle, and help me with the blankets.”

Curious, I dutifully followed his orders as we deconstructed the bed, pulling off the heavy blanket and pillows to move them out onto the balcony. He pushed the two lounge chairs together and set up our makeshift bed, presenting it to me with twinkling eyes.

“Bored of the bedroom?”

He walked around to me and ran his knuckles down my cheek before pushing my hair over my shoulder. “Would you like to know the first thing I noticed about you?”

I was oddly breathless so I just nodded.

“It was all this creamy skin. I imagined what it would smell like.” He leaned down and ran his nose along my jaw line. “Lavender and honey. What it would taste like under my tongue.” His tongue smoothed over the shell of my ear before he nipped the lobe. “Even though you were ill, I could imagine how it would look in the sun, under water. I had all these fantasies.”

He tipped my chin up and rubbed a thumb over my pouting bottom lip. “I wanted you under the stars.”

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.

Something flickered across his eyes and was gone. He cocked his head in question.

“Why are you making it impossible for me to walk away with a whole heart?”

A light shudder ran down his spine and I knew it wasn’t from the balmy sea breeze.

“I told you I would hurt you,” he murmured.

I flinched and his hands slid down to my arms so that I wouldn’t turn away. “You did. I guess I’m the villain in this love story then.”

His eyes blazed in the low light. “You are not a villain for caring. I gave you no choice.”

I snorted and tugged my arms from his grip, needing space.

“There is always a choice. And I’m not mad at myself for making it.” Anger flared through the heartache and I stepped so close I was almost standing on his toes. “I would make it again.”

I could see the insecurity in the quirk of his unsmiling mouth and I badly wanted to eradicate it, to burn away all of his considerable self-hatred and replace it with my love.

“Let me love you tonight.” I took his frozen face in my hands and tried to smooth away the distress. “Let me pretend that I’m allowed to love you, that I’m yours. That tomorrow instead of getting on a plane alone, I’ll go back to a life that we share.”

My boldness left me shaky but strangely confident. I could feel my old dull and sensible skin slide away completely, leaving me raw and new and shiny. Even if he rebuffed me, told me to leave right now and never see him again, I would have this – the new me – and that would be enough.

I listened to the breath of the sea on the shore and of Sinclair’s against mine for an interminable time until he sighed deeply and pulled me against him, one hand pressed to my lower back and the other cradling the back of my head, his fingers threaded through my damp hair. It was only a hug and I still had no idea how he really felt about me but somehow it was enough.

I pulled away and pressed a hand to his chest to let him know I wanted him to stay there. When I was sure he understood, I began to slowly undress him, tugging off his expensive scuffed shoes and deftly undoing the catch to his pants that had so eluded me the first night in his bed. When he was gloriously naked, I started to pull my own clothes off but he caught my wrist in his hand and shook his head.

“I like you in my clothes,” he said, taking the hem of his t-shirt in his hands, “but it covers too much of this skin.”

I let him pull the fabric over my head and tried not to quiver when he took a step back to stare at me with burning eyes. I could feel his gaze all over my body, caressing the generous curve of my breasts and tickling the gentle slope of skin down to my heated core. The power of his appreciation bubbled in my blood until I felt woozy like I had imbibed too much champagne.

He groaned and reached for me, tugging my body into his arms with a strong pull that robbed me of breath. It was my turn to moan when he fused his lips to mine, stoking me with hot strikes of his talented tongue. I was ready for a rough fuck, something dirty that would make me flush with embarrassment and lust but he changed the angle of the kiss, pulling back to suck lightly at my bottom lip, then the top. His hands held me delicately, as if I weighed nothing, and when he pressed a knee onto the makeshift bed to lay me down, my descent was so gentle I felt like I landed on a cloud.