I bite my lip, my skin going warm. “You’re flirty even in the middle of the night,” I tease before turning to look back at my painting. “What are you doing up?”
His fingers reach out and grasp my chin before I have time to fully turn away, tugging my gaze back to him. “I think the better question is, why are you up?” he murmurs.
“You know why,” I say quietly.
I don’t like talking about the things I feel—the frustration and fear and worry—because it makes them real. Painting is different, because sometimes when it’s on the canvas, it doesn’t feel like me, but talking about it means confronting those feelings.
Elias tugs me toward him, wrapping me in his arms as my cheek rests against his chest. He doesn’t press me to talk, just holds me like that for a long moment as we breathe together.
I release a shuddery breath. “I’m frustrated,” I finally admit, and the words come out harsh. “I hate that even now, even though I’ve confronted everything, so many memories are still escaping me.”
The important ones. The ones that could put Alan behind bars.
The why and the how.
That’s what I really need to know.
“And what’s even worse,” I go on, digging my fingers into the muscles of his back, “I feel like part of the reason that’s happening is because deep down, I don’t really want to remember. It’s crazy to even think about, but for as fucked up as my childhood was after age eleven, the shitty parts that I can remember, I’m pretty sure that what came before was even worse.”
Elias pulls back enough to look down at me. One thumb reaches up to swipe away the single hot tear that rolls down my cheek. Then he drops his head and brushes a kiss against the spot where his thumb just touched, the contact of his lips soft and fleeting.
“Sometimes, it feels like it’s my fault for not remembering,” I admit. “And sometimes, I’d almost rather go back to not knowing, to making up my own versions of what my childhood was.”
His gaze softens, and he pulls me against his bare chest again, burying his face in my neck. His nose brushes against the sweet spot between my neck and shoulder, his lips against my skin, his soft hair tickling my chin and jaw.
“I know I can’t relate. Not really,” he whispers, kissing my pulse. “And I know you’re not a damsel in distress who needs rescuing. But I want to rescue you, Blue. You’re my purpose now. Keeping you safe, and beyond that, making you happy. Not just now, but for as long as I can imagine. That’s all I want.”
He means it. Every single word. I can hear it in the way his voice goes hoarse with emotion, feel it in the way he wraps himself around me as he says the words.
When he lifts his head and looks down at me, my heart swells. I’ll admit, it scares the shit out of me, just like I suspect it scares the shit out of him to lay his heart so bare. But this thing between us, between all of us, is too big to be held back by fear.
And I’m done fighting it.
When I was a little girl, Alan Montgomery taught me that no one could be trusted. He taught me to fight. He made me so jaded, so fucked up, I thought I would never trust again.
But the Sinners? They taught me that trust is real. They taught me that sometimes, there are fights that are worth giving up on.
So when Elias leans in and kisses me, I give up the fight.
I surrender completely.
11
Elias’s scent fills my nostrils as his lips move against mine. It’s fresh and sweet, some combination of his body wash and the scent of his skin, and it’s addictive as fuck.
I want to wrap myself up in it, to drown in it.
“God, I can never get enough of you, Blue,” he groans softly, his hands framing my face as he kisses me over and over.
“Me too,” I whisper, my fingertips moving over his back and shoulders.
The warmth of his skin seeps into my body everywhere I touch him. I can feel the bulge of his cock through his sweats, and I love that it just takes a few kisses to get him hard for me. Ready for me. Hungry for me.
It’s only fair, because I’m already wet for him.
Wrapping my arms tighter around him, I pull him closer, grinding against his cock a little in a way that makes him groan. Still cupping the sides of my face, he begins to walk me backward, and I move willingly, trusting him not to let me fall.
We only stop when my back hits the wall, and Elias leans into me, pressing his body against mine as he traps me against the smooth surface. Our kiss breaks, and I tilt my head back a little as he trails his lips down my neck.