Sin With Me

30

When I look up at him, he nods. “Yeah, brother. It is. At the beginning. And then it gets so much deeper and so much better, there aren’t any words for it at all.” His eyes—bright, cobalt-blue eyes that made him famous—pierce me. “But be careful. Because once you get on that speeding train, you can’t get off. Even if it jumps the tracks, crashes into a nuclear power plant, and burns the whole world to the ground.”

He gives me one long, last look and then turns around and leaves.

From somewhere very far off, I hear the sound of my demon laughing.

GRACE

I hide behind a palm tree on the side of the house for the better part of ten minutes, trying desperately to get my bodily functions under control so I can appear in public without people thinking I’m on the verge of collapse.

Because I am. I so am. It’s taking every bit of my willpower just to stand upright with my back against this tree. My knees are Jell-O. My blood pressure is volcanic. My hands are leaves shaking in a hurricane wind.

That kiss was thermofuckingnuclear. I’ve had more men than the Milky Way has stars and I’ve never experienced anything even remotely close to the sensation I felt when Brody fitted my mouth to his.

I couldn’t have known it would be that intense, that overwhelming, that passionate. No, “passionate” is too weak a word. But whatever—I could never have guessed.

If I had I never would’ve let it happen.

“This is bad,” I confess to the little green lizard sunning himself on a rock next to my tree. “This is really bad. This is bad like when the girl goes swimming at the beginning of Jaws and that creepy dun-dun, dun-dun, duh-na-NAH! music starts.”

The lizard thinks I’m an i***t. He closes his eyes and falls asleep. Or maybe he’s just pretending to be asleep so he doesn’t have to deal with the stupid human having a nervous breakdown next to his rock.

I drop my face into my hands and groan.

The way Brody tasted—heaven. The way he smelled—heaven. The way he felt against me, his surprising strength, his heat, the feel of his heart hammering against mine—heaven. For a few short moments I was transported to a place I didn’t know existed, had never guessed could be real, and now I’m back here on earth with all my walls lying in smoking piles of rubble around me.

I built those walls over years, painfully, brick by brick, stone by stone, with a thick layer of mortar to hold it all together, and Brody Scott just tore them all down with a single kiss.

If I slept with that man he’d ruin me for all other men forever.

Which obviously means I’m never sleeping with him.

Which also obviously means I can never kiss him again, because if Nico hadn’t walked in at that precise moment I know I would’ve turned into the c**k-gobbler Kat accused me of being and been down on my knees within ten seconds putting my considerable oral skills to good use.

I lower my hands to my sides. I pull a deep, cleansing breath into my lungs. I recite the mantra I say to myself every morning when I wake up and still know my name.

Looking out at the sea, I whisper fiercely, “You are a lion. You are a tiger. You were given this life because you’re strong enough to live it. Now get out there and let them hear your motherfucking roar!”

Then I stumble off in search of a drink because, let’s face it, self-affirmations can only get you so far.

By seven o’clock, the sun has long since set over the Pacific, the party is in full swing, and I have a fine buzz going, courtesy of the newly friendzoned Marcus, who took one look at me when I came walking pale faced and stiff limbed down the pathway from the house like a zombie and steered me toward the bar set up opposite the stage.

He handed me an ice-cold glass of champagne and hasn’t left my side since.

“So . . . you want to talk about it yet?” he says now, looking with interest at a trio of girls across the pool. They’re standing close to one another, giggling behind their drinks, glancing in his direction every few seconds, being as subtle about their interest in him as a murder scene in a Tarantino movie.

“Nope.” I finish off the rest of my current glass of champagne and smack my lips. “But I think you should go over there and show those three little piggies what the big bad wolf is packing under his furry pelt before they finally bat their fake eyelashes clear off.”

A burp escapes me, quite robust in its volume. “Seriously, have you ever seen such vigorous fluttering? I bet they could power a twin-engine plane with all that kinetic energy. I think the one on the right in the black miniskirt is about to lift off.”

Marcus chuckles. “I’d ask if you were jealous but I know the answer is no.”

I wave a hand vaguely in the air in agreement. “Steer clear of that busty blonde, though. She looks insane. Or is she cross-eyed? I can’t tell from here. The brunette looks like she could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch—look at those lips! I’d go for her.”

Marcus looks at me from the corner of his eye. “I know it has to be something to do with Brody. He looked at you like you’d just descended from a cloud and started playing harp music. Never seen a man look at a woman with so much . . .”

My breath held, I look over at him.

When he pronounces, “Hope,” I’m not sure whether to laugh, cry, or tie a big rock around my neck and jump into the pool.

“Hope is for fools.”