Page 100 of Sin

“And? Where is he?”

“He got a little tied up.”

“Figuratively or literally?” I asked, taking another step back as London advanced. I stumbled over an empty beer bottle and fell back against the building’s brick wall. I barely felt the bricks scrape my palms as I scrambled for purchase.

London stopped in front of me, crowding me in. His scent enveloped me in a cocoon of clean cotton and tequila. “Your… friend is currently hogtied and gagged in the men’s restroom.” At his admission, my heart galloped, my blood hummed, and my breath caught. London had always been adept at rope skills.

He’s the one who taught me everything I knew about them, after all.

His hands slid down my arms until he linked our fingers. I didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare utter a single word as London moved my hands above my head. “Does that upset you?”

I swallowed and decided honesty was the best course of action here. “No.”

“Why not?”

With a steadying breath, I held his gaze. “Because he’s not the one I want.”

He smiled, teeth blinding in the shadows painting his face. “Good.”

And then he pounced.

Warm lips molded to mine, London’s tongue teasing and tasting along the seam of my mouth. I moaned into his mouth, granting his tongue entry. He delved inside, tongue seeking out mine.

He tasted of margaritas, second chances, and tomorrows, and I fucking devoured him.

Pushing off the ground, I wrapped my legs around his waist, reveling in the feel of his erection when I locked my ankles and yanked him tight against me. I ground against him, taking everything he offered. Maybe he’d regret this later, but I was starved for attention, starved for him, that I’d deal with the consequences when they came. This was now, and that was later. And right now, London was panting against my jaw as I moved against him, his grip on my hands bruising and punishing.

When he pulled back just a little, I caught the glimpse of his bliss-glazed eyes before they closed. He released my hands, and then he was spinning me around until my cheek pressed against the wall.

Panic raged hot and swift. My brain and body sent each other mixed signals. I tried to shove away from the wall, but London, unaware of my rising panic, urged me back.

I couldn’t do this.

I tried to tell him to wait, to let me go, but my lips were numb. The words wouldn’t rise.

My power, unconstrained still, burned and spread. It surged and surged, wild and frantic. London’s length ground against me, and I lost control.

“Stop!” I shouted, unseeing, desperate. My power thickened the air. “Stop, stop, stop!”

He froze, but my panic didn’t go away. Reality and memory became muddled, I was in an alley, no, a dark cell. Soft, yet punishing hands held my hips. A vicious laugh echoed beside a familiar, concerned voice calling my name.

So many thoughts, sounds, and images rampaged me, making it so I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating because my damn lungs wouldn’t cooperate, wouldn’t fucking move.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the fog cleared.

I wasn’t standing any longer. I was on the ground, my legs tucked awkwardly beneath me. London remained standing just where he’d been before, watching me with wary confusion and concern. He hadn’t moved, couldn’t move because…

I gasped, yanking back my power still clinging to the air like static. With my power pulled back, London collapsed to his knees before me. His shoulders slumped as if he didn’t have the strength to hold them straight. He stared at me with wide, horrified eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I rasped, blinking wetly. I’d used my power on him, something I knew he didn’t tolerate.

“No,” he said quickly, reaching for me before withdrawing like I’d shocked him. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I thought you…” He swallowed, and shame flooded his expression. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into a situation you didn’t want.”

But that was the thing. He hadn’t. Not really. I had wanted it, wanted him. But it was like some sort of switch had flipped inside me. Being pressed face first against the wall, it had… triggered something. It all happened so fast that I hadn’t even seen it coming.

I could see London retreating, confused and self-blaming. He didn’t understand what had happened. Hell, even I was still reeling from the aftermath of my panic attack. But I needed him to know this wasn’t his fault.

“I think it was the position,” I said quietly, rubbing my arms up and down and ignoring the shame telling me to shut my mouth. My teeth chattered, even though I didn’t understand why. I wasn’t cold. In fact, sweat drenched my hairline and left dampness on my shirt. “Being pressed up against the wall like that brought up… unpleasant memories.”