Page 95 of Sinners Retreat

Did I say something wrong? Did I overstep? When he talked about seeing me outside of the retreat, was he just placating me so that he could keep sleeping with me?

His grip tightens again, and he pushes into me, sending my chest against the mattress. “For you, I’m free for the rest of my life.”

As his hips hammer forward, I nearly lose consciousness. I’ve never been fucked with such ferocity and need. Now I understand why he likes thicker women. He needs all the cushioning he can get as he jackhammers my sore pussy.

Just as I’m about to cry uncle, he thrusts a final time as warmth floods me. When he’s finished painting my insides, we both collapse in a breathless heap of legs, balls, arms, and boobs.

“You . . . are incredible,” he pants against the nape of my neck.

Turning onto my side, I grip his hand and pull it up to my mouth so that he can feel my smile. It’s not the first time a man has given me a compliment, but it’s the first time I’ve heard the sincerity behind it. He isn’t using me for sex or betraying me in any way.

He genuinely likes me.

For me.

He leans forward and places a kiss on my cheek, then fetches a rag so that I can clean up. With that handled, he settles in behind me. We lie together, naked, as we listen to the distant sound of the waves brushing against the sand.

A few minutes later, his breathing levels off to a light snore. I don’t mind. If we can’t fuck all night, that’s okay. He’s promised me tomorrow. He’s promised me forever.

I close my eyes and smile. I’ve never allowed myself to want something like this, let alone indulge in the amount of vulnerability I’ve given this man. It doesn’t even feel risky at this point. With my heart in his hands, I’ve never felt safer.

Once I smooth things over with Cat, all will be right again. I still don’t know how I’ll apologize, though I know I need to. Butwhat do I apologize for? Her information was incorrect. Bennett was just being his usual insufferable self. He spread a?—

Thud . . . thud, thud. . .

I freeze and hold my breath as feet stomp across the porch outside the villa.

Without waking Ezra, I slide from beneath his arm and grab a robe from my overnight bag, though I nearly tip over in the process. My legs have forgotten how to function. Once I’ve covered my body in the thin silk wrap, I tiptoe to the front of the villa and peek through the gauzy curtain.

A tall man stands just outside the door. I don’t recognize him. He looks much younger than Ezra. He’s possibly younger than Cat. His sandy blond hair is short on the sides and longer on the top, which gives him the look of a government employee.

My stomach tenses. If he’s a fed or a cop, we’re in serious shit.

He raises his hand to knock, but I open the door before he can. I don’t want to wake Ezra unless it’s absolutely necessary.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

The light catches his face, revealing a set of perfectly straight teeth that definitely came from years of pricey orthodontic work. His eyes are light, though I can’t tell if they’re blue or green. He could cut steel with that jawline.

“I’m looking for Ezra. Jim said this was his villa, but I must have picked the wrong one.” He brushes his hand through his hair, then offers it to me. “I’m Maverick, the Midnight Masochist.”

My brain registers the name, and the alarm bells stop ringing. “Oh, gosh! Yes, Bennett mentioned you’d be here for the hunt, but I don’t think Ezra was expecting you until tomorrow morning. I can wake him if you don’t mind waiting for a second. He’s not...decent.”

Maverick lets out a deep laugh, then waves me off. “No, no need. I’ll see him tomorrow morning. Jim let me stay in one of the vacant villas, but I found some of Ezra’s things in there and wanted to return them to him. I can just leave them with you, though.”

He reaches behind his back and pulls something shiny from his waistband. As he brings it around to the light, I realize it’s the set of meat hooks we found in Eighties’ villa.

“Oh, those aren’t Ezra’s,” I say. “They belonged to a guy named Eighties, who, as it turns out, was actually the Abattoir Adonis. Jim must have put you in his villa.”

Maverick turns the hooks in his hands, a look of confusion on his face. Then he looks at me. “Ezra isn’t gonna like it when he finds out someone has been pretending to be the Abattoir Adonis.”

“Pretending? I don’t follow.”

“Eighties couldn’t have been AA.Ezrais the Abattoir Adonis.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ezra

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