Page 34 of Sinners Retreat

My back presses against the door to my villa as I try to keep my legs from collapsing and sending me to the roughly hewn boards under my feet. I want to scream yes, that he can take me right now and help my mind go numb for a few hours, but that’s just my vagina talking again.

Sensing my weakening resolve, he steps closer and brushes my hair behind my ear. I’m caged between his powerful arms, and I don’t want to escape. He could take me without my consent if that’s what he really wanted to do. He’s strong enough to break me in half. Yet it’s his restraint that drives me wild with need.

Like the slacks cloaking the rock-hard erection pressed against my stomach, he’s holding himself back. He’s practically shaking from the sheer desire pumping through his body, and that virus is catching.

He leans down, bringing his lips close to mine, but I don’t turn my head away. I close my eyes and tilt my head toward his.

“Okay, you two. Time to tell me what the fuck is going on.” Cat’s voice cuts through the silence—and my sanity.

“What the fuck! You scared me!” I duck beneath Ezra’s arm. “How are you so silent now? Any other time, you’d be clomping around like a goddamn Clydesdale, butnowyou want to live up to your namesake?”

Cat bites her lip and looks between Ezra and me. “I’m interrupting something. I am so sorry.”

And yet, she doesn’t leave.

“No, nothing to interrupt,” Ezra says as he starts down the porch steps. “I was just leaving. I need to get to bed early if I want to do the sunrise horseback riding in the morning.”

Cat grabs his arm before he can slink away. “Not so fast. What was all that shit at dinner? If I provided your alibi, the least you can do is tell me why.”

I hold up my finger. “Technically, I provided his alibi. You just stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.”

She ignores me and continues staring at Ezra, who runs his hand through his hair and looks toward the ocean.

“Then again,” I add, “I’d also like to know what happened.”

With no way out, Ezra turns to us and steps closer so we can hear him as he whispers his misdeeds. “This is the last we’ll speak of this, understood?”

We nod, eager to hear about his murderous rampage.

“And if I tell you,” he says to me, “you agree to at least consider what I was saying before we were interrupted?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Fine.”

Cat and I listen as Ezra spares no details. He spotted Eighties in the hot tub at the Blood Grotto, where he pushed him beneath the frothy water until he stopped moving. Once he was dead, he hoisted him onto the sacrificial slab and painted the stone with Eighties’ entrails.

“Doesn’t that go against your whole motto to kill only those who deserve it?” I ask.

Ezra turns to me, and the sincerity in his dark eyes sends my stomach into a loop. “If someone hurts you, they deserve to be hurt in return.”

“Wow, that’s hot,” Cat says as she fans her face with her hands.

The moment thoroughly ruined, I groan and turn for the villa. “I’m going to bed. You two have a nice evening.”

“Good night, my pet, and remember that you agreed to consider things.” Ezra heads off down the beach, and I shake my head as I open the front door.

“Wait, I needed to talk to you about something.” Cat follows me inside before I can stop her.

I’m all talked out, and I just want to go to fucking sleep. She’s been just as busy as I have, so how is she so bright-eyed and bushy tailed this late in the evening?

“Make it quick,” I say. “I’m starting to get another headache.”

She sits at the breakfast nook and begins rapping her nails on the table.

“Cat, just fucking spit it out!”

“Okay, okay.” Her fingers still and she looks down at her lap, the picture of an admonished child. “Could I spend the night on your couch?”

My mouth falls open.

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