Page 113 of Sinner's Secret

Whoa, way to give a girl a heart attack.

“No, you won’t,” she said. “Because I don’t want you to destroy the world. I want you to make it a safer place for the young, the old, the weak, the innocent, and the good. There are so many people you could help, protect, and befriend.”

His breathing became even more labored. “I’m no hero,” he said with a rasp.

“No, you’re not. You’re a man who has flaws, and virtues, and like all men, you struggle to do the right thing sometimes. You’re human. You’ve made mistakes, but you’ve learned from them. And I love you.”

He stared at her, his gaze searching. “You are the strongest person I know. You’re good, right down to your bones, and your intelligence humbles me and makes me proud. I’ve known love before, but not like this. The love I feel for you is deeper, richer, and leaves no room in my heart for anything else.”

“Stay with me,” she said, joy bubbling through her blood. “Be with me.”

“Yes,” he said, a smile curving his lips. “It’s been so long since I had a home.”

That reminded her. “Speaking of which, what are you going to do about your very flat taxicab?”

Baz began removing his clothes. “Yvgeny is giving me another one to drive. I need to keep working so I can be a good little informant.”

She watched him drop his shirt to the floor. “It is the perfect cover.”

“I’m not a cop. I’m a very bad man.” He dropped his pants and kissed her. “Your very bad man.”

She smiled at him. “Prove it.”

He took her mouth in a slow, seductive slide that raised her out of her exhausted fog. His hands shook as he pulled her shirt off, then caressed her bare skin. Her breasts were especially sensitive and when he put his mouth over one nipple and sucked, she arched under him, silently asking for more.

He gave it to her, muttering something in a language she didn’t understand as he drove her to distraction.

He slid one hand down her panties, swore when he discovered how wet she was, and pulled the fabric down her legs, and threw them past the end of the bed.

She tugged at him and he came over her, settling between her legs, but instead of taking her, he kissed her, long and deep.

“Baz, if you keep me waiting much longer, you’re going to be in big trouble.”

He lifted his head and grinned. “Now I’m tempted to wait just to see this big trouble.”

She bared her teeth at him.

He laughed, then angled his hips and entered her in one long thrust.

The pleasure was almost too much. Her back bowed, her breathing became ragged, and she held onto him with greedy hands.

She clenched around him, so damned close to orgasm she wanted to scream.

He pulled out and thrust inside, beginning a steady, relentless pace that pushed her over the edge into climax.

He growled, sped up, then shuddered as he came. After several seconds, he settled on his side, scooped her close so he could spoon her, and lazily kissed the back of her neck.

“Baz?” she asked, thinking about what that Ruis vampire had said. “Why aren’t you in the history books? Did you change your name?”

“No, my name has always been the same.” He kissed her once more, then rested his head next to hers on the pillow, so his mouth brushed her ear.

There was an intimacy in their positions that filled her with more happiness than she ever expected to experience.

“What’s written down as historical truth isn’t necessarily the entire truth, or any at all.”

“History is written by the winner, you mean?”

“That’s often the case, but not always. It’s more accurate to say history is written by the last one alive. So, when you have a group of people who just don’t die, they end up telling the story of an event, or a person, or a culture any way they want.” He paused before continuing. “Though that’s getting harder and harder to do with all the technology today recording everything everyone does.”

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