Page 16 of Sinful Pleasure

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s what I’m looking for.’’

It wasn’t true, not at all.

But the way his face twisted, just for a split second, told me I had struck a nerve.

That reaction? It was worth it.

There was a storm in him—something violent and dangerous, but also something raw. Something that scared me, but at the same time, it was… magnetic.I glanced at his lips, those full, unforgiving lips, and an unexpected thought flashed through my mind.

What would it feel like to kiss a man like him?

I quickly pushed the thought aside.

It wasn’t just dangerous—it was insane.

But still, the idea lingered.

The thought of it was like something savage, something forbidden, but I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that kissing him would be brutal—exactly like him.

We were both staring at each other as if in a trance. I don’t even know when I moved so close to him that I could smell his scent.

I was so close that I could see every little detail of his cruel face.

I noticed small scars beneath the ink on his neck. I saw everything that made him who he was.

Maddox was the one who pulled away as if something snapped him back to reality. I don’t know why, but I felt a hint of disappointment at that.

“We’ve arrived.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

I got out of the car, not waiting for him to open the door.

And just to push his buttons further, I slammed the door behind me.

Hard.

CHAPTER5

ALLYN

“One more.”

I down the tequila shot, reaching for the next one.

I’m not a tequila fan—far from it—but tonight, I decided to challenge myself and do things I usually wouldn’t.

The taste of the forbidden liquor is salty and bitter on my tongue, but after three more shots, I stop caring.

We’re at the VIP table, as usual. Tamara invited some of her girlfriends, so it’s a full table right from the start. The club is packed. The Weeknd is blasting at full volume. Everything’s enough to call it a successful night out.

Well, almost.

It would be a thousand times better if Maddox weren’t standing just feet away from our table—arms crossed, tall and proud, staring at us with those creepy eyes.

He doesn’t fit in with the drunk young people dancing and drinking around him. Not that he seems to care, though.

A few girls try to get his attention, smiling and playing with their hair as they pass by, but he doesn’t even bother to glance their way.

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