Page 11 of Sinful Pleasure

“You don’t have to watch over me now, you know?” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m safe inside my house.”

But of course, he said nothing.

He only stared, his silence a constant presence that seemed to make the space between us even heavier. I could feel his gaze even when my back was turned.

When I finished making my toast, I took a seat opposite him, hoping to break the silence.

“Well, why don’t you tell me something more about yourself, since you’re going to follow me around all the time?”

He made a face at the sight of me slicing my toast in half, clearly unimpressed, before responding in his low, gravelly voice. “I’m not following you around. I’m protecting you.”

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop the frustration bubbling up inside me. But then something caught my attention.

His tattoos.

I wasn’t really a fan of tattoos. I never got why people were so into them, especially when it came to guys.

But there was something about the way his ink seemed to belong to him, how it didn’t look forced or out of place—like an extension of who he was. The intricate designs that wrapped around his forearms were like stories etched into his skin, and I hated that I was noticing it so much.

How did he pull them off so effortlessly?

I looked up, shooting him a quick glance.

“I don’t need protection.”

“You’ll need it if you’re going to be Angelo’s wife.”

His words hung in theair, heavy with meaning.

“The world is not fucking rainbows and unicorns, if that’s what you think, Miss Delgado.”

“My name is Allyn.” I cut him off, the irritation creeping into my voice. His eyes flickered to my face, but he didn’t acknowledge the correction.Instead, he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Why? Is Angelo doing something that I need to be protected from?”

I could practically see the answer in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Not directly.

He pointed to my untouched toast as if he was losing his patience with the conversation.

“Eat your food’

’His words were meant to shut me down, but instead, they just spurred me on.

“So that means yes,” I said with a smile, my words dripping with sarcasm.

For a second, his face flinched—barely, but enough to show me that I had hit a nerve. Good. It was about time he reacted to something I said.

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you,” I smiled wider.

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I take it as one.”

I could see the flicker of anger in his eyes.

His gaze locked onto mine again, unblinking, and even though we were across the table from each other, it felt like his presence was swallowing me whole.

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