Page 55 of The Sinner and the Scholar
My steps stutter as I catch the flare of heat in his eyes. How does he not hate me by now? I’m honestly doing everything I can to push him away.
“What do you mean?” I ask although I have a fair idea.
A flash of nervousness crosses his expression, but then he sets his jaw and prowls closer to me. His confidence takes me unawares, and I step backward until I hit a wall. His hands brace on either side of my head, and then he lowers his lips to my ear.
“There are other sins, right?” His voice is deep and rough.
A shiver sets my nerves on fire when his lips connect with my neck. I can’t hide the effect he has on me. There’s no point lying. Maybe this is what we need—an outlet for our pent-up frustration.
Enjoy the ride.
“Lust is also a deadly sin,” I breathe, tugging him closer.
My body buzzes at his closeness. Maybe he’s thinking the same thing I am.
Let’s get this confusing tension out of our system. Purge it, and go back to hating each other.
“If you think you can handle this much sin,” I breathe. “Take what you want.”
His lips stop on my neck. His hot breath tickles my skin. We’re stuck in an endless moment of uncertainty. Just when I think he’ll back off, he drags his open lips from my neck to my jaw as though he’s ready to eat me. The move is so erotic, so decidedly male, that I feel myself getting wet.
When he claims my mouth, it’s devouring. It’s demanding, needy, and raw all at once. He kisses with his whole body—with his hands spearing into my hair, his hips digging into mine, and his throat making soft little grunts like he’s struggling to hold back the tidal wave of his desire. Like he’s been waiting for this moment since he met me. Like he’ll never get this chance again.
My knees go weak as I submit to his hunger. It’s so foreign to me, like nothing I’ve taken from other lovers. Maybe because this time, I’m not taking. He’s giving.
I grab his shirt and pull him closer. Deepening our kiss, I hook my leg around his waist and grind my hips into his, hunting for more delicious friction. We both release a shuddering groan at the contact. Shocked and dazed, we pull away, panting.
He’s so fucking hot with his lazy, crooked cat-got-the-milk smile that I almost forget what I’m doing here. But then our eyes clash, and his desire splashes cold water on me. This isn’t a game to him. This is something he wants from deep within his soul. No one kisses like that unless they mean it.
For Sinners, seduction is a choreographed dance. Every touch is carefully constructed, and every word has a use. When I use my body to take down a mark, I’m like a robot going through the motions. But this isn’t that. This is hope in my soul talking to his. This is my heart peeling open.
A slice of fear stabs me.
Too much.
Too real.
I shove him and snarl, “This has to bedeadly, you understand?”
He recoils but doesn’t step back. His fists tighten in my hair, and his eyes turn defiant.
But if we’re to attract the vigilante of deadly lust, this won’t be two sweet lovers coming together. This will be him forcing himself on me to the point he’s ready to kill me. Death, I’m used to. Violence, my heart understands.
He eases off with a flicker of disappointment and an ounce of bitterness.
“Envy is fine,” he mutters.
Something impossible builds inside of me at his rejection. I slap his face. His head snaps to the side. His spectacles slide down his nose, threatening to teeter off. But he makes no move to right himself.
“Come on, Wes,” I hiss. “I see the way you look at me. I see the lust, the want, the craving. You were all too happy to stick your tongue down my throat a second ago. I’m well acquainted with what men want from pretty girls like me. So take it. I’m giving you a guilt-free chance to take the one thing I’m good for.” I shove him. He stumbles, fixes his specs, and straightens. Still, he won’t look at me. As if my face is the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen. My chest heaves. My heart burns. This feels worse than rejection. It feels like I’m not even good for this despicable act.
“Show me what you’re made of,” I taunt.
“I’m not going to force myself on you,” he grinds out, outraged eyes meeting mine.
“I’m giving you a free pass.”
His upper lip curls, and he shakes his head. “Pick another sin.”
