Page 96 of Sinful Desires
We’re the kind of ache that has no cure
Say my name like it’s your sin
And I’ll say it back while I kiss you again
The last note slipped out breathily from my lips just as the applause erupted.
I opened my eyes, blinking against the lights as the room lit up again, flashes of gold and crystal catching in my lashes.
Everyone was on their feet, clapping loudly as I walked off the stage.
A butler announced that dessert was served, and the room began to shift. A few people came up to me, shaking my hand, telling me this was the hottest song I’d ever written. That I was beautiful tonight. That my voice was unreal. That Ihadto release it.
I smiled. Thanked them.
And when the last person had finally left, and my pianist gave a polite bow before disappearing into the hall—I exhaled. Fully.
I moved toward the door, fingers curling around the handle.
I shut the door with a soft click, turned the key, and locked it. Then I turned off the lights. The room fell into darkness, except for one thing. A single spotlight, left on from rehearsal, lit the center of the stage.
I leaned back against the golden double doors, hands tucked behind me.
Théo stayed still, his back to me, staring out the window.
“So?…?what’d you think, soldier?”
A pause.
“Jonathan Peers is a lucky bastard.”
My brows pulled together as he finally turned, back now pressed to the window.
“Jonathan?” I blinked, honestly confused. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you wanted to fuck him. Thought maybe you’d serenade him too.” His voice was flat, but his eyes weren’t.
Ah. There it was.
Jealousy.
Cold, vicious, and curling at the edges of every word.
I turned, heels clicking as I walked slowly back to where I’d stood before. The spotlight caught me again, waiting right where I’d left it. I stopped in front of the mic, dragging my hand down the stand.
I glanced over my shoulder, lips curling. “You think I’d sing all that for?…?Jonathan?”
He wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, like the taste of my voice pissed him off. His arms crossed tightly across his chest.
“You tell me, Miss Harper. Isn’t he waiting for you in your childhood bedroom?”
He scoffed, eyes cold. “Miss Jung really is thoughtful. Lining up dicks for you like party favors.”
I dragged my fingers down the mic, slow and soft, then leaned in and ran my tongue up the length of it.
“Funny,” I whispered, not taking my eyes off him. “She forgot to list my favorite one.”
I turned around, hands slipping behind my back. The sound of the zipper sliding down filled the silence. The dress pooled at my feet. I stepped out of it slowly, first one heel, then the other.
