Page 163 of Sinful Desires
The living room was exactly as I remembered it. Massive black leather couches, a wall-mounted flat screen, and the golden bar stocked with every one of my mother’s favorite wines.
Nothing had changed.
I dropped onto one of the couches and pulled her with me, settling her onto my lap. Her arms circled my shoulders slowly, warily.
Her eyes roamed the room. “I think this is the biggest yacht I’ve ever been on.”
I pressed my mouth to her neck and sank deeper into the cushions, my grip around her waist tightening.
“She’s namedVenus. After the goddess. My father gave it to my mother on their tenth anniversary. She passed it down to me when I turned twenty-three. I never set foot on it again. Until now.”
She inhaled, soft and shaky, then leaned back slightly, her fingers curling into the fabric at my shoulders.
“I thought you had no family.”
The engine hummed to life beneath us, low and steady, and the yacht began pulling away from the shore. She slipped off my lap and walked to the window, the sea swallowing her reflection as she stared out.
And I stayed, still tracing the shape of her in the glass. Letting the past press in, but this time, I wasn’t drowning alone.
“I lied.”
It came out rough. Strangled. Like dragging barbed wire out of my throat.
She didn’t turn around. Just let out a low hum, her eyes fixed on the horizon bleeding into the sea.
“We all do, don’t we?”
Then she turned slowly, leaning back against the wall beside the window. The gold dusk lit up her hair, her skin, her mouth. Everything I was neversupposed to touch.
“What else have you lied about, soldier?”
My jaw clenched. Bile rose sharp in my throat, and I swallowed it with a breath that nearly broke me.
I moved toward her until we were chest to chest, breath to breath, and I could see every shard of confusion in her blue eyes.
My hand caught her chin. I dipped down and kissed her. Hard. Desperate. Her palm flattened against my chest like she was holding me back, but she didn’t pull away.
“Must’ve been a hell of a lie for you to be this sweet,” she whispered, her breath trembling.
I pressed my forehead to hers. My voice was low. Raw. Barely there.
“I’m trying to get the words out.”
But they were too sharp, too heavy. Telling her meant digging them out of the place I’d buried them years ago. And I didn’t know if I could survive it.
Her fingers dragged over my chest, tracing the lines of my shirt like she knew what was underneath. Not just scars, but fucking landmines.
She rose onto her toes and pressed her mouth to mine, too kind for the monster in her arms.
“I’m here, Théo.”
God help me, I wanted to believe her. But some truths were too fucked to say.
And I was one of them.
The sunlight cut across the water as the rocks came into view. Captain Pascal steered us closer.
I dropped my hands to her shoulders, then let them slide down to her waist, stopping at her hips.
