Page 82 of Sweet Sinners
He reaches to the nearby shelf and grabs a clean towel, wiping me off slowly, tenderly, the way someone might handle something fragile, something precious. My heart squeezes as I watch him, stunned by how easily he shifts between rough and careful. When he's finished, he helps straighten my dress, sliding it up my body before turning me gently and zipping it, fingers lingering at the small of my back, silently promising everything he's not saying aloud.
"What do you mean, secret?" I finally whisper, turning to meet his gaze, my heart pounding.
Connor cups my face in his hands, thumb brushing softly over my cheek. "You said it yourself, we have to be careful, Cali. You’ve got a reputation, a company, people watching every move you make. We can't risk being caught until I'm cleared."
I open my mouth to argue, to tell him I don't care about any of that, that all I care about is him, but he silences me with another kiss, deep and lingering, tasting like promises and secrets I don’t have the strength to fight anymore.
When he finally breaks the kiss, his gaze stays locked on mine, dark and intense, full of hunger and desperation.
"I can't wait for that moment," he murmurs, voice raw, filled with restrained passion, and just a hint of a threat. "Because when it comes, Angel, I'll never let you go."
Chapter thirty-seven
Cali
Isitatmydesk,shifting in my chair as a delicious soreness reminds me exactly how Connor and I spent our night. Most of the marks he left are hidden beneath layers of professional clothing, but I feel every one of them—like secret brands burned into my skin, whisperingmine, mine, mine. With Connor, one round is never enough. Last night was proof of that, and I’m still feeling it today.
But when I glance back at my calendar, satisfaction fades into irritation. Two important meetings are missing, and they sure as hell didn’t vanish by accident.
"Anna," I call sharply, irritation already simmering beneathmy skin.
She walks in, her eyes flicking over me before a sly smile appears. "Someone had a good weekend."
I don't smile back, my voice cool and clipped. "We're not discussing my weekend."
"Oh, come on," Anna teases, tilting her head. "We always used to dish about our fun with boys."
"Used to," I say firmly, meeting her eyes, letting my tone slice deeper. "Right now, I've got too much shit going on to play guessing games with you. You've made it clear lately that we aren't friends—just coworkers. I don't have the energy to keep chasing you, Anna, so let’s keep it strictly business."
Her smile fades instantly, eyes widening, clearly caught off-guard by my bluntness. "What's wrong with you today?"
"I don't know, maybe I'm wondering why two critical meetings are missing from today's schedule? Meetings I confirmed with you on Friday. Care to explain that?"
Anna’s face goes pale, fingers frantically tapping on her tablet. "Those meetings aren't until tomorrow."
"They're today," I say firmly, leaning forward, pinning her with my stare. "Monday doesn't sound like Tuesday. So tell me, are you deliberately sabotaging me, or are you just losing your touch?"
She flushes, anger replacing her earlier amusement. "I'm not sabotaging you!"
"Then explain how these two crucial meetings became 'free time' on my schedule. My father wouldn’t tolerate this, and neither will I." My voice hardens, frustration seeping through every word.
She scoffs bitterly, shaking her head. "Everyone here talks about him like he was some saint. He wasn't."
"What did you say?" My voice comes out sharper than I intended, heart jolting painfully. I must have heard her wrong.
Anna’s lips curl into something ugly, eyes narrowed, shoulders tight with bitterness she’s clearly been holding back too long. "Your dad," she repeats slowly, like she's savoring each word. "He was a dick around here. I thought you'd be different. You used to care about people just because they were people—even when they messed up." Her tone darkens, dripping venom. "Guess the job changes everyone."
Shock ripples through me, leaving me speechless for half a second. Then anger floods in, hot and heavy, tightening my jaw. "What exactly are you trying to say, Anna?"
She crosses her arms tight across her chest, eyes blazing. "Maybe if you're going to assume the worst about me, I'll do the same about you."
"Excuse me?" My voice sharpens, a warning clear as I lean forward, heart hammering in my chest. "Is that a threat?"
"Depends," Anna shoots back, stepping closer to my desk, eyes bright and defiant. "Dean's been talking a lot lately—moping around because you rejected him. Plus, you’ve got that criminal living in your house. If I wasn’t so busy fixing your schedule, maybe I'd start wondering if you're fucking your stepbrother."
I freeze. My heart slams against my ribs so hard I’m afraid she’ll hear it. I feel heat crawling up my neck, my nails digging painfully into my palms beneath the desk, but I refuse to show her weakness. She’s fishing, trying to catch me off guard—and I can't let her.
"So you're willing to fabricate a scandal about me having consensual sex, just to dodge responsibility for sabotaging my work schedule?" I ask, forcing my voice to stay steady, though I feel exposed, furious. My eyes narrow sharply. "Is that what you're saying, Anna?"
