Page 78 of Make Me Sin (Bad Habit 2)
“I came inside the shop first. Nico was still talking to Barney in the car, but I’d been working in the studio all day and couldn’t stand another second of being cooped up. And as soon as I opened the door and stepped inside, I heard your voice. I didn’t know it was you, but I heard this woman singing to herself somewhere just out of sight. I thought I would die right there, next to the rack of Hallmark cards, from sheer bliss.”
When he looks at me his eyes are endless, full of what I can only describe as love. “Your voice, Chloe. The colors of your voice are like . . . fucking . . . heaven.” He starts to sing the lyrics of a Journey song, one I instantly recognize.
“‘Don’t Stop Believin’,’” I say, stunned. “It’s one of my favorite songs.”
He laughs, but it’s choked with emotion. “You and your goddamn eighties rock. That’s what you were singing. You were hitting all the high notes, too, all the hard ones, without missing a beat. And it was like the Fourth of July and a Vegas laser show and the northern lights, all rolled into one. I was blinded. Frozen. I couldn’t move. I’d never heard or seen anything so beautiful. No occlusions or breaks, no cracks or wobbles, just pure, totally effortless perfection, surrounding me on every side, raining over me like a shower of precious jewels.”
All of a sudden, I’m crying. Tears stream unchecked down my cheeks, stinging my stitches. “Then why did you act like you hated me so much? If you thought I was so beautiful, why did you always snarl at me and push me away? Why did you tell me I make you want to die?”
A.J.’s eyes are so soft it breaks my heart. “You remember the famous saying from Jacques Cousteau?”
I nod, sniffling.
“That’s why. Because for a man like me, the most beautiful, dangerous creature of all is love. I fell in love with you sight unseen, just from the sound of your voice, and I knew if I didn’t make you hate me, I’d do the most selfish thing in the world and try to make you mine.”
I’m kissing him again; I can’t help myself. Like breathing, it’s an automatic reflex. I need to taste him, to feel him, to communicate without words what he does to me. How much I care.
“Angel. Angel.” He murmurs it over and over as I kiss his face, his eyelids, his lips. I’m not particularly religious, but I feel like this is a form of communion. This moment is sacred, and I don’t want it to ever end.
It does, though. A.J. takes hold of my shoulders, gently pushing me away. “You need to get back in bed.”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yes, I do. We do.”
His chuckle is soft and indulgent. He swipes the moisture from my cheeks with his fingers. “Easy, killer. One thing at a time. Sleep, eat, sleep more, then we’ll talk. And then . . . we’ll see.”
“I just woke up from twelve hours of sleeping!”
He presses his thumb against the frown lines between my brows, smoothing them out. “Which was instruction number one. Instruction number two was eat.”
As if on cue, my stomach growls.
A.J. grins triumphantly. “You like pancakes?”
“Pancakes? It’s dinnertime!”
He shakes his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Yeah, but that’s all I know how to cook, so that’s what you’re getting.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay. Pancakes. Then sleep again, then the other thing. Deal?”
“The other thing?” He smirks at me.
I say innocently, “Yeah, talking. That was instruction number four, right?”
He gathers me into his massive arms. I gaze up at him, falling, falling, falling.
His voice husky, A.J. asks, “Are you going to follow all my instructions from now on, Princess?”
“I would say yes, but we both know I’d be lying.”
He nuzzles my neck. “How about just for one week?”
There’s something in his voice, some kind of dark need that makes me go still. “You want me to do whatever you say for a week?”
He lifts his head and stares at me. The desire in his eyes tells me the answer is yes.
“Why?”
He struggles to find the words. “Because I need to be in control of this.”
