Page 151 of The Young & the Sinner

“Good.”

She settled more into me, and I knew she would have let it go, but… I wanted to tell her.

“It was Max.”

I felt her tensed. “You mean Max forced him to commit suicide?”

I nodded. That was one way to look at it, I supposed. But no matter how it was said, the truth of the manner was, Max killed Terrance Hughes for touching me. And I was there to witness it all.

Years later, I still didn’t think Max regretted his decision. I knew he never lost a good night’s sleep over it. But I questioned whether or not his death had helped me heal in some way, or if it had been all for nothing.

Some days, I didn’t feel healed.

Olivia was quiet for the longest time. And I didn’t know how she felt after finding out this truth about Max…

About me.

But then she seemed to be coming alive in my arms, crawling her way on top of me. She laid her head on my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist, playing with the skin at the small of her back.

“I don’t care.”

“Olivia?”

She shook her head. “No, listen to me. I don’t care. I don’t care that Max killed him, or even that you were there with him. I don’t care. I’m glad he’s dead. The world is a better place without him in it.”

“Okay, baby,” I said soothingly. And I was glad. Glad she was able to see past all of this. Glad that I told her. And glad that she was mine.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I said. “I think there are better ways for us to be spending our time.”

And she probably couldn’t see the wicked smile I shot her way, but I knew she caught on to my intent just by the tone of my voice. If she hadn’t already, then the fact that I had one of her perky tits in my hand should have given me away.

I pinched her nipple, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

Olivia stilled for a quick second before she let out a sigh and moved closer to me.

“Of course,” she said softly, primly. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. Only she could sound like this while laying naked in my arms. She tensed a little when I pinched her nipple again, twisting the hardened nub in my fingers, more roughly than I knew she was used to from me.

She moved her small hand up to cover my own, but she didn’t do any more than hold it there, indecisive, as if she didn’t know if she wanted to pull me away or keep me close.

My fingers clamped down on her nipple even harder, tugging the tip taut.

“Mason,” she breathed out, her small protest mixed in with her desire in that one word.

I moved in closer to her, tugging on her earlobe between my teeth, before whispering, “I’m going to show you all the ways a man like me can ruin and worship you at the same time. And by the time we’re done, all the bad shit between us will be nothing more than a distant memory.”

“Okay,” she said on a sharp inhale. I smiled wickedly in the dark, right before I showed her all the ways we could break and put ourselves back together again.

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