Page 48 of Tainted Sinners

I tip forward, the ground coming into view a lot sooner than I expected.

Just then, a hand grabs my arm. Yanking me back up and pressing me to the wall again. I blink a few times, disoriented.

“I hate to think this is my fault.”

A man comes into my vision. Handsome as hell, with dark hair and piercing black eyes. He towers over me, making me feel vulnerable in a sexy kind of way. He’s well dressed, with a black button-down and dark pants. His sleeves are cuffed at his elbows, and the skin underneath his shirt is littered with tattoos.

I run my eyes up the thick veins in his arms to focus back on his face.

“Hello,” he says, his voice making me shiver.

I suck in a breath, surprised by my reaction. Seeing this, he drops my arm.

“Hi,” is all I can think to say back.

I stare deeply into his eyes, the bottomless depths of them endless and violent. Like twin bullet holes. Vaguely, I remember what he said when he helped me up.

“You sent me the drink.”

He nods.

“Oh, okay. I’m fine, by the way. Just got a little caught up in everything is all.”

He smirks at me. “I love a girl who can hold her liquor.”

That makes me frown. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I am.” His voice is deep and smoky sounding. Delicious to my ears.

My body feels like it’s being pulled towards him for some inexplicable reason. I tuck my arms around my waist to stop myself from reaching out and touching him.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

I pause, not sure if I should tell him or not. My mouth opens a split second later before I can filter it out.

“Antonella. Nella.”

“Well,” he says. “Antonella, Nella.”

I feel him grab at my hand, tugging it away from my waist. “It seems like congratulations are in order.”

I blink in confusion at him. What is he talking about? That’s when I realize that he’s staring down at the giant, gaudy ring on my finger. I snatch my hand away from him, wanting to turn around and smash it into the brick wall behind me.

I hate this ring. It’s ugly and gross. It’s nothing like I wanted for myself. Kind of like my future as a whole. It’s not that I’d dreamed of my wedding as a kid, but I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t. And Ben’s ring is certainly everything that’s wrong with this entire ordeal, wrapped up into one sparkly little gemstone.

“Right,” is all I say back.

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my face. “You don’t want to get married.”

I sigh. “I don’t really have a choice.”

I don’t want to get into it.

I lean away from the wall, straightening myself up. I force myself to smile at him. “I should go back inside. My friend is probably looking for me.”

“She isn’t.” He surprises me when he steps forward and cups my face. “Why force yourself to smile like that if you’re not feeling it?”

I swallow, feeling like I’m starting to drown in the intoxicating feel of his hands on my face. He caresses the side of my jaw with his thumb. I can feel my body start to tremble under his touch, responding in ways I had no idea that it could. From here, I can smell his dark, amber cologne.

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