Page 116 of Sin With Me

“You’re lucky my hands are full, temptress, or I’d redden that ass again.”

She giggles, holding the door open for me even as she backs away into the dark living room. “Promises, promises,” she tuts. I kick the old wooden door shut with my foot, a feral grin curving my lips. “Too bad you’ll never be able to catch me, old man.”

An uncharacteristic growl rumbles up my chest at her taunting. She does this to me. Brings out a side of me that I’ve never experienced before. “Old man? Is that right?”

She bites her lip, blinking up at me innocently. “I mean, not that old.” She taps her chin as if in thought and I shock myself when I stay rooted to the spot, indulging her innocence. I thrive on it as much as I want to strip her of it, own it for myself. “You were able to keep up pretty good this weekend.”

“I think you’re the one that struggled to keep up with me, sweetheart,” I scoff.

“You are quite insatiable,” she laughs, closing the distance between us. Her arms wrap around my neck as she peers up at me. Her face was bare from makeup all weekend, showing off her cheeks, pink from the sun and her lips, red and puffy from my mouth and cock. She’s stunning.

Unable to help myself, I bend, meeting her in the middle with a soft kiss. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

She pecks me again before offering me a serious look. “I had such an amazing time. I can’t thank you enough, Isaac. Seriously. I’ll never forget it.”

I smile. “I’m glad, sweetheart. We’ll have to do more things—”

My words die on my tongue as a sound I’d recognize anywhere whispers through the darkened room, filling the space around me, taunting me with its ugly, blackened promises.

Evil, it coos, raking against my skin like razor sharp knives.

Eve’s face falls, her suntanned skin draining of all color. Her back goes ramrod straight and then she’s spinning to face the room behind her.

It can’t be.

There’s no way. No fucking way.

Her back presses to my front, but I’m still frozen, unable to move, or barely breathe as I stare into the darkness. The unmistakable flick of a lighter opening fills the deadly silent room again, and I know—I just know.

It’s him.

He’s back.

Eve screams and darts behind me, shoving me forward in an effort to hide. The bags fall from my hands, hitting the ground with a thud. Her nails dig into my sides, but it’s still not enough to make me move. My heart is in my throat, my brain is pulsing with a deafening roar, dulling out all of my other senses.

Flick.

Flick.

Flick.

Orange flames dance through the darkness once, twice, before they catch, lighting the end of a cigarette with a glowing ember.

“Oh my God,” Eve murmurs, pulling me back as a shadowy figure pushes up from my recliner, rising like Lucifer from the depths of Hell.

Flick.

Thump.

Flick.

Thump.

Heavy boots collide with the floor, creating a staccato beat that matches my painful heartbeat with an uncanny resemblance. And it should. He is my blood, afterall. His heartbeat is my heartbeat, fine tuned at its deepest layer.

His boots scuff against the wooden floor, making the boards beneath him creak as he comes to a stop before me. The sun shines in from a crack in the curtains, casting a warm glow over the demon who haunts my nightmares.

My son.

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