Page 65 of Sin

I charged forward, causing Merri to stumble in my haste. If I were anything other than the literal hand of death, I would’vecaught her. Instead I stiffened and prayed she’d right herself without me helping. So much for chivalry.

Her grip on my arm tightened, and she sagged even harder against me.

“Mmm,” she hummed, “you smell good.”

My eyebrows flew up in shock. I couldn’t recall a single time in my existence that someone remarked upon my scent. Death wasn’t exactly known for its subtle or pleasant aroma.

“Do I?” I murmured, tamping down the urge to ask her what I smelled like.

“Mmhmm. You smell like... like you were rolling around in the dirt.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped before I could stop it. “What?”

“Yeah. Like fall. Leaves and rain.” She pressed her nose to my chest and took a deep inhale. “Damp earth. Crisp air.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “Makes me want to curl up in a blanket and crack open a book. Take a nap...”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about any of that. Was it a good thing to have a scent that made a woman want to fall asleep? Better than running away in horror, I supposed.

With the way she was pressed against me in this tiny box, I couldn’t help but breathe in her scent as well, and I had to admit, sleep was the furthest thing from my mind.

The sweet vanilla smell had my mouth watering, but once I let myself sink into the complexity of the fragrance, I realized she was everything I loved. The slight bitterness of coffee gave her a dark note I hadn’t expected, but then there was the warmth and familiarity of bourbon blending with the two, all layered with just a hint of spicy jasmine. She was delectable, and my body fucking recognized and responded to her without my permission.

If she got any closer to me, she’d feel exactly how hard being around her was for me.

I was so high off her, I’d have sworn I downed the entire decanter of whiskey, except I hadn’t had a single drop. This buzzing, swimming feeling in my head was all her.

I opened my mouth, not entirely sure what I was about to say—warn her away, perhaps, or maybe beg her for more—I was an absolute tangle of conflicted urges. Before I could do any of that, her knees gave out, and she slid down my side.

Fear punched through the sensual haze I’d been lost in, and I reacted on pure instinct. Instead of reaching for her, I jerked my arms away, terrified she might accidentally brush against my skin in her fall.

“Merri,” I called, crouching down beside her crumpled form.

With careful hands, I shook her shoulder in an attempt to bring her around. The oversized shirt she wore did nothing to cover her legs, making it impossible for me to safely pick her up.

“Wake up, wildflower. I need you to walk for me.”

She was breathing, that much I could tell, but her eyes didn't open at my urging.

Fuck.

The elevator finished its ascent, the door barely more than a crack open before I started bellowing. “Malice! Get your arse over here right now!”

The fucker didn’t show for what felt like an eternity as I reached out and pressed the button that would hold the elevator door open. I’d have called for the others, but they were both out taking care of the demands of their power tonight. Malice was the only other person here.

“Mal! I need your help! Do you hear me, you wanker?”

Slow, heavy steps echoed from down the hall, Malice’s irritated grumbling unmistakable.

“Hurry the fuck up,” I barked.

“What is it now? Can’t a man shower in fucking peace?” He rounded the corner, hair dripping, a towel in one hand, a pair of joggers haphazardly pulled on by the look of them.

“It’s Merri?—”

But I could tell from the way the blood drained from his face that further explanation wasn’t necessary.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Grimsby. Did you kill her already?”

“Me? What? No!”

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