Page 75 of Wicked Sin

“There’s a video of me…” I’m not going to describe it. He’s aware. The whole world is aware.

“There are millions of websites full of videos of people doing that same thing. And I’m pretty sure every adult in my family has done that thing, too. Not that I want to see it. I bet they don’t want to see you do it, either, so they’re not going to watch that video. And I only want to see you do it to me, so we’re all good on leaving that thing in the past. Clear?”

No. Not clear at all. And yet, I believe him.

“Anyway, I know we can’t go to tomorrow night’s dinner.” He studies me over his glass. That’s supposed to be my move. I return the look, and he chuckles. “But if you want to know what I really want, that’s it. Social stuff, where we subtly flirt about power exchange all night long, in public. And it gets you all worked up so you ride my hand like a banshee when we get back. Plus I like the idea of getting to know you better.”

“And then hurting me?”

“You’re stuck on that.”

“Yeah. Because you said that I want it.”

His right eyebrow slowly curves up.

I smile. “And you might not be wrong.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face.

Oh, lord. I drink, and then I drink again. When my glass is empty, I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling. “You have a nice house,” I finally say. “I don’t think I said that when I first saw it, and I should have.”

“You looked kind of horrified.”

“It’s small.”

“We can’t all have mansions.”

Mansions are overrated anyway. Full of filth and terror—and not the good kind like Luke seems to be promising. “That’s okay.”

He appears above me, and I realize I’m still staring at the ceiling. Which means Luke is standing over me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You’re suddenly drunk.”

“Yeah.” I try and snap my fingers at him. “That is what happens when one drinks whiskey, Detective Vasquez.”

“True.”

“Do you like being hurt?”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Prefer to dole out the spankings rather than receive them.”

“Okay.” I lick my lips. “Can I ask you for something?”

“Anything.”

“Can you find a way for me to see my sisters?”

His smile blurs a bit. All of him is blurry now. Maybe I’m crying.

He disappears, and then reappears beside me because he’s knelt down next to me. I’m definitely crying. He wipes my cheek. “Give an inch and you’ll take a mile, won’t you?”

I clumsily wave my hand at his face. “I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

“Yes, princess. I’ll find a way for you to see your sisters.”

The next morning,I wake up where I last remember being, still on the couch. I hear clattering in the kitchen and the events of the night before flood into my mind. The nightmare. The talking. The drinking.

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