Page 87 of Brutal Sin

“I want you.” He pulled her tight against him and clasped the back of her neck with his freehand.

“What about your insurance policy?”

He scoffed. “Turns out all bets are off when you find out your mother is six feet under.”

She cringed. Maybe she didn’t appreciate his callousness, or sensed his lie. But the evidence stood thick and heavy between them, his dick taking center stage as he leaned in to slant his mouth overhers.

The kiss was utter finesse—smooth swipes of lips and a gentle dance of tongues. He wanted to tattoo this moment on her soul. To engrave himself in her memory, like she’d carved a hole inhis.

“Stop.” She placed her hands on his chest. “I still don’t think this is a goodidea.”

The rejection stung deeper than it should have. “Why? It’s not like my track record has provided anything but satisfaction.”

She scowled. Scoffed. The two reactions kneeing him in the conscience.

“Fuck.” He stepped back. “I’m sorry. I’m shitty company today… As opposed to every other day, right?”

He waited for her to retaliate. For those eyes to continue spittingfire.

“I never minded your company, Bryan.”

“Skip the placations, sweetheart. We both know I pissed you off more often than not. It’s what Ido.”

Her shoulders slumped, his words defeating her in a way he didn’t understand. “You’re nicer than you think youare.”

“Then sleep with me,” he begged. The sorry sack of shit he’d turned into pleaded to get laid. Not by anyone. Only her. Only because he presumed he’d never get the opportunity again. “Neither one of us has anything tolose.”

Her smile was fake. Maybe even reminiscent. “Bryan, if I tell you what’s going on in my mind, it will reinstate your insurance policy.”

“Then don’t.” He slid toward her, smashing his lips to hers, lifting her off the ground. “Don’t say aword.”

“I can’t keep this to myself.” Those determined hands found his chest again, pushing. “If we don’t see each other again, I want to make sure this is out in theopen.”

She was seeing someone. Fucking someone.

Christ, he didn’t want to knowwho.

“Bryan?”

“Yeah?” He placed her on her feet and reached for the bottle of scotch, letting the burning liquid unleash on his throat.

“You’re not going to want to hearthis.”

He nodded, his focus on the dwindling scotch.

She was right. He was already prepared to tell her to leave without explanation. He didn’t want to hear the details of who she’d hooked up with. Could it be the cowboy from the bar? Or the weak bastard who fumbled over his words out the front of her cafe? Maybe it was someone with worse qualities.

God knew she had shitty taste inmen.

“All right. Let me have it.” He raised the bottle again, this time holding the liquid in his mouth, letting it sauté his tongue.

“I likeyou.”

The alcohol gagged him, choking the air from his lungs. “What?”

“When we first met, I promised I had no interest in you—not because I knew that was what you wanted to hear—I actually didn’t like you. I thought your attitude was toxic and your confidence grated on my nerves. But the man I got to know is nothing like the brute everyone claims you are.” She nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t see that guy when I look at you. I see someone I want to spend more time with. Someone I fell for. Someone I could see myself falling in lovewith.”

He dropped the bottle to the counter, still clutching the neck for grounding.

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