Page 49 of Sin

Cassidy jumps, but recovers quickly to send me a furious glare. “I don’t know,” he grinds out. “All I know is that I’m leaving you.”

Chapter 28

Cassidy

“Where in the hell do you think you’re going?” A voice from the darkness demands.

I jump, but as soon as I realize it’s Sin standing there, anger and hurt replace my fear at being surprised in the middle of the night. I waited hours for him to come back and give me any possible excuse why he left me with kiss-swollen lips to go on a date with Oliver.

“I don’t know,” I tell him truthfully because I have no idea where I’m going. I’ll probably end up sleeping in my truck, but it will be better than pining for Sin while he’s spending the night with another man. I resume walking to Betty Jo. “All I know is that I’m leaving you.”

“The fuck you are,” Sin says, coming after me. I throw my bag in the bed of the truck and jump in the driver’s side and hurriedly shut and lock the door. I give him a triumphant look as I start the engine until he goes to the passenger side and jumps right in.

“Told you that you needed to be more careful about keeping your doors locked,” he says in an infuriatingly condescending tone that makes me want to scream. “Now,” he pins me witha furious glare, “care to tell me why in the hell you got in your head to up and leave me in the middle of the night?”

“I didn’t feel like waiting around for you to get back from your date.”

“Date?”

“Is that too naïve of a word?” I bite out. “I’m sorry, should I use the term lover?” I try to sound mature like all of the other men and women who’ve shared Sin’s bed. Like my heart won’t be cleaved into jagged pieces when he says yes. “Having only one lover so far, I’m not up on the terminology.”

“So far?” His eyes narrow on me, and he grabs me by the shoulder. “It goddamned better stay at one.”

His double standard sends me reeling. “So I get to stay at home waiting around for you while you’re out screwing Oliver and who knows who else?”

“Screwing Oliver?” Suddenly, his thunderous face slackens into laughter. “Only if I were in the market for a daddy, and I’ve spent too many years trying to rid myself of the one I already have to ever want another one.”

I look at him closely. “You really didn’t leave me to go visit your more experienced lover?” I ask, finally letting my insecurities out for him to see.

“No.” His hand reaches out to run his fingers through my hair. “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

The hurt that had rivaled an asthma attack in making me feel like I couldn’t breathe recedes, and I take a large, clearing breath.

He puts his hand on my heart and tracks the breath as it travels out from my lungs. “I do like your jealous side,” he says.

I can feel the color climb up my face for letting him know just how much I feel for him. How much he could hurt me by letting someone else touch him.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, running a finger up my chest and neck to my cheek in a sensuous slide to trace the path of the blush. “I feel the same way about anyone touching you.” His gray eyes darken. Then a tenseness comes over him, and his lips draw into a tight line.

“What was his name?” he demands.

“Who?” I ask, having a hard time remembering that anyone else exists except for the two of us, these last two days full of drama and passion.

His eyes spark. “The man who kissed you in the club.”

It’s unbelievable that the incident Sin is referring to only occurred a few days ago, when it seems I’ve lived a lifetime since then. I try to shake my head free and focus on Sin’s question, but my pause takes his mind to dark places. “Do you not want to give me his name because you’re trying to protect him from me?”

I’m not sure the biker needs my protection, or anyone’s, really, but I hurry to answer Sin’s question. “I never learned his name,” I tell him truthfully.

“You left me and went with him, and you didn’t even know his name?” he accuses.

As lovesick as I am, Sin’s words have me pulling away from him and sitting up ramrod straight and targeting him with a furious glare. “Only after you ignored me and I was forced to watch you and Mercer slobber over each other all night and practically fuck each other on the dance floor.”

“That meant nothing.” He says dismissively, like those images won’t live in my head for eternity.

“That’s what Mercer said,” I spit at him. “That he was dealing with something and you were burning off your devils, whatever in the hell that means.”

“He’s right. We’re friends. Nothing more. Mercer was bent on pissing off Devlin, and I was trying to convince myself I could let you go.”

---