Page 58 of Sin

Cassidy squeezes my hand and gives me a look like he’s proud of me, which is all I need. I steer us to the other side of the ugly couch and sit down. Mercer drags his painting stool across from us and perches on it. He looks at me, concerned, knowing this sharing thing is definitely not my usual MO. “Say your piece, man.”

I tell Mercer and Devlin the same story I told Cassidy. It’s somehow easier the second time. Mercer doesn’t look that surprised by the details, even the one about my father murdering my mother. “I always knew the bastard was a sociopath,” is all he says when I tell him about my father pushing us down the stairs.

Devlin sits and listens quietly as I speak until I’m finished detailing everything. “I’m impressed at the meticulous way you’ve plotted his downfall. It couldn’t have been easy, but he deserves to pay, and because of you, he will.” He regards me for the first time with respect, and not annoyance or jealousy. The compliment coming from the ex-criminal-turned-ruthless-corporate shark actually hits home.

It's not just Devlin’s praise; I feel lighter somehow by sharing this with my best friend. Not hiding Gideon’s crimes like they were my dirty secrets to keep.

I turn to Cassidy, who somehow knew I needed this, and kiss him. Because we have witnesses and Cassidy cares what other people think, I don’t make it a full-on sensual assault like I want to, but when I pull back, I’m happy to see more than a little want in his pretty eyes.

Not able to assuage one hunger, I settle for another. “Who’s hungry?” I ask, suddenly ravenous after all the emotional upheaval of the last few hours. “I want food and lots of it.” I think for a second and add a crucial addendum. “And lots of tequila.”

Chapter 35

Cassidy

I think I just had my first double date.

After Sin shared his story with Mercer and Devlin, he declared he was hungry, and somehow Devlin ended up making fajitas while Sin and Mercer made a large and powerful batch of spicy margaritas. Someone turned on some music, and suddenly, the emotionally charged last few hours turned into a party.

Among the shit-talking and laughing, I watch Mercer with Devlin, and the remnants of jealousy I still had concerning Sin and Mercer evaporate. I don’t know what’s going on between Mercer and his former guardian, but from the hungry looks they give each other when the other one isn’t looking, I’m positive the talented artist isn’t pining for Sin.

It makes it easier when Mercer corners me while I’m pouring myself a refill of the delicious margarita. I don’t feel the normal wave of resentment I used to feel when he spoke to me. “You did a good thing, making Sin finally talk about what his father did to him and his mother.” He nods at Sin, who is in his happy place, as he shit-talks Devlin, who seems more than capable of giving it right back to him. “He's lighter and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.”

I’m happy Sin’s best friend thinks so, too. “Did you know that his father murdered his mother?” I ask curiously. He hadn’t seemed that surprised when Sin revealed that secret.

“I suspected it. I’ve spent enough time around Gideon to know what a maniac Gideon is. I can’t wait to see him get the punishment he deserves. Not only for what he did to Sin’s mother, but the hell he put him through.”

Seeing his genuine care and protectiveness over Sin, I can’t help but feel the first bonds of an actual friendship grow between me and Mercer. He bumps my margarita with his. “Cheers to a future where evil fathers stop ruining their sons’ lives,” Mercer says with a long look at Devlin, and I get the feeling that he’s referring to more than Sin in his toast.

I’m a little tipsy by the time we get in the rideshare to go home, and I’ve lost track of the time. It was a long day of fun and margaritas, and I only know that it’s dark outside and more than past time that I feel Sin inside of me again.

I tell him exactly that, and he laughs and tells me it’s the tequila talking. I object by releasing my seatbelt, straddling him, and showing him just how much I need him by kissing him all the way home. By the time the car pulls up to the house, we’re both ready to combust. Sin laughs at the driver’s disapproving glare, peels off a stack of bills, and hands them to him. “Here’s a little extra for your moral outrage,” he says, giving him a wink.

When we reach the house, he pauses. “We have to be quiet,” Sin reminds me.

“Quiet,” I repeat, and do a pretty good job of it until we reach Sin’s room and he starts kissing me, and I can’t help answering with hungry moans.

“Shhhh,” he whispers, though the look of satisfaction on his face tells me he likes that he brings out an uncontrollable response from me.

“I’d gag you and tie you up to make sure you stay silent, but I need you completely sober so you can give your full consent before we do anything like that.”

The visual of being bound and at Sin’s mercy has my breath quickening. Sin notes my reaction with a low, sensual chuckle. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to get to that soon.” He gives me a deep, soulful kiss. “Real soon,” he whispers against me. “But tonight, this should do.”

He spins me around and positions me against his closet door and roughly yanks my chinos down around my ankles. “This work for you?” he asks against my ear.

“Yes, please,” I plead.

“Good.” He drops a worshipful kiss on the nape of my neck. “I do something you don’t like, or you want me to stop, you ball up your fist and hit my thigh. You got that?”

I nod my head impatiently.

“I need the words, Cassidy.”

“I’ll hit your thigh if I need you to stop,” I pant out.

Taking out a packet of travel lube from his wallet, he coats his fingers generously. His other hand reaches around me, then covers my mouth tightly while one finger breaches me from behind.

I’m overcome by the dual sensation of his finger ruthlessly plunging in and out of me, along with the forceful hold of his hand over my mouth as his body cages me against the door. I feel totally under his command, my normally overactive brain ceding control to him so that I’m free to just feel the sensations of his dominating touch.

---