Page 180 of Never Die for a Sinner
I expect her to look away, but for the first time since I’ve known her, she lets her eyes travel over me. Like she’s devouring me.
Fucking hell, that’s hot.
“Careful, baby girl,” I taunt, climbing in the shower behind her. “You’re going to start giving me ideas.”
“You just made me come half a dozen times, and now you’re getting hard, again,” she points out, and I shrug.
“Want me to make a full dozen?”
She shakes her head and bites her lip to hide her smirk, but there’s something else there. Her eyes fall to her toes, and I catch the tear slipping down her cheek.
Fuck.
“Hey . . .” I reach for her chin, tilting her face to mine. Her eyes are bloodshot, and tears cling to her lashes. “Talk to me.”
“I just . . . I’m sorry for not listening to you.”
My chest grows tight with the sob that wracks through her body. With a sigh, I pull her from the wall and press her against me. She shivers in my arms, so I hold her tighter.
“That man . . .” She tries to pull back, but I don’t release her.
“I’ll handle it, Ava.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry about him.” I catch a stray tear with my thumb. “He was going to hurt you, Ava. It can’t go unpunished.”
She shudders at the darkness in my voice. “What are you going to do to him?” she asks quietly, pulling back enough to look up at me. I brush her dark hair back from her face, my thumb brushing over her lip.
“Nothing you need to be a part of.”
“I can handle it, Levi.”
That’s the problem. I know she can. I can’t.
My girl is soft. Gentle. I’m rough and jagged. I can’t watch that softness turn to stone. I’d rather take a bullet first.
“Why didn’t you tell me? About that night?”
Fuck. I feel like she’s sand slipping through my fingers. The tighter I try to hold onto her, the faster she falls.
She swallows hard, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything.” She glances down, and when she looks back up at me, her eyes are swimming with tears. “Does that make me a bad person?”
Cautiously, I lean into her, running my nose up the side of her throat, and despite the warmth of the water cascading over us, she shivers.
“Nothing about you is bad, Ava Ryan,” I whisper against her ear.
She stiffens, but she doesn’t pull away. I don’t know why, but whispering it makes saying shit like this a whole lot easier than having to look into those pretty green eyes and say it aloud.
When I pull back, there’s a look I can’t place in her eyes.
I swallow past the burn in my throat and pull her under the warmth.
“One day at a time, baby.”
“Don’t call me that,” she mumbles, her cheeks flaming red.
