Page 43 of Sinner (Priest 2)
And Lizzy’s suicide proved how inept I really was at keeping the people around me safe.
“I don’t know how you manage to do this,” I say, taking a quick swig of beer to hide my discomfort. “Make me talk about all kinds of depressing shit.”
Zenny reaches across the table to touch my hand. “Sean.”
“Yes?”
“It’s only a month between us,” she says quietly, “and I’m not your sister.”
I think of Tyler’s words yesterday, of his warning.
“I know that,” I tell her.
“Good. Because I want this month to feel real. That’s the whole point, for me to feel everything I’ll leave behind, not just the sex, but the companionship and friendship too. We are friends, right?”
“Yes, Zenny,” I say, watching how the city lights sparkle in her eyes. “We’re friends.”
She beams. “Good. Then that means it should be easy for you to be bossy. We’re friends and you’re going to fuck me, and that’s basically like being my boyfriend.”
I haven’t thought of it like that, and the surge of fierce pleasure at the thought of Zenny being my girlfriend, being mine, is impossible to ignore.
“That’s how I want us to be until this is over,” Zenny goes on, ignorant of the stormy happiness thundering through my veins. “I want to feel what a woman of yours would really feel.”
“I’ve never had a woman I called my own,” I say softly. “You’re the first.”
“Really?” She tries to hide her smile at that.
“A lot of things are new with you, Zenny. Even for me.” And I mean it. I may have done almost everything there is to do in bed, but I’ve never done those things with a woman I really cared about. A woman I could pretend was mine.
“Let’s start right now,” Zenny says, straightening up and pushing her plate back. “Say I’m your girlfriend. How would you act?”
I straighten up too. “First of all, you need to know that I’ll stop with the bossiness at any moment. Just say the word.”
“Is the word ‘asshole’?”
I grin. “Yes.”
“I can do that.” She wiggles a little in her seat, like a cat waiting for a string to move across the floor. “Seriously, Sean. I’m starting to think you were bluffing.”
“I don’t bluff, sweetheart. It’s why I’m so good at business.” I take a breath, because this is new to me, letting my natural inclination to control spill into a relationship that’s not familial. But it feels good, it feels nice, and I’ve been fighting the urge to take care of Zenny in all sorts of ways since the gala—allowing that urge out to play feels delicious.
And of course with Zenny, it takes a very different shape than it usually does with my family, the lust and affection and protectiveness twining and twisting into something new. Something I’ve never felt before.
“To start, I want you to finish what’s on your plate.”
Zenny’s eyebrows furrow, and I can tell she wasn’t expecting me to say something so ordinary.
“Eat your dinner, Zenny. I won’t tell you again.”
Eyes narrowing, Zenny picks up her fork and starts to eat.
“You want to call me an asshole yet?”
She swallows a bite. “Not yet.”
I smile. “Good. Take off your shirt.”
Her fork clatters to the plate. “What?”
