Page 132 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
Tolyan tilts his chin. “Same place you left her.”
Right. Of course.She’s still on the couch, still safe. Surrounded by people I trust. I set the empty glass on the bar counter and return to her.
“A little less shaky now?” Iris says.
I nod, lying. I’m anything but.
“Was she your friend?”
“She’s—was—somebody who worked for me and my company.”
She reaches out and holds my hand. “She must’ve been close to you to be invited. I’m sorry.”
I squeeze her hand back, maintaining our physical connection because it’s the only thing that’s making me not lose my mind right now.
This should’ve been one of the most amazing, unforgettable nights of Iris’s life. Well, it’s unforgettable, but for all the wrong reasons. I hate it that I couldn’t keep the ugliness from slipping through and touch her.
“Let’s go home,” she whispers, brushing her fingertips tenderly along my cheeks and jaw. “Let’s get you away from here.”
We say goodbye to everyone and exit. The cops have my contact info, in case they need to get in touch.
TJ brings the car out. After dismissing Bobbi, I hold an umbrella over Iris.
Our ride home is quiet, except for the sound of raindrops knocking on the Cullinan. The thunder and lightning seem to be over, but the road is full of creeping drivers unable to figure out what to do on roads that aren’t bone-dry.
Iris holds my hand in hers, a silent gesture of comfort. I’m grateful for her understanding, although I know I don’t deserve it. If she knew the whole truth—what I’m hiding from her, who Jill is and what she’s been doing for me—she’d hate me. If she could, she’d flip the Steinway over on me.
When we step into our place together, I make sure to lock the door and pull away from her gently. I don’t want her to think I’m upset with her, but Jill’s death…Sam… The ugliness of the night keeps circling in my head, and the guilt and self-loathing are twisting around me, leaving a slimy, toxic fog over my mind. I don’t want Iris to touch me and become tainted. She should be clean and safe. She should never know what it’s like to see someone’s life snuffed out like that.
“Don’t pull away.” She reaches for me, wrapping her hand around my wrist with surprising strength. “You don’t get to do that. Ever.”
“Iris—”
“I know you’re bothered by Jill’s death. But it wasn’t your fault. Nobody could’ve predicted it.”
Her understanding and kindness shred me. She always sees the best in me. She can’t imagine what a shitty deal she got by agreeing to marry Tony Blackwood. She thinks I’m giving her a family—my brothers—and my fortune, while she isn’t bringing enough to our relationship. She alone is worth more than all my money and other material junk combined. She is the heart—without her, there’s no life.
When I remain stiff and unyielding, she tilts her head, regarding me quietly. She places her palm on the center of my chest and slowly pushes me backward until my spine bumps against the edge of the kitchen counter.
“Do you love me, Tony?” Her voice is quiet and steady.
“Yes. Always,” I answer in the same tone, wondering why she’s asking me this. Can she sense I’m holding something back? Is she trying to reassure herself I’m one hundred percent truthful?
“Then promise me you won’t move or stop me until I’m finished.”
Her eyes are as luminescent as the moon. I should reject the comfort and love she’s about to offer. But I’m selfish and craven enough to want everything she has to give.
She takes my silence as a yes, and kisses me. Just a feathery brushing of our lips, our breath mingling. The touch is so sweet that my heart aches for her. Her mouth moves over mine leisurely. This is her time—she sets the pace. I let her lead. I ruined the party, but I can do this for her.
Her hands tug at my shirt, untucking it. Without breaking the kiss, she pulls each button out of its hole until the garment opens, exposing my torso. She strokes me, every touch light and gentling, as though calming the beast writhing with self-recrimination and anger. Her lips follow her fingertips. My breathing shallows, grows rougher. She’s killing me slowly. But I can’t move. This is what she wants, even though I’m not worthy of it—not really.
Her warm breaths fan over my skin. She unbuckles my belt, unbuttons my pants, then tugs the zipper down, its whisper loud in the quiet apartment. She pulls down my slacks and underwear in one smooth motion.
My dick springs out, already hard. Iris’s face is so close that I can feel the heat from her parted lips.
“I love how honest you are with me—your body never hides anything.”
Her words slam into me like a roundhouse kick. But my dick grows harder, defenseless against her nearness.
