Page 185 of Sin

The ride back to her apartment is quiet.

Her hand rests on the console. Mine finds it halfway through the drive. Our fingers lace together, and neither of us lets go.

At her building, the doorman nods to her by name. Good. She has people watching.

I walk her upstairs anyway because I need to see where she lives now. Her apartment is smaller than I expected. Boxes are still tucked against one wall. Books stacked in uneven piles. A throw blanket on the couch. A plant on the window ledge that looks judgmental.

“She has opinions,” Laurel says, following my gaze.

“The plant?”

“Her name is Claudia. She’s been through a lot.” Laurel smiles. “I got her on clearance after I killed my other plants.”

I stand just inside her apartment, hands at my sides, suddenly unsure what to do with the freedom I’ve wanted for weeks. We’re alone. No locked office door. No hotel room purchased under an excuse. No wife waiting at home. No ring hidden in a pocket or sitting on a nightstand like a threat.

Just us.

Laurel closes the door. Locks it. Then turns around and looks at me.

“I don’t want to pretend we’re only here to talk.”

My body reacts instantly. “Laurel.”

“I want you.”

My control tightens hard. She walks toward me slowly and stops in front of me, close enough that I can see the pulse beating at the base of her throat.

“But I need it to be different,” she whispers.

My chest aches. “It is different.”

Her eyes search mine.

“I’m yours tonight because I choose to be,” she says. “Not because I’m lonely. Not because we’re hiding. Not because everything is falling apart.”

I lift my hand to her face, then stop just short of touching her.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her eyes soften. “Yes.”

I cup her cheek. Then I kiss her. It starts slow. A brush of mouths. Then Laurel opens for me with a soft sound that breaks every careful thing I was trying to be. Open mouth. Her tongue slides against mine, and I lose the last of my restraint with a groan that comes from somewhere too deep to control. The kiss turns desperate in a heartbeat.

She grips the front of my shirt and pulls me closer. I back her against the door, one hand cradling her jaw, the other at her waist, and kiss her like I have been starving for the exact taste of her. Because I have. For weeks.

She moans into my mouth, and my body answers with a rush of heat so fierce it almost scares me.

I break away just enough to breathe. “Bedroom?”

“Down the hall.”

“Are you sure?”

She kisses me again, which is answer enough.

Still, I need the words.

“Laurel.”