Page 54 of Sinner’s Game

“I don’t believe you.” He’s still holding my hand, and now I squeeze his. “I don’t want to take you away from something important. You should go. It’s an easy drive to LA, so if it’s important, you should go. Just leave now. Call Reggie. She can take over. I mean, she lives on site, so it’s no big deal, and we both know she’s a badass.”

He almost laughs. “She is at that.”

“Then go.”

“No.”

“Please,” I beg. “Don’t make me feel like some obligation you’re stuck with.”

He pushes off the sofa, then starts pacing. “Is that what you think?”

“Well, yeah. You want to go—it sounds like Jacey worked really hard to find this person—and you’re staying because of me.”

I have no idea what the bigger picture is, but that much I’m sure of. I blink back tears, feeling like the weight of the damn world is on my shoulders. I don’t understand any of this, but I know I’m at the center of something very, very wrong. And because I’m in a trap, Ronan’s stuck in here with me, too.

“This is my fault,” I say, pushing up off the couch because I need to move, too. “And I don’t want to be the reason you—”

“No.” His sharp word cuts me off, and he stalks back toward me, so close I take an involuntary step backward, then another until my back is against the wall.

He stands right in front of me, his hand on the wall above my shoulder. At first, he simply looks at me, his expression so sad and lost it almost breaks my heart.

But then it clears, and all I see is fierce determination. “No,” he says again. “Do not apologize. None of this is your fault. Not one single, goddamn thing. Do you understand that?”

“But—”

He silences me with a kiss, wild and hard and punishing, as if he’s trying to capture everything that he feels in this one moment.

I don’t know what’s going on in his head, and right then, I don’t care. This is what I want. This is what I’ve been craving. The feel of this man next to me, the warmth of his lips on mine, and oh, how I want to get lost in it.

But then, without any warning, he lurches back, breathing hard. “I want you,” he says. “I have for a very long time. But I don’t want to push.”

“You’re not,” I tell him. “And I know you think I want to take it slow, and that I only want to be with you if it’s going somewhere. But that’s not true. Not anymore. I’ve done that, and I still got hurt. I know you won’t hurt me, Ronan. I just want…”

I trail off, trying to gather my courage.

“Tell me, angel. I need to hear you say it. I need to know you’re sure.”

I draw in a breath and lift my chin. I’m aware of my entire body. Every cell humming, heat rushing through me. I push away from the wall so that I’m standing right in front of him.

“You said that for me sex is about trust. A sacrament.” I draw a breath, and with my heart pounding in my chest, I untie the sash on the robe. It falls open, and with one quick shrug, it slides off my shoulders to pool on the ground, leaving me naked in front of him.

“Please, Ronan,” I say. “I trust you.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Brandy…”

His heart pounded from the shock of what she’d done. That she was standing now, naked and trusting, right in front of him. Her arms hung at her sides, and there was no modesty in the way she met his eyes.

He wanted to ask again if she was sure, but he knew the answer. Knew that if he slipped his fingers between her legs, he’d find her slick and open for him. He wanted to taste that heat. His tongue on her clit. His hands clutching her ass as his knees pressed against the floor, and she came for him, his mouth on her pussy as she screamed his name.

He craved it. Craved her.

But first, he needed to touch her.

“Ronan, please.” His name was barely a whisper, but to him it felt like a prayer. He took a step toward her, mesmerized by her eyes. The way she watched him. The way her lips parted.

Slowly, he traced the tip of his finger over the curve of her shoulder, relishing the way she closed her eyes and whimpered, as if forcing herself not to beg for more.