Page 79 of Sin for You

“Funny, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re doing.”

Her chest was rising and falling, face flushed. She took a step back and shook her head. “This is…it’s just too hard. I don’t think we should—”

“Quinn,” I barked out, fear gripping me tighter, stopping her from saying the rest. I was breathing hard, on the verge of hyperventilating, because I knew what her next words were going to be and I didn’t want to hear them.

She swallowed several times, and I could see so much moving behind her eyes, but thankfully she didn’t finish that sentence. No, she looked up at me and offered a wobbly smile. “I’m going to head back to my room. I don’t want Dane to know I was in here. Probably a good idea if we both get some sleep anyway.”

My throat was so tight I felt like I was choking. I didn’t want her anywhere but with me, wrapped around me like she always did, like she needed me.

Like she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

Instead, I said, “You’re probably right.” I closed the distance between us and pulled her against me. She came without resistance—thank fuck—and I kissed her softly. “Sleep well, sweets.”

I watched her walk out the door and close it quietly behind her, knowing that it was more than likely the last time I’d ever kiss her.

Chapter Twenty

Quinn

I felt sick to my stomach.

After pulling open the door to my room in Cassy’s guesthouse, I rushed down the hall, back to Bull’s room. I’d hardly slept, had tossed and turned. It was barely light outside, but I couldn’t wait another moment.

I wanted to make sure we were okay. I’d reacted badly last night. God, I’d been confused, my head all over the place. The intimacy, the way he’d looked at me had scared me, because I thought—no, I knew if I let myself, I could fall hard for Logan, so very easily.

I could give him my heart.

And that terrified me.

It was only four months ago that I was engaged, convinced I was happy, looking forward to the future. That I’d finally gotten it right. I didn’t trust my own judgment anymore. I didn’t know what I wanted, what I was doing half the time.

Maybe we could have explored the idea of making this thing more than just sex eventually, but I needed time and I was leaving soon. I wasn’t ready. My heart wasn’t ready.

The scars on the broken organ beating in my chest were deep, and the idea of trusting someone, even Bull, with it—a man I knew would never cheat on me or purposely hurt me—was like jumping off a really high freaking wall and relying on someone else to catch you, or risk breaking both your ankles.

I didn’t want to break my ankles…

Or my heart, not again. Just the idea sent dread through me strong enough to make my pulse race and my palms sweat.

I knocked on his door softly.

“Yeah,” he said from the other side of the heavy wood.

I pushed the door open and stepped back into the room I’d fled just a few short hours ago, and everything felt…different.

Bull was standing at the bathroom door in just his jeans, looking rumpled and sexy. His wide, thick inked chest dusted with hair was so sexy and familiar and comforting. I needed to feel him against me. I needed reassurance.

Before I knew that I was going to do it, I ran at him.

He caught me as I leaped into his strong arms, buried his face against the side of my throat, and carried me away from the bathroom and into the room. His massive arms squeezed me tight…

Before he stood me on my feet and took a step back.

I looked up at the expression on his face and my throat felt like it was closing up.

Oh God.

I tried to smile, but it felt wobbly. “Look, about last night,” I said, rushing to get the words out, hating the look on his face. “I just needed some space. I’ve had time to think, and honestly, the whole Bevan thing, it affected me more than I realized, and I guess I…I projected that onto you.”