Page 12 of My Forever Sin

He sighs and with two long strides, he’s on me. His hand wraps around my neck while his forehead cushions against mine but there’s nothing gentle about the way he’s gripping me. It feels possessive. There’s desperation in his movements as he backs us into the church wall. His eyes blaze into mine through the dark strands of his hair and his breaths come in heavy, whereas I’m not even sure if I’m breathing or not.

“You’re coming with me.”

I swallow beneath his hand, and let out a breath through parted, trembling lips, unable to form any words. My head is a storm of only two emotions—rage and longing. Longing for the man I used to love.

“I’m not letting you be taken away from me again,” he whispers shakily.

My senses seem to finally return, because I knee him between his thighs, making him grunt and let go of me.

I’m Westbrook property now. His property.

“You’re fucking insane. Whatever you think we had before, we don’t now.” I spit at his hunched frame. Beside my emotions, I crack first… Or did he? “Do you have any idea what you did to me?” My voice raises with each word, my temper harder to control with every second. “You’re nothing but a snake. A viper. A coward.”

In a flash, I’m in his grip with my head pressed into his chest and my arms pinned by my sides.

“Whatever you say, little devil,” he grits out. Clearly, my hit still lingers. Good.

He walks us backwards again while I fight to get out of his grip. “Let me go!” I squeeze out my words into his chest, which smells of freshly sprayed cologne.

Back then, I probably would have been able to push him off. Now, it’s impossible, he’s all muscle and man, and he has me in an iron grip.

No doubt we now have an audience. With that in mind, I use this as an opportunity to drive my point home. The only person that should be shamed are the Westbrook’s.

“Help! My stepbrother is kidnapping me—” The final word comes out muffled as I’m swiftly spun around so my back presses into his hard muscles, and a hand clasps over my mouth. He’s manhandling me like it’s nothing.

I look around and notice there’s no one here, everyone has dispersed, and the only thing in the carpark is his electric blue Audi.

“Keep screaming about our love to the whole town, little devil. I’m not against it.”

I pry my mouth open and bite his palm but he seems unfazed. Clamping down my teeth, I dig harder, using my sharpest teeth to break skin. Iron rolls across my tongue and I cringe, realising I just wounded him. His hand comes away as we reach his car and he swings open the door, shoving me inside. I halt with my hands on the seat and lock my knees before he has a chance to shove me fully and close the door.

He lets out a long sigh and pushes his knee into the back of mine, making me stumble inside the car with a squeal.

4

Kain

There’s a low buzz of delight tinkering at my fingertips. That, and the drugs in my system, are enough to make me ignore the fact the woman currently bent over in front of me, the peach of her ass peeking through the shortest shorts known to man, undeniably hates my guts.

My Jordie.

She’s back.

She’s really fucking here.

The moment I saw her step out of the car, my whole life flashed before my eyes. My entire body wanted to slump with relief, drop to the ground and thank whoever it was for sending her back to me, but instead, I kept my face stoic, matching the exact look that was fixed on her face. That new, hard, haunted expression. I couldn’t do anything but watch as her nose twitched with displeasure at the church. Then she saw me. Her eyes clashed with mine, and my knees almost gave way but then I saw nothing but ice-cold indisposition, and I knew. I knew she still hated me with every fibre of her being. But, fuck, did I want to run to her, to hold her, to make sure she was fucking real and I wasn’t seeing an apparition.

Gripping the sides of her hips, I attempt to guide her onto the seat properly, but she kicks out her leg, almost striking me in my groin, again. “Get off me!”

I firm my grip on her and twist, successfully landing her into the seat with my arm trapped under her ass, and my face practically inside her cleavage. Her worked breaths tickle the hair on my head as I laugh and reluctantly turn my head to meet her furious gaze. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

She shoves my arm away and lifts her ass to free my other arm. I close the door, rounding the car. The click of her passenger door makes me yank open my own within milliseconds, and I leap over her to slam hers shut again. Pressing her into the seat with my body, the gearstick digs into the side of my hip.

She grunts, pushing me away. With a heaving chest, she crosses her arms, her face a silent, beautiful fury. “Drive.”

Her command shouldn’t be stirring wickedness through me—none of the way she’s acting should—but it does.

And her face. God, her face. I fucking missed that pale skin; the lashes that are too long to be human, and the plump lips I could kiss all day, and they’d still taste of chocolate.