My Beautiful Sin

by J. Kenner

  “I don’t have an answer for you. Maybe he thought it was a risk that he could afford to take.”

  “That’s the crux of it though, isn’t it? He was willing to put the people he loved in danger so that he could take a risk.” I take a sip of cocoa, wanting its comforting warmth, but it’s already too cool. “That’s what I want to understand. I want to figure out what made him that way. What changed him. And right now I’m so damn frustrated because I honestly don’t have a clue.”

  I drag my fingers through my hair then wipe my damp eyes. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what to do. What to feel. I want to hate him, but I can’t. I remember him more than I remember her. I thought he was taking care of me because he loved me. But the truth is he felt guilty.”

  Devlin reaches out and takes a firm hold of both my hands. “He loved you.”

  I lift my head and meet his eyes. “Did you know?”

  “That he loved you?”

  I shake my head. “About my mother.”

  Devlin’s eyes go wide as he slowly shakes his head. “No. I swear on my own mother’s grave, I had no idea.”

  I nod, glad he hadn’t been burdened with that truth. “Longfeld said Peter got off on the thrill. Thought that if he survived it meant that nothing could hurt him and so he was always flirting with danger. But in the end he got burned big time, didn’t he?”

  Devlin doesn’t answer right away. Instead he studies my face, the silence lingering for so long that I start to squirm under his heavy gaze. Finally, he says, “You’re not like him, El.”

  I make a scoffing sound, both hating and relishing how well this man can read me.

  “People have facets. You can still love him, El. It’s allowed. And you can hate him too, for what he did. Whatever you’re feeling, give yourself permission to simply feel it.”

  “Is it horrible that right now, all I want to do is sleep?”

  A sad smile touches his lips as he slides off the stool then reaches for me. He helps me down, then immediately picks me up, cradling me in his arms as he carries me to bed. He helps me out of my clothes, and I slide in naked between the sheets. It’s only early evening, but I can already feel the pull of exhaustion drawing me down towards sleep. “Will you hold me?”

  “You don’t even have to ask.”

  He strips and gets in bed beside me. I move closer, craving the feel of his warm skin against mine. His arms go around me, and I close my eyes, letting the world fall away until the only thing keeping me tethered to this earth is his touch as I float free in memories, losing myself in the recollections of my mother, of Peter, of Alex…

  I’m safe in this place where dreams meet memories, where Alex and my mother share the same patio looking out toward the ocean. Where I can stand between them, holding each of their hands in mine.

  Then I realize I’m holding nothing at all. I’m standing on the beach with my arms outstretched and my eyes closed as I listen to waves crash against the shore.

  I hear someone behind me, and I turn to face Peter, my heart skipping a beat when I realize that I’m looking not only at him, but right down the barrel of a gun.

  My heart begins to pound. I want to scream, I can’t. The pulse in my throat is too powerful.

  I hear a click, but Peter’s hand hasn’t moved, and no bullet has been fired.

  Terrified, I whirl around to see Devlin.

  He’s just cocked the hammer of a revolver.

  And as I stare—as I scream—he fires.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “El! El! Ellie! Baby, come on wake up!”

  Devlin’s voice pounds against me through the bitter haze of sleep, and I fight my way up through the fog, forcing my eyes to open and my body to stop screaming with the reverberation of the gunshot. I’m breathing hard when his face comes into focus. His eyes on mine, his brow furrowed, worry painted all across his face. He strokes my cheek and pulls me close and kisses my forehead, murmuring, “Hush, hush, baby. I’m here. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry.” I cling to him, still trying to catch my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Nightmare.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shift, trying to gather the lingering threads of the dream as I sit up in bed, pulling the sheet up and hugging it around me like a security blanket. “I was with Uncle Peter,” I begin, then tell him the dream. Tears prick my eyes as I finish. “You killed Peter to save me,” I say, as Devlin moves even closer, his nearness both comforting and sweetly enticing. He takes my hand, his thumb rubbing the tender skin at my wrist.

  “You killed Peter to protect me,” I say again. “That took courage.”

  “Courage is easy in a dream.”

  I laugh. There’s no denying that’s true. Even so...

  I meet his eyes. “It wasn’t only in a dream, though.” A fist seems to tighten around my heart. “I came back to you because I need you. Because I forgave you. But I’m not sure I truly understood what you went through for me until now.” I press my hand against his jaw, then lightly stroke my thumb over his lip. “What you did—Uncle Peter, I mean—that took courage.”

  When he starts to shake his head, I shift my position so that I can hold his head in place as I look into his eyes. “You told Brandy and Lamar the truth, too. That took courage as well.”

  “Technically, you told them the truth. And neither one of us told Lamar the full truth.”

  I lift a shoulder. “Yeah, well, he’s smart. I think part of me knew he’d figure it out. And don’t split hairs. You made the decision to bring them into our circle. I’m saying thank you.”

  “It’s easy to be courageous if you have a reason.”

  “Me?”

  “What else? Who else?”

  The intensity of the statement acts like a charge on my senses, and I ease closer, wanting —no, needing—to touch him. The sheet has fallen, and we’re both naked. My pulse speeds up and my nipples tighten as I brush a kiss over his lips, craving skin on skin, body on body.

  But when I pull back to look in his eyes, I see not only a desire that rivals my own, but hesitation as well. “What is it?” I ask, confused and a little disappointed.

  He glances away. “When you called out for me in your dream, you called me Devlin.”

  I shake my head, not sure what’s remarkable about that.

  “Uncle Peter was in the dream. When you knew me alongside Peter, I was Alex. Was I Devlin in the dream?”

  It’s already fading in the way that dreams do, and I try to grasp the threads of it, try to pull it back and take a closer look at the dream in my memory. “I think so. I don’t know. But if that’s what I said, then you must have been. Does it matter?”

  He shrugs, almost boyish, and doesn’t answer.

  For a moment, I’m confused, and then understanding dawns. He’s unsure. He’s still not certain if I’m with him because of my lingering love for Alex or if I’ve truly accepted this new man—Devlin—in all of his facets. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  “Do I?”

  “I loved Alex,” I say, untangling myself from the sheet and settling myself on his lap. The sheet is still a barrier—he’d tugged it to his hips as he’d slid up in the bed—but I can feel his erection teasing my core all the same. I can feel the tension in his body, too. It’s costing him to hold back. To not take me as he wants to, claiming my body until he’s conquered the nightmare for me. And this moment—this insight into the vulnerability of the man I love—makes my heart swell.

  “I love you,” I say, wishing there was an even bigger, more encompassing word. “You’re the same as the Alex you were, but you’re different, too, and there’s room in my heart for both versions.”

  Gently, his hands rest on my waist. “I hope that’s true,” he says, and there’s a harshness to his voice that I’m not expecting in such a tender moment.

  I reach out and tuck a lock of his chin-length hair behind his ear. “Devlin? Tell me what’s goi
ng on.”

  “That’s the issue, isn’t it? You don’t really know the new me. Not completely. And honestly? I’m not sure you ever will.”

  His words chill me, but I do my best not to show it. “Well, that’s true with anybody, isn’t it? You can never know anyone completely.” I press my hand to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin. “But I know your heart. I know the core of you. Don’t I?”

  He meets my eyes and nods. One single tilt of his head. “Yes. You do.”

  I lean forward, resting my forehead against his as he strokes my back. I don’t doubt that he loves me, but I also know that we’re still finding our way together, like a toddler trying to walk. Our romance when we’d been Alex and Ellie had been like a bright flame, a Romeo and Juliet love that had ended appropriately in tragedy.

  Now we’re having to work through the remnants of that, but we still click, maybe even more than we did back then. But that doesn’t mean it’s not terrifying, and it doesn’t mean we both don’t know the real truth—everything ends. Nothing is permanent. And though I want to believe that we will be together forever, I know the dream can be ripped away from us in a heartbeat.

  He knows that as well as I do, and I wonder if that’s why he hasn’t yet said he loves me. Not out loud. Not like Alex did.

  He calls me El, yes, and I take comfort in that, but he’s never spoken those simple words. I know he loves me—hell, even Tamra says he does. But I still long for the words. And I think that until I hear them, I’m going to keep protecting my heart, just a little, even when he’s holding me close.

  With a sigh, I force these melancholy thoughts away. I sit up straight again, the movement reminding me that he’s naked beneath that sheet. Warmth floods my body, a sensual hunger, and I consider abandoning my question in favor of simply kissing him and letting us both get lost in oblivion. It’s so tempting, and yet at the same time, I want more than physical closeness. I want to peer into the places that Devlin keeps hidden. I know that maybe he won’t ever let me in, and I’ll deal with that when I have to. Now, though, I’m going to keep knocking at that door.

  I draw a breath. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” he says.

  “What if we’d never found each other again? Would our time together as Alex and Ellie still have been worth it to you?”

  I both see and feel his body go tense, and I know he’s trying to discern the dark hole in my mind from which I pulled the question.

  “How can you doubt that?”

  “It’s just a question,” I say, trying to be casual.

  I keep my eyes on his, as if I can see the answer before he speaks. But there are no clues in those sandy irises. Not until he says, “I’ll tell you a secret—I prefer the woman who’s with me now. She’s all grown up and she’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  Tears prick my eyes as he continues. “The Ellie I fell in love with as Alex was still a child in so many ways. I loved her, yes, but we were both too young to know what that meant. Now, we know what we have in each other, and I know what it is that I want to protect.”

  “Devlin—”

  He presses a fingertip to my lips and doesn’t miss a beat. “But I keep the El from my past locked in my heart, where she’ll stay for my lifetime. Hell, she’s the reason the foundation is here, she’s the reason...”

  “What?” I ask, my throat thick with tears.

  “She’s—you’re—the reason I try to be a better man.”

  “What do you mean? You’re about as good as they come. You’re even getting an award for it in a few weeks.” I add a teasing grin, deliberately trying to lighten this moment that is tugging so hard at my heart.

  “You’ve heard about that?”

  “Tamra told me.” I lean forward and brush a kiss over his lips, full of pride in this man. “The World Council Award for Humanitarian Services. You deserve it.”

  “There are a lot of people who deserve it. They named me, but everyone at the DSF has a piece of that award.”

  “They do,” I say. “And I’m still very impressed.” I flash a flirty grin. “I might even want to be your groupie.”

  His lips twitch, and I can’t help myself as I reach up to run my finger over the scar that bisects his upper lip. “Is that so?” he asks.

  “Would I lie?”

  He tilts his head, studying me, and I feel the subtle shift in the air, as if the electrons surrounding us have begun spinning faster, generating heat and creating a force that is leading us inexorably toward each other. Gone is my awe at his sweet words. Gone is the teasing. It’s stripped away, leaving me and Devlin and the need laid bare between us.

  “I don’t want a groupie,” he says as his hands lightly stroke my skin from the curve of my ass up the small of my back.

  “Then what do you want?” My voice is husky, and it’s taking all my willpower not to undulate my hips, rubbing myself over the sheet and the steel of his erection beneath.

  “I want you,” he says, making my core throb in anticipation. “I want to taste you. To sink inside you. I want you on your back beneath me, and, dammit, El, I want to know you’re mine.”

  “Don’t you already?”

  “I know it,” he says. “Now, I want to feel it.”

  “Yes,” I whisper, my body craving him already, my skin alive with the anticipation of his touch. His hands go to my shoulders, and he easily shifts me onto my back. As he does, he throws the sheet aside, leaving us both naked, our skin bathed in the soft light through the window.

  His knees are on either side of my hips and he casually strokes his cock as his eyes lock on mine. There’s an eternity of desire in his eyes, and all I can think is forever. That no matter what, I will always belong to this man. I’ve been marked by him. Claimed by him. And as I feel that deep tremor of need, I know that what I want more than anything is to be touched by him. Used. Claimed. Taken.

  I want everything. Soft and sweet. Hard and masterful. I want everything he has to give, and I would willingly spend my entire life in this bed to achieve that goal.

  “You’re smiling.”

  “I’m thinking of everything I want you to do to me,” I admit. “I’m having some very naughty thoughts.”

  His brow rises. “Are you? Interesting.” Slowly, he trails his eyes over me, his gaze lingering on my lips, my breasts. “Baby, you’re so beautiful. Close your eyes.”

  I obey, then arch up in response to his hands on my breasts. He’s bent forward, and I can feel his erection against my belly, teasing me as his palms slowly stroke me and his fingers tease my nipples, gently at first, and then harder until I’m biting my lower lip and my pussy is throbbing, the hot wire of sweet pain shooting from my nipple all the way down to my core.

  “You like that.” It’s not a question. He knows me, after all. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  I do, and he shifts again. Now, his cock is between my legs, and I whimper, wanting him inside me, not teasing my clit and sensitive folds. I want him to fill me, and I’m about to beg when his mouth closes over my breast and he sucks, his teeth scraping my skin as his hand closes over my other breast while his free hand finds my mouth.

  I draw him in, sucking on his thumb as if I was giving him head, gratified when I hear him moan. I want him to feel the way I do, as if every wondrous sensation is here for our enjoyment. As if we’re the only two people in the world and we’ve inherited all the pleasure in it.

  I cry out as he nips at my breast, my teeth scraping over his thumb as he slides down my body, his whiskers rough against my skin as he kisses his way down my belly. My cries turn to desperate whimpers as he reaches my mons, then uses the tip of his tongue to tease my clit mercilessly. I try to wriggle my hips. Try to buck against him. Try to move in a way that insists his tongue works harder, faster, deeper.

  But I can’t do anything. His hands on my hips have pinioned me to the bed, and I’m completely at his mercy as he sucks and laves my sensitive clit, taking me higher and highe
r, but never quite letting me go over.

  “Please.” I’m reduced to begging him. Pleading for him to give me what I need. “Please,” I say again, this time opening my eyes as I beg. The view is beyond erotic. His face between my legs, his eyes tilting up to lock on mine as his tongue plays me so intimately—and so expertly.

  He starts to lift his head, but I reach out, curling my fingers in his hair and holding him in place as I grind against him, knowing only that I want to reach that pinnacle and, more, that I want Devlin to be the one who takes me there.

  “God yes,” he murmurs against my flesh, the heat of his breath sending more shivers. With my free hand I tug on my nipple as I arch up and close my eyes. I hear his low groan and I whimper, knowing he’s watching me.

  So far he’s been using only his tongue, but now he shifts his hands, lifting my ass with one palm and holding me in place as he slips his fingers inside me, curving them up to find that sensitive spot deep within.

  I gasp, then cry out, “Devlin.” His name is like an incantation, and I explode, my core tightening around his fingers, my body shaking, and all the stars in heaven seeming to fall down around me.

  “Oh, baby,” he says, sliding up my body to kiss me as I melt beneath him. Slowly he enters me, then buries his cock deep inside with slow, easy thrusts that become more desperate as I clutch at his ass, drawing him deeper, my hips rising to meet his thrusts as he pounds into me, a wonderful, wild claiming after the flurry of delicious kisses that had been our warm up.

  “Yes,” I cry, my fingers clutching him as I urge him in deeper and deeper until finally I feel that tremor deep inside him. It flows through him and into me, sending fresh waves of pleasure crashing through me as he cries out, emptying himself into me as I murmur, yes, yes, yes, not even certain if I’m speaking aloud.

  He collapses beside me, and I twine my legs with him as I look into his eyes, wanting to lose myself in the way he’s looking at me. As if I’m all that exists in the world to him.

  For a moment we stay like that, breathing hard. Then I see the shadow cross his face.