Page 86 of Two Sides of Sin

She turned to face me one last time. She offered a small, heartbreaking smile, gave me a single nod, and turned around to grab the handrail of the bus.

Every instinct in my body rebelled. I couldn’t just let her walk away. Not like this. Not after years of nothing but her memory to keep me comfort.

“Sage.”

I reached out and grabbed her arm. Not hard enough to hurt her, just enough to stop her in her tracks.

She gasped, spinning around just as I closed the distance between us. I didn’t care about the swarms of civilians, the soldiers, or the chaos of the convoy. I dropped my hand from her arm, my fingers instantly tangling deep into the silky, dark waves at the nape of her neck, and pulled her against my chest.

I crashed my mouth down onto hers.

It was a desperate, bruising, emotionally charged collision. All the fury of the night, the terror of almost losing her, and the starving, decades-long ache in my soul poured into that single kiss. Sage melted against me with a soft, desperate sound, her hands flying up to grip the front of my blood-stained vest, kissing me back with an intensity that matched my own.

I devoured the taste of her, pressing her back against the metal side of the transport bus, branding her mouth so deeply she would feel it all the way back home. It was a reclaiming. It was a promise.

Chapter 51

Sage

Istood under the scalding spray of my apartment shower, my eyes closed, letting the water beat down against my tired muscles. The steam was thick, fogging up the glass and turning the small bathroom into a stifling, humid box. I was a world away from the strobing red lights, the sirens, and the smell of death in air. I was safe back in Emeralds Grove.

I leaned my head back, the water plastering my dark hair down my back, and surrendered to the same dangerous thoughts that had consumed me, every single day and night since I arrived back home.

Julian.

I was completely possessed by the memory of him. How he looked under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, his chest framed by blood-splattered tactical gear, sent a thrill down my spine. The way his eyes had tracked me with starving desire made my breath catch in my throat, my lips still burning from the moment he pinned me against the side of the bus and devoured my mouth.

A heavy, pooling heat settled low in my stomach. My breasts felt heavy and overly sensitive, The heat of the shower flushed my skin, but it was nothing compared to the intoxicating memory of his strong hands gripping my waist.

I let out a slow, trembling breath, my hands sliding down my wet skin. I traced the curve of my body, right over the ink of my tattoo, imagining the tender feel of his mouth instead of the water. The tension in my body pulled tighter, a wicked, suffocating kind of longing that made my legs feel weak. I wanted him here. I wanted that beautiful ruin he promised.

Water streamed down my face, blurring my vision as i imagined him standing there, all rough edges and controlled violence, his blood-smeared skin pressed against mine, marking me with his depravity.

My fingers slid lower, through the slick heat of my thighs. I was already dripping, my clit swollen and desperate. I circled it with two fingers, slow at first, then faster, my hips jerking in time with my touch. The shower head still hung in its cradle, but i reached for it, twisting the nozzle until the pressure increased. The moment i angled the stream between my legs, my knees nearly buckled.

*Oh fuck.*

The pulse of water against my clit was relentless, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through my body. I braced one hand against the wall, my free hand gripping the shower head tighter as i rode the sensation. My moans echoing through the bathroom, raw and needy, my body tightening like a bowstring. I was so close—so fucking close. My breath coming in ragged gasps as my orgasm coiled tight in my belly.

BANG BANG BANG

My eyes flew open. The sudden knock at my front door shattered the fantasy like a brick through a window.

Startled, I jerked backward, my wet foot slipping wildly on the porcelain tub. “Who the fuck—?!” I hissed, my arms flailing as I barely managed to catch myself on the cold tile wall before wiping out and splitting my head open.

The shower head clattered to the floor as i fumbled to turn off the water.

The adrenaline immediately killing the sensual haze I had been lost in. Who the hell is at the door?

I quickly got out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy white towel from the rack and wrapped it tightly around my dripping body. I didn’t bother to dry my hair, leaving a trail of wet footprints across the floor of the hallway as I hurried to the front door.

My legs were shaking, my body still trembling from the edge of climax.

I peered through the peephole and let out an annoyed sigh. It was just the mail carrier.

I unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open, shivering slightly in the cool air-conditioning of the apartment.

“Sorry to bother you,” the mailman said, holding out an electronic clipboard. “Need a signature for this.”