Page 101 of My Beautiful Sin

I shook my head. It was September, but the night was warm, and I forced myself not to think about Alex and concentrated on the guy beside me. A guy I barely knew but who wanted me. A guy I could fuck and leave, knowing that—once again—I’d be the one making the choice.

I’d be the one doing the leaving.

We ended up about half a mile from the original club. A seedier area, with dark, stench-filled alleys. “Down there,” he said, nodding toward a metal door illuminated by a single, dim bulb. “Loud music, strong drinks, dark corners.”

He pulled me to a stop and cupped my breast as he said the last, moving closer so that his hips brushed against me and I could feel his erection. “I think we’ll have a damn good time.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” I said. “But you’re going to have to do better than that.” I pushed past him and continued toward the door, wanting to take back some of the control. Needing that push, pull. I wanted him desperate for me. And I wanted to be the one who said when and how. Mostly, I wanted to be the one to end it.

Maybe Max was the best I’d get that night. Or maybe there was someone better waiting down in that dark, basement club.

My hand reached the handle, and I pulled, but it didn’t give way.

“Fucking bitch.”

He was right behind me, and I heard the words at the same time I felt the steel blade at my throat. “Do you think I don’t know what you are, you little slut? Do you think I haven’t watched you? Oh, don’t worry, bitch. I’ll fuck you just like you want it. I own you, bitch.”

The blade pressed harder, and I tried not to swallow, because I didn’t want my throat to move. I knew how to defend myself, but he was bigger and knew what he was doing. One wrong move, and he’d slice my throat.

Of course, he was planning to do that anyway. I was certain of it.

The ice-cold memory washes over me as I draw a ragged breath, my eyes on Devlin.

“Yes,” I say. “I was terrified. And angry.” I add the last with a shake of my head. “I was so, so angry.” I hiccup, and it’s only then that I realize I’m crying. “And then suddenly he was off me.”

The other man in the alley stopped him. The man I’d noticed before who reminded me of Alex. A tall man, dressed all in black, including a black baseball cap, the bill slung low to cast a shadow over his face. He wore a bandana over his nose and mouth, but I could see his green eyes and just a hint of dark hair that gleamed under the dim light of the single bulb.

A man I now know was Devlin.

He held Max against him, the blade now at Max’s throat. “Go,” he’d said to me, his voice a low, raspy whisper. But even then, there was something familiar about it. “Run,” he’d said. “You’re strong, dammit. Get the fuck out of here.”

You’re strong. Alex’s words to me. I knew they had to be a coincidence, but I wrapped myself in their sweetness anyway.

And, yes, I ran. And, yes, I knew what the stranger would do to Max. And I didn’t fucking care.

Now, I feel the whisper of tears down my cheeks as I look at Devlin. “You were right there. Right. There.”

“Do you think it was easier for me? That close and not able to say a word? Do you think I walked away unscathed?”

I drag my fingers through my hair. “No. I think we’re a goddamn Shakespearean tragedy.”

“Not a tragedy,” he says. “An epic romance. The kind that has a happy ending.”

“Do epic romances ever end happily?”

“Ours does,” he says firmly, then stands, holding out a hand for me. “Come to bed, El. I need you.”

His words flutter against my heart. “Yes,” I say, twining his fingers with mine. “I need you, too.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

My body aches pleasantly after making love, and with a satisfied sigh, I roll onto my side and hook my bare leg over his torso. “You still haven’t told me about Carrie. She was your date in New York, and now she thinks you’re the devil.”

His face hardens. “I think it’s fair to say that Carrie qualifies as one of my regrets.”

I ease my leg off of him and sit up, pulling the sheet up to cover me as I lean back against the headboard.

He shifts so that he can see me better, then slowly shakes his head. “No,” he says gently. “There wasn’t anything between us—not that way. I told you. There’s only ever been one woman I’ve been serious about.”