Page 64 of Where Sinners Repent

Without a word, he lets my hair slip free.

His leg swings over the bike, the engine roaring with a twist of the throttle. Swallowing hard, I climb on behind him. When we roar away with a jolt, he tugs me closer until I’m pressed to his back, holding on tight.

Feeling the firm muscles and the rumble of the motor has my pussy throbbing. This has got to be the most insane foreplay I’ve ever experienced.

By the time we hit the road, the cool night air biting through my tracksuit pants and hoodie, my skin feels too tight and a hot sweat forms between my shoulder blades. I can barely enjoy the ride, whipping through the city at high speed, too focused on Kai.

My fingers absently play with the hard plains of his stomach over his shirt and I feel him stiffen. I don’t stop.

In a fever, we arrive at the studio, and I all but flop off the back of the bike, trying and failing to wrench the helmet off. I can barely breathe. My fingers fumble with the strap until it finally loosens, and I rip it off, sucking deep breaths through my nose, thankful for his aversion to looking at me so I can fall off the deep end without him noticing.

I’m so wound up I barely notice that the glass to the studio has all been repaired. My mouth pops open, eyes widening as I reach for my keys. Unlocking the door, I reach for the light switch.

It’s definitely not back to the way it was, but it’s a blank canvas. All the rubble, broken furniture, and glass have been cleaned up. All the blood.

The walls have been painted black, and my artworks have been stacked neatly in a pile.

“What the fuck?” I murmur in wonder, walking around the room.

Kai watches with his hands in his pockets at the door.

Spinning around on the spot, my heart clenches. “Who did this?”

When Kai doesn’t answer, I peek up at him. He avoids my gaze. My heart quickens as I stride over to him.

“Did Ash do this?” I whisper.

He shakes his head just once.

My next breath is shaky.

“Did Maddy do this?”

For some reason, I already know the answer to the question. Confirmed, when he shakes his head again.

“You?”

This time, he does nothing. Eyes fixed on the ground.

My palm lands on his chest, emotion burning the backs of my eyes and making my nose all twitchy.

“And you bought me the tattoo machine?” I don’t need him to confirm or deny what I already know. He doesn’t, of course. “Thank you,” I breathe, lip trembling.

Cold eyes slide up to mine, unblinking and unfeeling. Until they narrow, just a fraction.

“I didn’t do it for you,” he bites out, his voice nothing but a rasp from everything unsaid.

I flinch, his words landing as he intended them to.

Why can’t he just accept my thanks? Why can he barely stand to look me in the eyes?

Irritation flares between my ribs, and I lift my chin. “Yes. You did.”

His eyes darken and a spark of fear flashes at that look. But I don’t back down.

“Thank you, Kai.” I repeat. “You’ve done more than you could possibly know for me, when nobody else has.”

“It was Boss’s orders,” he growls, gripping my hand and prying it off him.