Page 52 of The Season to Sin


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He shakes his head. ‘All night.’

I frown. ‘It’s a Wednesday.’

He nods slowly. ‘I don’t care.’

And I feel his burning need. Not for me sexually, but for me personally in the aftermath of whatever will happen here.

I think of Ivy and my heart turns over. I can arrange a sleepover for her with Diane easily enough.

And I do want to see this through with Noah...

‘Let’s see how...compliant...you are first.’ And, unable to suppress the regret from my voice, I say, ‘Zip up, Noah. Let’s get down to business.’

‘I thought we were.’

I shake my head, repressing a smile. ‘You can stay in my chair if that helps.’ I can’t sit down. My blood is zipping; my insides are quivering. I stalk towards the window and look out at the view. The sky is grey today, reminding me a little of the morning we left Paris. Snow had turned to sludge on the ground, stained brown by feet and time.

‘Tell me about the tattoo.’

‘Tattoo?’ He almost laughs. ‘Which tattoo?’

‘Nineteen ninety-nine.’

His eyes narrow. ‘What about it?’

‘What does it mean?’

‘Why do you think it means anything?’

I roll my eyes. ‘You just got a random number burned into your skin?’

‘Inked, not burned.’

‘Whatever. What’s the deal?’

He presses his lips together and I force myself to stare at him, not his cock, which is still exposed to my view and hard as anything.

‘It’s the year I met Gabe,’ he admits finally.

I feel like I’ve cracked a hard nut. Success fires through my blood. It’s small. Inconsequential.

‘He has one too.’

Any other time, I might have disarmed him with a quip about friendship bracelets, but not this time. Not now. I nod seriously and change tack.

‘Let’s talk about your childhood.’

He stands and I watch him for a moment, but he’s simply zipping his jeans up. He doesn’t sit down again, though. He comes to stand opposite me, his shoulder pressed against the window jamb, his eyes resting on the same view as mine.

‘What do you want to know?’

I hear the terror and displeasure in his voice, but he’s here. Answering me.

‘Were you ever hit?’

‘No.’

‘Abused physically in any way?’

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