Page 12 of Sin (Salvation #1)

Sin

“Sin,” Cassidy asks, in almost a whisper, “who are you attracted to?”

You . The answer echoes through my brain. You, my innocent stepbrother, who makes my heart and cock throb.

I wonder what spurred him to ask me. Curiosity maybe? Everyone else seems to be fascinated by the question that I refuse to answer. Fuck them. My life, my sexuality. But this isn’t the media or nosey factions with strong opinions about my answer—this is Cassidy. I answer honestly.

“Mainly guys,” I answer. “But I don’t mind a girl or three thrown in the mix when I’m in the mood.”

“What about Mercer?” Cassidy asks, his face going all pissed-off kitten the way it does whenever Mercer is around or even when I just casually mention his name. “Doesn’t he mind?”

I laugh. “Mercer is even a bigger slut than I am. We’re friends who sometimes make each other feel good without having to worry about one of us catching feelings.”

Cassidy quirks his neck to the side. “What’s wrong with feelings?”

“Everything.” I sit back on the pretentious table my father paid too much money for and use it as a stool so I’m facing Cassidy.

“It’s a pain in the ass when you fuck someone and all of a sudden they’re staring at you with moon eyes and thinking you owe them more than the mind-blowing orgasm you just gave them. ”

“Mind-blowing?” Cassidy squeaks out.

I give him a cocky grin, which he answers with a blush. “Haven’t you developed feelings for any of them ?”

“Impossible,” I scoff. “I don’t have feelings. I can’t give them something I don’t have.”

He looks like he’s about to disagree with me, but his curiosity has brought a few questions of my own to mind. “What about you?”

He almost squirms in his seat at my attention. “What about me?”

“Your Insta states you identify as gay?”

He sits up in his chair, every muscle tense. “That page is private.” He shoots me an accusatory look chock-full of righteous indignation. “You invaded my privacy.”

“Yeah, I did.” I cop to it. “Had to make sure your socials were safe from my father. Trust me. That’s not information he needs to know about you until you turn eighteen and are far away from him and this house.”

“But you’re always in the news and on gossip sites. You may refuse to declare your sexuality publicly, but you don’t hide who you are or who you like. How come it’s okay for you and not for me?”

“I have armor against my father that you don’t have.

Money and a major fuck-with-me-and-try attitude.

Trust me,” I say, the bitterness steeped in my voice, “I wasn’t always able to fight my father, and I never want you to have to go through what I did.

So, until you’re eighteen and safely away from this hell-house, your socials stay private.

After that, I’ll throw you the biggest coming out party ever. ”

I can tell he’s about to question me on my comment about my father, so I quickly change the topic back to its earlier focus. “What made you realize you were gay?”

The blush I triggered earlier comes back and deepens, tinting his cheeks a darkish red.

At first, I’m too caught up in the prettiness of it, but then my mind kicks up a troublesome thought. Who else has made Cassidy blush like this? My eyes narrow, and I lean in closer to him. “Or maybe the better question is who made you realize you were gay?”

I realize that I lied earlier. I do have feelings. Lots of them. The one leading the pack is a red fiery rage that makes me want to burn down his old goddamned school to ashes.

I’d somehow deluded myself. When I thought of Cassidy attending school at Bellmore, I’d always pictured him in his happy place—the library surrounded by a hundred books, not surrounded by a bunch of horny teens seducing him into exploring his sexuality.

“Who was it?” I demand, deciding that I’ll destroy the bastard in the spare time I have when I’m not taking down my father. A two-for-one special.

“None of your business,” he says as he moves to get up—bad move . You don’t run from an angry predator. Within a second, I’m on my feet and standing over him, keeping him pinned to the couch. I have to know the name of the boy who stole his first kiss from Cassidy.

Who stole his first kiss and everything else from me?

“Who was it?”

“It’s none of your business,” he says, evading my gaze.

That pisses me off. “It’s totally my business,” I tell him. “I’m your brother.”

“Stepbrother,” he grits out.

My grip on him tightens. “Who was your first kiss?” I repeat.

He flings my arm away. “Kaleigh Appleton,” he shouts, shooting me a furious glare. “Are you finally happy now?”

“Kaleigh?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he pushes out a breath of frustration.

“Ben, my roommate, begged me to go to a party and hang out with her because he really liked her friend. We danced a couple of times, but I told her I just wanted to be friends. She grabbed my face, slammed her lips down on mine, and pushed her tongue inside my mouth.”

“Looks like Kaleigh needs to learn the rules of consent.”

“I jumped back trying to get away from her and hit into the beer pong table.”

I laugh. He gives me an indignant look.

“It’s not funny. Beer went everywhere. Everyone laughed, and I hurt her feelings.” He looks down. “She was a nice girl. I just couldn’t like her the way she wanted me to.”

I put my index finger under his chin and raise his face so he meets my gaze. “That’s not on you. You like who you like. Fuck everybody else.”

He nods his head in understanding.

“Who else?” I ask because I’m self-destructive like that.

He swallows and looks down at his hands, and when he looks up there’s embarrassment shading his beautiful eyes. “There was nobody else,” he says softly.

“You’ve never kissed anyone but the pushy Kaleigh?”

“No,” he says on a sigh, his untouched lips trembling at the admission.

Relief rushes through me. I have no right to it.

I should be ashamed of it, but instead I rejoice that that innocent face of his and the blushes he so easily gives me whenever I get close aren’t just illusions of innocence.

That his lips are untouched by real passion.

Almost as if they’ve been waiting—waiting for me.

I reach out to trace them. At my touch, he lets out a gasp and his lips purse in an unintentional pucker.

“Sin,” Cassidy says my name. I think it’s a plea, but it comes out more like a prayer.

I continue to explore his lips, each swipe of my thumb becoming harder, more aggressive. “You’re so good. So perfect, I never know if I should protect that goodness, or?—”

“Or what?” he croaks out.

My gaze drops to his lips. “Be the man to ruin it.”