Page 69 of Sinful Desires (Sinful #4)

Chapter

Fifty-Three

“My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person,he believed in me.”

― Jim Valvano

Théo

The soft beeping of the machine, that goddamn sound I hated more than anything, greeted me as I pushed open the door to my father’s hospital room and shut it quietly behind me.

A fresh bouquet of lavender and yellow mimosa sat on the nightstand, still dewy from this morning. My mother and Scarlett had brought it.

The two of them had gotten close over the past few weeks. Closer than I’d expected.

Ever since the Oscars, everything had shifted.

That kiss. That night.

The video had gone viral in under an hour. The world decided we were theirs.

They had given us a name— StarGuard .

The tweets had gone crazy that night.

Scarlett Harper bagged a military-grade bodyguard with cheekbones sharp enough to cut me in half . How do I unsubscribe from this life .

The way he never smiles but looks at her like he’d kill the sun if it hurt her???? Yeah I’m sick .

Her dress . His hand on her waist . The tension . I’m sweating . Someone write the Wattpad version immediately!!!!

I don’t know who needs to hear this but I would risk it all for StarGuard . That kiss?? Oscars who??

StarGuard isn’t just a ship, it’s a lifestyle . A religion . A federal problem .

If he looked at me like that I’d PASS AWAY immediately .

Scarlett babe you won . lock him down . breed him . I SAID WHAT I SAID .

They weren’t supposed to fall in love and that’s EXACTLY why they did . someone chain me to the nearest wall because I can’t take this .

Literally on my knees for them!!!!!

She read them all to me on the way back to New York. Every tweet, every headline, every unhinged declaration of obsession.

The fucked-up thing about the internet? One day, they were dragging your corpse through the dirt. The next, they were licking your wounds and asking for a piece of you.

Her friend had even made an announcement on stage that night. Oscar in hand, spotlight glaring, the world hanging on his voice.

Said he was in love with a man. Matthew. His fiancé.

Never thought he had it in him.

Scarlett watched the videos on repeat, crying like the world had cracked open from joy.

Hours later, we’d packed what was left of our things and boarded the jet.

Somewhere over the ocean, I asked where she wanted to go.

She didn’t meet my stare right away. Her eyes were soft, almost shy.

“I want to go back to France. Where we stayed.”

My shoulders tensed. Pressure slid up my spine and bloomed behind my ribs.

She reached over and touched my hand. It instantly stopped climbing. That slow, sick panic flattening into something warm.

I nodded once, then called Captain Pascal and told him to prepare everything for us.

And when we landed, it was waiting.

Same villa. Same view.

She padded barefoot through the living room, the glass walls casting the sea in blue light. It was early morning; the sun was just starting to rise. We’d slept a little on the jet, but the jetlag still clung to our skin.

“I love it so much,” she said, sighing softly. “The view, the house. It’s so lovely.”

I followed her in and wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulder. She leaned back into me, her hands resting over mine, another quiet sigh escaping her lips.

“Do you want it?”

She laughed under her breath, light and tired. “Sadly, it’s not for sale.”

“I’m sure I can make it happen,” I murmured, lips dragging along her neck, the scent of lavender lingering on my skin.

She let out a breath, low and amused.

“Keep feeding me lines like that and I’m gonna start abusing the power you give me, soldier.”

A dark, low chuckle clawed its way up my chest as my hand slid down her hips, fingers tightening just enough to make her press back against me.

She’d changed on the jet, trading that emerald gown for soft yoga pants and a long-sleeved hoodie that swallowed her whole. But nothing about her felt soft in that moment.

Not the way she’d arched against me.

“Go ahead, baby,” I muttered, mouth brushing her ear. “Use it. Abuse it. And I’ll take it all back on my knees between your legs, right before I remind you what that power costs.”

Her breath caught in her throat, a filthy little gasp that slid down my spine and wrapped around my cock.

My tongue dragged along her neck, before I sucked her skin hard enough to leave proof. Her pulse jumped under my mouth.

“Good to know,” she whispered, voice dripping filth. “Because I changed my mind, Théo. Begging’s my new favorite kink.”

“Good,” I growled, biting her throat. “Because I’ll have you begging until your last breath.”

I turned her face to mine, voice guttural. “You’re mine, Scarlett. Forever . I’ll fuck that truth so deeply inside you, it’ll bleed through your DNA.”

I grabbed her chin and kissed her.

She smiled against my lips. “I can’t wait.”

Three days later, the twenty-six-million-dollar property with three acres of land and a private beach was bought and transferred to her name.

I had been frugal these past fourteen years, not out of discipline, but because I hadn’t fucking deserved the kind of life my family had left behind.

I lived simply, quietly, like a man biding time.

But now, for the first time, I had a reason.

And I would spend every one of my billions without a second thought, just to see that smile again. The real one. The one where her nose tipped up and the rest of the world forgot to exist.

On our fifth night, she said she wanted to swim in the ocean.

I followed her down the beach and sat on the warm sand, the sun beginning to lower behind the cliffs, casting gold over her skin. She ran laughing into the sea, her red hair wild down her back, arms stretched as she dove and twirled through the waves.

When she came back, the white bikini clung to her skin, turned transparent by the salt and water, hundreds of droplets rolling down her body.

I tipped my head up.

“Hey, beauté .”

She blushed and reached for my hand.

“Come with me, Théo.”

My breath locked in my throat.

The sound of the waves twisted something in my gut. My spine stiffened, hands flexing uselessly in the sand.

My body went still. Every instinct screamed no .

“I don’t like it, Scarlett.”

“I know, baby,” she said softly. “Let me help you. One day at a time.”

I stared out at the water, watching it crash and roll like it knew what it did to me.

“I chose the Navy for a reason,” I muttered. “Because I didn’t want this shit to own me. I didn’t want fear. So, I made myself live in it.”

Her hand tightened around mine. I didn’t look at her.

“I hate it. The waves. The salt. The fucking pull. I’ve always hated it. But I went anyway. Every time. I fought through it.”

My throat burned. The sun felt cold suddenly, the air too sharp.

“But I can never fucking stay. Not for long.”

She moved in front of me, dropping to her knees in the sand.

“For me, please ,” she whispered. “Not because you have to fight it. Not because you have something to prove. But because I want to be in it with you.”

Her fingers brushed my cheek.

“I don’t need you to be fearless, Théo. I just need you to let me in. Let me hold you through it.”

Her voice cracked.

“I want to know what it’s like to swim with you. To be with you in the one place you never let anyone see. Even if it’s just your feet in the water, or your shadow by the shore. I want that part of you too.”

I looked at her. And it fucking hurt.

Because she meant it. All of it.

And no one ever had.

She stayed on her knees in the sand, hands sliding up my thighs with deliberate slowness, eyes locked on mine.

She tilted her head, her lips brushing mine.

“Is this you abusing your powers now?” I muttered, dragging my fingers through her hair.

She smiled against my skin. “Did I beg enough, soldier?”

Her hand slid to my waistband, fingers teasing the line of my abs.

“Or should I show you what begging really sounds like with my mouth wrapped around your cock?”

I grabbed a fistful of her hair, tilting her face up to mine.

“No, mon amour ,” I muttered. “I think you can do a whole lot better than that.”

She laughed.

And then she fucking proved it, with her mouth wrapped around my cock as the sand clung to her knees. And then she climbed on top of me, dragging her soaked body over mine.

My hands tore her bikini top off as she rode me fast, tits bouncing in my face while I sucked and bit them raw.

Fuck .

I swore I could die inside her.

But she wasn’t done with me yet.

When the high shattered, she pulled me into the water, whispering my name as she wrapped her legs around my waist and held on like she’d never let go.

My hands shook, but she steadied me.

Her mouth pressed to mine, her body soft and soaked, her voice a secret against my ear, whispering I love you over and over.

And I realized it wasn’t the sea making my chest burn.

It was her.

It had always been her.

As the days passed, the summer breeze on our faces, we settled into a routine. We’d wake up late, try to cook together but fail miserably, and would end up ordering way too much takeout.

She spent her afternoons painting, writing, and singing whatever poured out of that beautiful, chaotic mind. I trained, and handled the idiots now working under my name at Sawyer Security.

Every couple of days, my mother would drop by for lunch or dinner, armed with stories from my childhood that should’ve stayed buried. She even took Scarlett to the farmer’s market once, calling it a “girls’ day.”

They were gone for hours. I had missed her all fucking day and got so irritable I’d nearly snapped at the delivery guy for forgetting extra napkins.

Evenings slowed everything down. Bonfires. Takeout. Dinner under the stars. The kind of life I used to think would rot me from the inside.

Somehow, I didn’t rot. Somehow, she made it feel like heaven.

One night, we saw a shooting star. My arms were around her, her back resting against my chest, nestled between my legs.