Page 20 of The Sinner’s Desire (The Sinner’s Touch #1)
I was completely off the grid all day yesterday, following a lead on Jonathan’s organization's whereabouts.
I left Blood in charge of watching Lilly, trusting she wouldn’t get herself into trouble. I trust him with my life, and I knew if anything happened, he’d reach out to me immediately.
I told Blood to keep an eye on her, but I didn’t assign a bodyguard.
After what I just learned, that’s going to change.
I didn’t expect her to be out for hours, all the way into the night, with her phone turned off.
Lilly got home around nine last night, according to what I just found out. She didn’t bother to tell her brother where she was going, or explain why the damn phone was off.
I’d barely returned to Boston when I was told about it—and I lost it. Got in the car and drove over four hours straight to the beach house to see her.
I hadn’t planned on coming, even after her teasing invite. Being alone with Lilly at the beach is way too tempting. But the second I heard she vanished off the radar?
My radar?
I went fucking insane.
Furious after what Blood told me, I grabbed my laptop and tracked her phone’s last location. I don’t give a shit if she hates me for invading her privacy. Her safety comes first.
The screen showed she was at a mall not far from my penthouse last night.
Logically, I should’ve just called her at the beach house, asked her where she’d been. But I wasn’t thinking logically.
I was thinking like a man who’s completely unraveling.
Which still feels like an understatement. Tension’s eating away at me. I haven’t had sex since she came to stay with us.
How fucked up is that?
I thought about going out tonight, finding someone to take the edge off, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to touch anyone who wasn’t her. And not being able to have her is turning into a slow kind of torture.
Yes, I’m pissed she went off the grid. But that’s not the only reason I’m here.
I want to see her.
I never thought voyeurism was my thing, but if I can’t touch her, maybe I can at least look.
She said she wanted to have fun. Where? With who? The idea of another man touching her—my forbidden girl—makes me see red. I want to be the one to teach her. To hear her moan for the first time.
After talking to the security team Blood picked to keep eyes on her here at the house, I turn off the engine and drop my head to the steering wheel, bracing myself for what I’m about to walk into.
Every interaction we’ve had so far has been charged with sexual tension. And now, after a long drive, exhausted, high on jealousy, I feel volatile.
I’d like to say it’s just anger. It’s not. It’s anticipation. Every nerve in my body is buzzing.
When I step into the house, the lights are on. I can feel her presence before I even see her.
Lilly is light. She leaves traces of herself in every room she touches.
I expected to find her in the main living room, but instead, heavy rock music is blasting from upstairs.
I check the time. Almost ten. She’s clearly not sleeping. Sounds like she’s throwing a damn party.
I climb the stairs. I check the rooms until I find hers—just two doors down from mine.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I see.
Lilly is standing in the middle of the room, her back to me, wearing nothing but a towel.
I inhale sharply. The sight of her half-naked makes my blood boil.
“Where were you last night?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady—though I already know exactly where she was.
She spins around, clutching her chest, pale as a sheet. “Jesus Christ! Okay, now I know I’m not prone to heart attacks. You nearly killed me, Amos!”
“Answer me, Lilly.” My eyes betray me. I should look away, give her privacy, but I don’t.
She stares at me carefully, but it’s not the towel that’s making her nervous—it’s my tone. “At a bookstore.”
“Alone?”
She lifts her chin. “What’s with the interrogation? I thought I was an adult, not a prisoner.”
I step fully into her space, knowing damn well how stupid that is. “Tell me. Who were you with, Lilly?” I always thought I was immune to jealousy. Apparently not. The idea of her with another man snaps something in me.
She draws in a few shaky breaths, cheeks flushed. “I met a guy. We had dinner.”
A murderous possessiveness fills my chest.
Then she adds, “He’s gay.”
And just like that, the storm quiets inside me. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I was ready to go hunting for an imaginary rival. The adrenaline, the jealousy, the relief—it’s all crashing into me.
I step closer, face inches from hers. “Don’t ever disappear like that again.”
This is when she should back away. But she leans in instead, our skin brushing.
And I go rock hard instantly.
“I didn’t disappear. You’re overreacting.”
Of course I am. But logic doesn’t stand a chance around her. I force myself to step back. “Get dressed. We need to talk.”
She moves toward me again. Closer than she should. I want to look away from her still-damp body—but I can’t. “Why are you so worked up over me, Amos?”
“Get dressed, Lillyana.”
“Why?”
“You shouldn’t be standing in front of me wearing only a towel.”