Page 23 of The Sinner’s Desire (The Sinner’s Touch #1)
“Aren’t you going to dance?” I ask as we step into the club’s lounge.
Of course Amos didn’t want to stay downstairs with the rest of the guests. Sometimes I forget that he and Ethan are best friends—and that doesn’t happen for no reason. The two of them are a lot alike. My brother hates crowds too.
“No. I came here to be your bodyguard.”
I roll my eyes and try not to smile, but it’s hard. Even with that bad-boy scowl, Amos is way too handsome and charming.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to have fun, Lilly? Then dance for me.” His words sound harsh because he’s harsh, but I melt anyway.
“I thought you were going to scold me about my phone dying. One of your guys looked a little crazy when I got in last night.”
“Oh, we’re definitely going to talk about that at some point.” Despite what he says, his eyes don’t look even remotely concerned about the phone incident.
Amos looks at me like I’m something he wants to devour.
And here’s the truth: I’m dying to be devoured.
I silently pray for Martina’s fearless spirit to possess me, but it doesn’t work. So I just close my eyes and let the music take over.
I step away and head to a smaller dance floor, still within the VIP section, but I don’t go far.
When I glance back at him, Amos is sitting on a tall stool beside a table, arms crossed over his broad chest. He looks absolutely focused on me.
I shiver from excitement, but also from embarrassment, trying to convince myself I’m not making a fool of myself. He did say he’s attracted to me.
Come on, Lilly. Dance for him. This might be your only shot.
I look around, trying to see how the other girls are dancing, but when I turn back to face him, I know exactly what I want to do.
I close my eyes and let the rhythm guide me, pretending he’s right here with me. Without even realizing, my hands begin to move over my hips and stomach.
There are people around, but in my fantasy, it’s just the two of us.
I don’t feel like the kid who forced her way into her brother’s house anymore. I feel beautiful. Wanted.
I turn to face the dance floor, so I can’t see him now. Seconds later, I sense a solid wall behind me and feel huge hands replace mine on my hips. He doesn’t let me turn around. Instead, he moves with me—his fortress of a body pressed against mine.
For a moment, I think I must be dreaming. But then I feel him brush my hair aside and lean in.
“Are you trying to drive me crazy, Lilly?”
I tilt my head back toward him. “Is it working?”
“If you weren’t who you are, I would’ve already dragged you out of here.”
“And taken me where? We’re already at your place.”
“Don’t push me. I don’t have that much self-control when it comes to you.”
His lips are just shy of mine, and I moan with anticipation, closing my eyes. When I feel his big hand cupping my face, I know he’s about to kiss me.
But he seems to change his mind and guides me back to the table. Amos sits down and pulls me between his massive legs. Now we’re a little closer in height.
“I wasn’t trying to tease you. I wouldn’t even know how.”
His hand holds my jaw, and his thumb brushes lightly over my lips.
I don’t even think—I just part my lips and bite his finger. I need to taste him somehow.
He pulls me in closer, one arm wrapped around my waist, and whispers in my ear again, “I’m not the right guy to be your first, Lilly.” Then his lips trail down my neck. I’m covered in goosebumps and clutching his forearms.
“You’re assuming too much. First, a kiss. Just a kiss.”
“If I touch you, I won’t stop. You’re like an addiction. I’ll want to taste everything. I’m not some prince in the bedroom. I don’t deserve you, but I can’t let you go. Why can’t I let you go, Lilly?”
I try to stay serious, but inside, I’m too turned on to even think straight. “I don’t even like you. You’re arrogant. But if you kiss me right now, I’ll let you.”
I hear him huff a laugh—and it’s so rare coming from him that I pull back to look.
“You’re even more handsome when you laugh.”
“I don’t laugh.”
“You just did. Because I’m a silly girl with no filter and I annoy you while also making you laugh with my nonsense.”
His face grows serious again. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Like me?”
“Someone who says what they’re thinking without caring about the consequences.”
“I’m freaking out. That’s why I’m rambling. I’ve read a few romance novels, and in none of them does the heroine make the guy laugh when she actually just wants him to kiss her so hard it throws the Earth off its axi—”
“I’m dying to fuck you,” he says, no filter whatsoever, and I’m caught somewhere between offended and a puddle of need, because I’ve just realized this rough, crude side of him makes me soft and needy.
“But I’ll only give you the kiss you’ve never had.
I’m a selfish bastard, and I want to be the first.”
He grabs my chin and leans in, our mouths close enough to brush.
I don’t look away, and I’m sure the image of his face like this—his gaze burning with want—is going to be tattooed on my brain forever.
Even when he drags his tongue across my lower lip, I don’t close my eyes. I just moan, delight spilling over, my thighs pulsing at the center.