Chapter 7 #2
Opal made a sound against his mouth—half protest, half surrender—kissing him back with a furious need to erase the memory of the dealer’s hands on her. But that thought only pulsed in her mind for a heartbeat before her own heated desires took over and she threw herself into it.
She wasn’t surprised that he tasted like coffee and sin. What shook her to the core was the heat flaring between them, a wildfire raging out of control and consuming everything in its path.
With a low rumble, he angled his head and claimed her in a hot sweep that made her surge onto her tiptoes, anchoring her arms around his broad shoulders.
A noise grated in his chest, and he broke the kiss, pulling back enough to rest his forehead against hers, breathing like he’d sprinted miles. “I need you to know you’re not alone in this.”
His handsome face swam in her vision. She couldn’t make sense of what just happened. “Why did you kiss me?”
His brows drew downward like two black bolts of lightning. “Because I wanted to. Don’t overthink it.”
Dropping her feet flat on the floor, she inched away from him. He loosened his grip but didn’t let go.
“Those tears—”
“Were human.” His roughened tone felt like a calming stroke over her senses.
“I don’t want to look weak. That’s your job on this op.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and the sight of it knocked what breath she had managed to fill her lungs with right out again.
“Who said we can’t take turns?” he quipped.
She opened her mouth to retaliate. Or maybe to beg him to kiss her again.
“I’m teasing, Opal.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek, right below the scrape.
Feeling the wetness that lingered on her skin, she swiped at her cheeks. God. She really had been crying. After all these years, the sensation was so foreign to her that she didn’t even recognize what was happening.
“I’ve seen this before—your fight-or-flight was triggered. What I haven’t seen before is someone who lives in such a constant hypervigilant state.”
She stilled. “What makes you think I do?”
“Because I watch you. I see you.”
The words hit her just as hard…dammit, harder…than the kiss had.
He inched close enough that her senses reeled from the brush of his body heat. “You didn’t have any trouble getting the upper hand with that dealer, did you?”
She avoided his gaze.
“As your partner, I need to know how much training you have.”
A breath trickled past her lips. “Enough.”
“You’ve encountered that kind of danger before.”
Her chest tightened as memories she’d suppressed for years surfaced. “I…didn’t always live in the best places.”
Her mind flooded with memories of men with rasping voices and violent tempers who wouldn’t just kill her father for turning on them, but kill Opal and her mom too.
She’d never been able to shake the fear of who was after her, and often woke from nightmares of bikers in leather jackets breaking down the motel room door and aiming guns at her.
Witness protection hadn’t alleviated that fear. It just moved her from one bad situation to another where men lurking around the motel were too eager to prey on a young girl.
Thanks to Smith, she’d been able to protect herself, but it left scars on her very bones.
How could she ever explain Smith? There were no words for how the man had taught her that a frightening world could be controlled if she came out on top. Today in that alley, she took control.
The faint scent of shaving cream filled her nose, drawing her to the present. Sinner’s stare burned down into hers, probing far deeper than anyone ever had before.
She started to twist away, but he caught her by the arm and swung her back to him.
Swung her into his arms.
His mouth crushed over hers again, hard and soft at the same time, and good…oh god, so damn good. She swallowed a moan as he teased his tongue against the seam of her lips.
What could come of kissing her partner? This wasn’t their rules of engagement.
As if he heard her thoughts, he dropped his arms. He shook his head once, and the thick lock of hair tumbled across his forehead. “I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”
She balled her fists against the almost irresistible urge to brush that lock away. Because she could do better than Sinner, even when it came to making a move they’d both regret, she closed the gap between them. “Maybe I wanted you to.”
A bad-boy smile quirked the corner of his lips, but vanished in a blink when she knotted his shirt in her hands, went on tiptoe and kissed him again.
She felt his surprise for a half a heartbeat before he found her waist and pulled her flush against him. The low sound he made was a soothing balm and a prick of desire all at once.
Neither of them was gentle as the kiss spiraled to another level. She nipped at his hard bottom lip, making demands that ripped a growl from his throat. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, stroking, taking her whimpers and feeding her deep groans that made her shiver.
His muscles coiled under her hands, and she sagged against him, trusting him to hold her up if her knees gave out.
A long, spiraling minute later, she let her hand slip from the hard mountain of his shoulder to his sculpted chest. The beat of his heart anchored her in a way she didn’t know she needed until now.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “There are things you need to know.”
He slid his hands down her arms to tuck her hands in his callused palms. “I’m listening.”
She drew away enough to see his face. “On the call…I rambled about my mom.”
“You did.” He was a man who didn’t waste words, and she liked that about him.
“I don’t know how much is…safe…to say.” She let a breath trickle out.
“Let’s start with some questions.”
She nodded. That sounded safe enough. After all, she had the choice whether or not to answer them.
“Who taught you to fight?”
“A friend.”
He didn’t let go of her hands. She was always in control, but Sinner’s touch, his presence, made her let down her guard.
“How old were you when you learned?”
“Twelve.”
She felt him suck in air and hold it. Finally, he continued. “Was it formal training, or born out of necessity?”
“Necessity.” She stopped there.
“Did the threat come from one person or a lot of bad situations?”
“Enough situations that I wanted to learn.”
“So it was to protect yourself.” His voice dropped lower, grew gentler. She found herself staring into his eyes—not just brown but all shades of amber and coffee and an earthy hue that drew her deeper.
“Yes,” she breathed out. “But I’m…disappointed in how I reacted in that alley.”
As if her answers were enough to satisfy him, he gave her hands a light squeeze. “You realize you did the unthinkable on our first day?”
She blinked. “You mean getting myself fired from this op?”
“No. You got the drugs.”
“Anybody can do that.”
“Yeah, junkies. Junkies can score drugs on their first try.”
She snorted despite herself, and quickly sobered. “I know you have more questions, Sinner.”
He hesitated for a beat, then pitched his voice into something warm and gentle. “Tell me about your mom.”
Her mind swirled. She wasn’t expecting that question.
“You said you haven’t cried since you lost your mom. Is she dead?”
A lump sat in her throat, heavy and pulsing with each beat of her heart. “Maybe.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“I read your file,” he said quietly.
Her muscles went tight, the urge to yank free almost overwhelming. This was risky. Getting close to anyone meant they could be torn away.
But she didn’t step back. She let him hold her hands. Keeping the connection.
“How much do you know?” she whispered. Her entire past couldn’t be in a file. Her life was so buried she didn’t technically exist.
“Enough to know you were in hiding.”
Oh god.
“I was.”
“And when you got separated from your mom, protocol meant your mom had to destroy her phone.”
Her jaw trembled, and she locked it tight. “Yes.”
Her mom destroyed her phone—and any way for Opal to contact her.
Sinner’s gaze held hers, unrelenting. “What’s the password?”
“What?” The word barely made it past her throat.
“You know. The password you’d give your mom when you meet at the rally point —to let her know your cover’s still intact.”
Oh god. This man knew so much. Too much. More than anybody ever before. Not even Smith knew she was in the Witness Protection program for most of her life.
How the hell did Sinner?
The tight knots loosened inside her, and the words slipped free before she could stop them.
“Orange sherbet.”
His smile was tender and understanding. “The program likes you to choose harmless words no one would suspect. Like pink lemonade.”
She sniffled, tears threatening again. “I like pink lemonade.”
He raised a hand to cup her cheek. Her whole body wanted to lean into him, to let him carry some of the burden that never left her.
He curled around her. “Where was the meetup spot?”
Her gaze drifted from his chiseled jaw to settle on his chest as memories stretched in her mind. Of the short trip to the spot from Quantico, where she ended up after she and her mom were separated.
Opal visited the location too many times, and always walked away in a fog of disappointment and despair.
She swallowed. “The place changed a lot. First it was a corner diner. A quaint old place that Mom took me for a special treat once in a while. I always ordered the orange sherbet cone.” Her voice wavered, and she forced back her emotions.
After battling a lump in her throat, she went on, “After that, it was a fried chicken place. I waited hours for my mom. She never showed.”
Her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall. Not now—not after all these years. “Then it was a tea shop. They had special teas. I got a cup of blueberry lavender, but I barely tasted it because all I wanted was Mom and orange sh-sherbet.”
She gulped, and Sinner knew enough about her not to react. He didn’t offer soft words or stroke his thumb over her cheek, even if he wanted to badly.
“The last time I went to the spot, the building was empty, the business gone. I…never went back.” Her throat constricted until she felt she might strangle. “It doesn’t matter.”
Sinner didn’t offer her empty reassurances—didn’t say it did matter, or that she was fine, or that her mother had found peace.
Opal tipped her head back to meet his gaze. She liked his eyes. His smirks and his rare smiles. She liked the way he smelled, way more than she probably should.
But more than all of that…she was grateful that he knew when silence was better than words.
For that, Opal liked him most of all.