Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
SINCLAIR
T he entire room is filled with white roses. They’re literally everywhere. Vases of them on top of the dressers, the nightstands, the little desk below the window that looks out over the backyard. There are pink rose petals strewn across my bed and when I look down, I realize there’s a path of red rose petals that leads from the door to my bed. Their pungent scent fills the space and I take a deep breath, savoring it.
I was gone for maybe thirty minutes tops and August arrived back at the house not even ten minutes ago, maybe a little longer. When did he have time to do this? Because clearly this was put together by August.
Hopefully.
I move through the room, guilt filling me over my running shoes crushing the delicate petals and I come to a stop, taking off my shoes and tossing them aside. I scan the room, looking for a note, a clue, a sign that August actually did this but I see nothing.
“Do you like it? ”
Screeching, I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of that familiar deep voice coming from behind me. I turn to find August standing in the open doorway of the connecting bathroom, leaning against the doorsill. He’s got a nonchalant air about him, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets, a casual expression on his face. As if he hadn’t a care in the world.
In this moment, he reminds me of his father. His stance, the even expression. He looks like he doesn’t care but I wonder if I said a certain something, would he spring into action? Not that I know what to say…
“You did this?” I glance over at the bed before returning my gaze to his. “You went to a lot of effort.”
“I told you I would,” he drawls, still not moving.
“Are you trying to prove something to me?” I swallow hard, my body trembling. It’s risky, asking him that question. I’m not trying to be rude. I just want to know where I stand with him. Where we stand with each other.
“Didn’t I essentially tell you that last night?” He pushes away from the doorframe, taking a few steps toward me before he stops. “You’re either being purposely clueless or you don’t want to be with me. Tell me what it is, Sin. Put me out of my misery.”
A shuddery breath leaves me. “I need to hear the words, August.”
He frowns, his brows drawing together like they always do. “Hear what words?”
“That you care, that you hate me, that you like me okay. That you’re in love with me and want a future with me and you can’t live without me. That you want me gone, banished from your life like I never existed. Whatever it is, however you’re feeling, I need to hear it. The words. I need them.” I press my lips together, afraid I took things too far. I don’t like feeling unsure. On edge. And I’ve experienced that feeling ever since August and I reconnected a couple of months ago .
I want to know how he feels, and I want to be brave enough to tell him how I feel too. This conversation needs to happen if we’re going to move forward.
“You need words?” When I barely nod my answer, he goes on. “I can give you all the pretty words you need, my Sin. I care about you. I used to hate you and then eventually, I liked you okay. I’m fairly certain I’m in love with you and I want and see a future with you, and I know for a goddamn fact I can’t live without you. I could never want you gone, banished from my life because life wouldn’t be worth living without you in it. If you never existed? Then I’d never know.” He rests his hand against his heart, clutching his fingers into a fist. “But there would be a hole in my heart because you weren’t here. Don’t you realize that you’re mine?”
I blink, all of those earlier uncertain emotions that swirled in my brain disappearing at his declarations. He’s right. He’s so right. I feel the same exact way. “You’re in love with me?”
He actually rolls his eyes, the infuriating man. “That’s the one thing you’re sticking on? Sinclair, I told you I can’t live without you. That’s a pretty fucking bold statement.”
“Do you even know what love is? How it’s supposed to feel?” My throat aches with my words. How raw and exposed I am in this moment. “Because I don’t. I’ve never been in love before.”
“Are you confused? Overwhelmed? Scared?”
I nod, locking my knees when he takes a few steps closer. I can smell him now. His delicious spicy cologne wrapping all around me. The warmth of his body radiates, drawing me in and now I’m the one taking a step. Then another. “All of those things. Is that normal? I’m worried it’s not.”
“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “But I feel the same exact way. We can figure this out together as we go. I just know one thing.”
He goes quiet and my body sways toward his. When he grabs hold of me and hauls me into his arms, I breathe a sigh of relief, circling my arms around his neck. Clinging to him, waiting to hear what he might say next.
“You were never not mine, Sinclair Miller. You belong to me. You always have. Even when you hated me. You were mine.” He dips his head, his mouth landing on mine in a soft yet passionate kiss. His tongue is everywhere, searching my mouth, and I end it before we take it too far.
Though it doesn’t take much for us to go too far. I can feel his erection press against my stomach and my thighs are trembling.
“I love you too,” I tell him, my voice shaky. “I just needed to hear the words. Any words. I didn’t know how you felt.”
“This wasn’t a big enough indicator?” He waves a hand at the rose-filled room, his gaze locking with mine. “Bringing you to my home so you can meet my family? You couldn’t tell how I felt?”
“I just…” My voice drifts. “I think I need words along with actions. And you’ve always confused me, August. Sometimes you say too much but most of the time, you say nothing at all.”
“I’ll remember that.” He kisses me again like he can’t get enough of me, walking me backward until my calves are bumping against the edge of the mattress. “Now let me show you.”
I press my hand on his chest, my palm resting upon the thundering beat of his heart. “We don’t have time.”
He’s scowling. Oh this man is rarely denied anything he wants and that’s what I just did. “What do you mean, we don’t have time? I can fuck you and make that pretty little cunt come in less than five.”
My body shakes at his words and I mentally tell myself to calm down. “My parents will be here soon.”
“What time?”
“I don’t know but…tonight’s dinner is important. ”
“And this moment where we confess our feelings isn’t?” He arches a brow, practically daring me to deny it.
Which I can’t.
“This moment is important too,” I agree, my voice soft. “I’m just—nervous.”
“With me?” He sounds incredulous and I suppose I don’t blame him. We’ve done some crazy stuff. Filthy dirty things that make me blush when I think about those moments for any length of time.
“No, of course not. I’m nervous about tonight’s dinner, and what my parents might say or do. They’re kind of embarrassing.”
“If you’re worried about what they do and how it might reflect on you, please don’t.” His mouth is on mine again, lingering. Lips parted as he breathes me in. “They could show up naked and grunting like savages and I wouldn’t give a shit. I only care about you.”
“What about your parents though? I’m worried what they’ll think of them.” I tilt my head back when he shifts away from my mouth and rains kisses along the edge of my jaw. Down my neck. His lips are damp and warm and when he pauses to lick the spot just behind my ear, I know I’m going to let him do whatever he wants to me.
“They’ll have an opinion about you and they’ll form their own opinions about your parents. You are not one and the same.” His hand slides up my side, lingering at my waist before he shifts higher, cupping my breast. “Stop talking, Sin. You’re making me impatient with all of your protesting.”
Our mouths collide and I melt into him, letting him take over. Doing my best to forget about my worries and just live in this moment. With him. He guides me onto the bed and I land in the center of it, rose petals fluttering all around me with my bounce. Their fragrant scent is everywhere, almost overwhelming and he removes a petal from his lips before he positions himself above me, his mouth back on mine.
We kiss and kiss for what feels like hours, his hands wandering, settling on my waist, like he wants to keep things chaste between us. Or maybe he doesn’t want to rush it. Is instead savoring me and the thought leaves me warm and gooey inside.
I circle my leg around his hips, hooking and drawing him in and his pelvis presses against mine, his hard dick right where I want it. We have too much clothing on and I’m the one who grows impatient first, which is always his role. I’m tugging on his sweater, grunting in frustration when it doesn’t budge. I move my hands to the front of his jeans, shaky fingers trying to undo the front and he wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me.
“Why are you in such a rush?”
“I told you we don’t have much time.” I try to tug out of his grip but he won’t let me.
“Your parents aren’t going to be here for hours.” He runs his tongue along my jaw. “Patience, my pretty Sin. No need to rush things.”
His deep voice has me melting and I sink into the mattress, welcoming his weight on top of me. His hands roam, sliding my sweatshirt up and off. Tugging at my leggings impatiently, making me giggle. I have no bra on and no panties and he seems pleased to find me bare and naked beneath my clothing, his gaze glowing with reverence.
“You’re fucking stunning.” His large hands cup my breasts, testing their weight, his thumbs teasing my nipples. “And all mine.”
The pride in his voice bleeds into the words and my body grows warm. I am his.
“You’ve always been mine. Since that first day I saw you at Lancaster Prep, when you were scared and awkward and fumbling around, something tugged deep inside of me. I saw you. Despite how awful I treated you, I knew it, but I was in denial.” He lifts his head, his beautiful blue eyes meeting mine. “You belonged to me.”
I’m breathless at his words. The gleam in his gaze. There’s a part of me that believes he’s just saying all of this to make me feel better. But there’s also that other tiny part buried inside of me that says he’s right.
I knew it too. We belonged to each other.
Ducking his head, he leaves a trail of wet kisses across my chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth while I yank impatiently at the neck of his sweater. Eventually he pulls away, getting rid of the sweater in seconds, and when I feel the press of his warm, hard skin against mine, I moan. Soon his jeans are gone too and we’re a tangle of limbs and hands and fingers. Mouths and tongues and teeth. I can’t get enough of him and he acts the same way, his hands and mouth greedy. His fingers slip between my thighs and stroke me, the wet sounds filling the room.
“Always so ready for me,” he murmurs against my lips. “My greedy little Sin.”
“You make me greedy.” I tilt my head back and arch my hips, sucking in a breath when he trails his mouth down the length of my body.
“I hope the door is fucking locked,” he mutters against my stomach at one point and I can’t help but laugh.
“Probably not.” What would happen if someone walked in at this very moment?
I can’t even worry about it. I’m too caught up.
Within seconds, he slides inside me, filling me up, and I hold him close for a moment, both of us still. The connection is real. Binding. And when he lifts away, I open my eyes to find he’s watching me, his fingers carefully brushing the stray hairs away from my face .
“You need the words?” he asks.
I nod. “I do.”
“You belong to me.” He leans in, his mouth settling on mine. “And no one else.”
So possessive , I think as he begins to move. But he’s not wrong. I am his.
And he’s mine.