“She has betrayed you and The Fellowship. She can never be trusted now. She must die.”
I can’t do it. “I love her. She’s mine. I’ve claimed her.”
“Do you love her enough to die in her place?” I do but killing me wouldn’t save Bleu and it would never satisfy Abram. He’s thirsty for her blood.
“Listen very carefully, Sinclair. Bleu played the part of the perfect woman for you—because it was her job. That’s why she was so easy for you to love, but none of it is real,” Abram says.
I thumb through piles of photos of Bleu and see a woman I don’t know. “Everything was a lie—a figment—right in front of my face, and I didn’t see it.” What does that say about me?
Abram leans back in his chair, his fingers interlaced, hands clasped. “From the heart’s point of view, this must feel like an immense betrayal. But for Bleu, it was just business. She was here doing a job she was hired to do and she was damn good at it. Don’t knock yourself too badly. Think of it as a lesson well learned.”
“I don’t know how to kill the woman I love.”
“Quickly—it’s the only way. Before your heart, or dick, has time to interfere.”
“I’m losing my lass, the only one I’ve ever loved.”
“Your heart is telling you to mourn the loss, but the truth is that your lass was never real. She didn’t exist.” Try convincing my heart of that.
“I understand she made you fall in love her. That’s why I’ll overlook you killing her quickly and painlessly.”
He’s right. Again. But for the life of me, I have no idea how I’ll kill this woman I love so dearly. I can’t imagine a darker sin.
* * *
I’m sitting on the sofa in the pitch-black dark when Bleu comes through the door. “Sin?”
“In here,” I call out.
“I thought the storm might have knocked out the power.” She walks over to the lamp and switches it on. “Why in the world are you sitting in here with the lights off?”
“I’m listening to the rain.”
She notices the drink in my hand. “And you hear it better in the dark while having whisky?”
“Aye, it clears my mind.” I’m relieved she came back. Although her luggage is sitting by the door, I thought she’d figured out I’m on to her and fled. “You weren’t here when I got home.”
“I left a note telling you the zipper on my suitcase was broken.” She walks over to the coffee table and picks it up, showing me. “I had to run out and get a new one before the store closed.”
She comes to me and sits in my lap. Her hand cradles my face. “You don’t seem your usual self. What’s troubling you?”
I have to kill you because you’ve betrayed me—and it’s breaking my heart. “I’m going to miss you terribly, Bonny Bleu.”
She entwines her fingers in the back of my hair. “We have a couple hours. Let me take your mind off it.”
She brings her mouth to mine and kisses me slow but hard. “Mmm … I love when you taste like whisky.” She sucks my bottom lip. “I want you to take me to bed and make love to me.”
Kill her quickly—before my heart or cock has a chance to interfere. That’s what I’m supposed to do, but I can see right now that’s not going to happen. I’m not ready to squeeze the life out of her. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bleu MacAllister
Sin kisses my mouth as we walk until the backs of my legs meet the bed. He goes to his knees and presses his face to my abdomen. “I don’t know how to do this—how to let you go.”
I stroke his hair. “You act like it’s forever. I’ll be back in two weeks—fourteen days—think of it that way.”
He puts his hands beneath my dress and slides them up the back of my thighs. He finds my panties and drags them down my legs. I step out of them and shoes at the same time, kicking both to the side. I pull my dress over my head and toss it to the floor. My bra comes off last and I’m left standing bare and vulnerable before this man—with my heart in my hands, offering it to him.
He presses his lips to my belly and places a kiss there before moving downward. He moves his nose back and forth, dragging it over my smooth groin. “You always smell delicious.”
He places his palm against my stomach and urges me to the bed. I sit back and he pushes my feet up and apart so my heels are flat on the mattress. He loops his arms around my thighs from behind and spreads me wide. He’s done this enough that I know what’s coming, but it doesn’t stop me from jerking when his mouth touches me. It’s still like the first time. “Ohh … Sin.”
I trail my fingers through his hair while his tongue glides up and down my center in a torturously slow rhythm. My body rocks with the motion of his mouth until his tongue switches to a faster, circular movement. The waves of pleasure in my pelvis slow momentarily but return with a vengeance when he adds his fingers, gliding them in and out of me. “Aah …” Everything in my groin buzzes with pleasure. A moment later, the sweet torture begins—the pulsation of contractions, mixing with the warm euphoria spreading throughout my entire body all the way to the tips of my curled toes. Bliss.
Complete and utter ecstasy—that’s what Sin gives me every time we’re together.
He stands and strips while I watch the show from the best seat in the house. When he’s as bare as I am, he crawls over my body until we’re face to face. He traces my bottom lip with his fingertips. He gazes at my eyes, studying them, as though he’s memorizing every fleck of blue and gold.
His body nestles between my legs and he enters me gently. He’s moving slowly, never taking his eyes from mine. I touch his face, cradling his scruffy cheek in my palm. He leans into it and places his hand on top of mine, pressing it harder against his skin. He squeezes his eyes shut, as though he’s savoring my touch. They’re still closed tightly when he tenses and groans, thrusting himself deep inside me. I feel the light quivers of his body inside mine before he goes completely lax over me.
He lies motionless between my legs while remaining inside. I trace my fingernails up and down his back, bringing goosebumps to the surface. I love doing that to him.
“Into me … you see.” He opens his eyes to look at me again and I’m overcome with an emotion I’ve never known. My heart feels as though it might burst from happiness, and I don’t want to contain it any longer. “I love you, Sinclair.”