The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity Book 2) (25 page)

“You’re right,” he said without a hint of anger or irritation in his voice. “Why does anyone step closer to the things they find beautiful, knowing it may damage what they saw from afar?”

“I’m standing pretty close to you, and it’s definitely not damaging what I saw from afar. It’s better.”

“Keaton,” he said breathlessly with a chortle. “I’d like to fit my head through the door when I leave.”

“I think I’m overcompensating because you said, or inferred, that you don’t hear compliments often. Or maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m just saying it because it’s true. God…Braedan.” He was quickly becoming an eroding agent to what little bit of self-control I had when he was around. Desire was once something foreign to me. Before, I only wanted to experience the feeling of pleasure, but with him…I wanted more.

 He bit into the corner of his smirk and his eyes became laced with a blinding amount of sensuality. “My reasons are deeper beyond simple curiosity or to share our experiences,” he answered my earlier question. “Are you going to tell me that, even now, the connection isn’t shared?”

Continuously rubbing the lingering burn at the back of my neck, I shook my head. “I would’ve expected you…would be here in one of your signature suits.”
Not that I’m at all complaining.
I perused over his body again and moved involuntarily closer.

His chin tilted down. “That was my mistake. Obviously, my invitation was mixed up with a stripper’s uniform requirements.”

I snorted in laughter and as I did, I couldn’t help but try to restrain it. 

“It’s been a long time since you’ve laughed like that, hasn’t it?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Give it time,” he promised. “Things will get better for you.” He pushed the cake toward me. “Make a wish.”

Nodding, I took my time in closing my eyes. I could hear the shifting of his feet as he neared me. I startled and stepped backward.

“Don’t move and keep your eyes closed.”

The power he suddenly imposed over me made me easily comply. As I rounded my lips, preparing to blow, a heat flittered down my nose. The scent of menthol suffused my senses. Surprising myself, my lips parted in response. The warmth moved away and was instead replaced by the sweet smell of coconut and caramel. “Open your mouth.”

His words immediately shut me down. Visions of being on my knees, forced to open my mouth and perform seeped into my mind. 

Too scared to open my eyes and see the scene before me, since it had been replaced with a scene from my living nightmare, I jammed my eyes tightly closed. “I can’t…” I pursed my quivering lips together to prevent from falling apart at the seams. 

He took my hand from beneath the plate, leaving it to balance on my palm. He dipped two of my fingers into the soft spongy layer and forced them to curl and spoon out a portion. He lifted my hand up. Gooseflesh rushed up my arm. 

Wet. Warm. His mouth surrounded my fingers and immediately made me shiver. His tongue licked the crease in my fingers and circled the tips. Feeling light-headed, I swayed left to right.

He slipped my hands slowly down his supple lips. The tender swell of his mouth and the prickly brush of the stubble on his hard, sharp jawline met my fingertips. “Open your mouth again.”

Trepidatiously, I opened my mouth. The cool metal of the fork pressed past my lips and the explosion of tastes from the moist rum cake melted in my mouth. There was no other way to describe the taste other than heavenly. “So good,” I moaned.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he warned, catching onto my need to retract my eyelids a little. “It will become sweeter.” 

I opened my mouth for a little more. Softness brushed against my mouth, making my lips close. My mind screamed at me to run. But my chaotically beating heart pined for more. Fingertips brushed up against my lips. Hands cradled my jaw. His fingers pushed at the corners of my mouth, forcing it to come apart. 

His mouth hovered over mine, breathing me in and luring me closer to him. He caressed the dip in my top lip, methodically moving his lips downward. Cradling the swell of my bottom lip, he sucked it gently. Barely pressing against one another, our lips met. The erratic pace of our breaths intermingled. A sizzle of desire wrapped me up in its unbearable longing. Starving for more, I opened my mouth wider, inviting him to stop his tease.

The tickle of his tongue toyed with the tip of mine. His lips firmed in their caress. The sharpness of his teeth dipped into my bottom lip, pulling my lips farther apart.  

His kiss cured my fear; it was the equivalent of a welcome embrace on a blistery, cold night. I could only recall one kiss that felt remarkably the same—fell short to Braedan’s expert mouth. It was once the only time I would count that a man had ever been gentle with me. Making me feel wanted, loved, and beautiful. 

His firm secure grip grabbed the back of my head. He pressed his lips firmly against mine, pulling my bottom lip between his and forced it to open. The tip of his tongue teased the swell of my bottom lip before he pressed his open mouth to mine. His tongue slid inside, circling the tip of my tongue. It thrust deeper, penetrating with gentle urgings, undulating between my tongue and the roof of my mouth.

The shocking euphoria weakened me completely. 

My knees buckled. 

My body swayed. 

My limbs began to tremble. 

I nearly dropped the cake. 

Through a gasp, his name slipped from my lips, vibrating across his mouth. He pulled me closer, kissing me deeper and abruptly stopped when the fever reached an uncomfortable level. I panted, aching for more. 

“It’s midnight,” his smooth voice rolled across my lips with tingling waves. “Allow me to be the first to say happy birthday, Keaton.” 

The air turned cooler. I opened my eyes to a blown out extinguished sparkler and Braedan no longer standing in front of me. Fully conscious that the room was a little darker than I’d like, and I was alone while the party was winding down, I held onto the cake, having every intention to bring it home with me, and made my way back to the living room.

AFTER RETURNING HOME AND preparing for bed, I received a text from Braedan:

Please let me know that you made it home safely.

The thought of his kiss never left my mind. I could still feel it on my lips. Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered and it sent a throbbing pulse down my spine. I typed a message in return:

Your words are curing.

Your kisses made love to my mouth. 

I can’t imagine what it would feel to have you be with me. 

Inside me.

The message shocked me. Once repulsed by intimacy, I realized I’d never really experienced it. Having tasted it, felt it, and falling for its vow of unending trips to bliss, I wanted it. I wanted it with
him
. 

Shaking my head at the inappropriateness, I tried to delete the message, my trembling finger slipped and instead pressed send. 

Panicking, I dropped my phone on the mattress. 

It rang almost immediately with Braedan’s name displayed across the screen. I picked up the phone gingerly and tried to sound causal in my greeting, “Hey. I made it home safely, and I’m going to turn in.”

“And before you do…you’re going to repeat what you typed in the message.”

“I can’t.” My voice was involuntarily small and quiet. “I really shouldn’t have sent that to you in the first place. With everything that I’ve been through, I’m not sure if I’m ready. I’m sorry I—”

“Keaton,” he warned, his voice holding a commanding authority that stripped away my attempts to remain coy.

Slowly and awkwardly, I said the words. 

The line went silent for too long to bring me comfort. “Are you there?”

“Sleep well tonight,” he purred into the phone and ended the call.

Exhausted from a difficult day at F.A.C.E., I exhaled and held tightly to my glass of water while I watched my mother’s friends and associates mingle inside my parents’ home. Walking through the house, while exchanging small talk with a few people along the way, I made my way to the kitchen to take a pain pill and drool over my birthday cake—a red velvet sheet cake that could’ve doubled as a wedding cake. My phone buzzed the instant I placed it down on the counter, alerting me to a call from Brandy.

“I’m sorry, Brandy,” I apologized, knowing what she wanted. I couldn’t slip out on the party my mother had thrown for me. “I can’t make it to your sex party.”

“Oh, no you don’t! I know not a single person there is your friend. I bet your mother only invited her associates, coworkers, and investors. The party here is actually being held in your honor. Sonja’s on board. Hell, she’s letting me have it at her house. Come on. It will be fun. You can watch if you don’t want to engage, but I don’t know why you wouldn’t. There are condoms and hot underwear models galore.

I clasped my hand to my forehead and shook my head. “It wouldn’t be a good place to be seen with my mother in the middle of campaigning.”

“There are Senators here, and I think the governor is here, too. Everyone is hidden under masks. I can’t see them, but I know their voices and they couldn’t fool me. Just don’t talk and you’ll be completely incognito.”

“Brandy, I can’t.” For more reasons than I could exemplify to her. Being in the midst of people engaging in various sexual activities would remind me of the place I was trying to escape from—the place where I seemed mentally stuck.

“What if I told you Braedan is here, and it looks as though he’s going to leave because I might’ve forgotten to let Veronica tell him what was going on at the party?”

My curiosity won over my need to stay in and fall into my bed shortly after my mother’s party for me wound down. While his kiss had long left my lips, every time I thought about it, my lips would burn with an insatiable heat. I would remember things I never would’ve fawned over a man like I did with Braedan; he made it feel natural and comfortable. He’d tripped a trigger, and I couldn’t stop it from firing every time his name crossed another’s lips or the thought of him filled my mind. 

I’d experienced an awakening. It was becoming more consuming. He had quickly become a thrilling and enticing addiction.

My caution wasn’t exactly nonexistent. Questions still remained: What did he have to gain by helping my mother’s campaign, and furthermore, why were so many people in my circle adamant about us connecting with one another? 

The most important truth threatened to silence my paranoia. Being with Braedan made me feel as though the weight tying me to Rebirth and the horrors inflicted could be removed. If they were, I’d finally be able to move on.

ASSORTED MASKS WERE AT the door of Sonja’s home. I quickly picked one and placed it on before I was seen by anyone. 

Within minutes, a woman met me at the door dressed in vampy, burlesque-inspired lingerie. “You aren’t dressed for the occasion.”

“Brandy?” I squinted at her from underneath my mask. “I didn’t recognize you.”

She pointed to the mask, being tongue-in-cheek. 

“Right.” The noise of sex, moans, and flesh slapping against flesh were an undertone to the haunting downtempo music. Hugging myself, I stepped backward. “Where’s Sonja?”