I stare at the door helplessly, palms damp with sweat. All the locks are in place but the fact does nothing to calm the unease that rages in my chest.

It's silent for a long moment. Then the doorknob jiggles.

My eyebrows draw together. "What is he—?" Something clicks in the door and I barely have time to throw my back in front of it before it starts to swing open.

"Calliope," his dark rumble slides through the crack as he strains to push open the wood. "Open the goddamn door."

The sound of his voice sends a flurry of emotion through my chest. A mixture of fear and rage wins out as I grit my teeth and dig my heels into the rug. "Go away!"

He mutters out a curse. "I'm trying not to hurt you."

"Concerned for my well-being? How generous of you."

Sin makes a peeved sound in the back of his throat. "Now's your time to back up."

That makes me blink nervously. "What?"

I scramble to gain my footing as the pressure on the other side eases, but any balance I'm able to find is erased as a cracking sound thunders through the wood and sends me flying forward. I flip on my back just as the door pushes open and a very disheveled and furious looking Sinclair glares down at me.

The sight of his face sends a fresh wave of hurt through my chest. Somehow, a tiny thread of relief weasels its way in as well. As much as I hate to admit it, I've felt like a part of me has been missing without his presence.

He takes a step forward and I scramble to scoot backward, hands grabbing for the nearest object—in this case, my dirt-caked black heel.

Sin snorts and leans down to grab my wrist. "Really? A shoe?"

I wait until he's so close I can feel the heat of his body radiate into my legs and then throw the stiletto at his chest. He catches it effortlessly midair, so distracted with scowling at the object that he doesn't notice that my fist has knocked back and begun dissension on his face.

It connects with his nose, pain radiating up my arm as he scrambles back a few steps and clutches a hand to the still-whole but reddened cartilage.

"Christ." He rubs the bridge, looking furious but slightly impressed. "Sometimes I forget what a violent little thing you are."

I grab the other shoe and raise it threateningly. My hand throbs with the beat of my heart and I know without a doubt that my already bruised knuckles will be an unpleasant shade of purple by morning. "Back up a few steps, shithead." My eyes narrow on the open front door before shooting back up to him. "Since when do you know how to pick locks?"

Sin's face stretches into a smile so cold it sends a shiver down my spine. He drops his hand from his face and into his pocket, digging out a small silver key. "I don't."

The shoe falters in my grip as I stare at it. It's then that I notice the splattering of crimson across his forearm and the top of his left thigh. My eyes widen. "Is that blood?"

He shrugs an unconcerned shoulder before shoving the key back into his jeans and taking another step forward. "Not mine."

Jesus. I suppress the shiver that itches to roll down my spine.

"You killed the motel manager?" I think of the small middle-aged man behind the yellowing desk and how his eyes kept wandering down to peek at my cleavage.

"No," he says, but then pauses thoughtfully. "Well, he's probably still alive."

My lips pull into a thin line, eyes instinctively wandering over his lean form. Besides the dirt and crimson covering his clothing and the stray strands of hair escaping his bun, he looks unharmed.

"How'd you find me?" It hadn't taken him long. I'd thought it would take him at least a week before he had any luck.

Sin's lips screw together in a way that tells me I'm really not going to like what's going to come out of his mouth next. "Does it matter?"

I tense. "It does."

He makes a miffed sound. "You're an easy girl to find, angel. I don't know what else to say." His gaze slides down my face and my dirt-covered clothing as if he's just now taking the state of me in. Sin's brow furrows as his eyes catch on my swollen knuckles. "What's that?"

I fight the urge to hide my hand behind my back. "Nothing."

He stiffens. "It sure looks like something to me."

"I mean, I did just punch you in the face."

He frowns at the mention but takes a step forward, ignoring the way I raise the shoe in my grip maliciously. "That's at least a day old."

I've never been good at lying so I just shrug a shoulder and pretend to look perplexed.

I stiffen as he leans down and slowly reaches for my hand. "Don't touch me."

The movement of his body pauses as he glares at me through his thick lashes. "Angel."

"No." That deep, all-consuming sorrow rears its ugly chest inside of me as the memory of the woman on his laps raises to the forefront of my mind. "Not after that. You don't deserve to pretend like you care anymore."

He sighs and it sounds so weary I feel the ache behind it radiate into my bones. "I can explain everything to you later. But for now, I just need to make sure you're okay. To touch you. Please."

The emotion behind his voice makes me pause. Amber's voice echoes in my head, reminding me of what I am to him—what he plans to do once he's fucked all the fun out of my body. But something in the way he's looking at me right now makes the thought sit unsteadily in my head.

I put the shoe down, trying to squash down any hope that rises in my chest out of fear of disappointment. "Why?"

"Why?" he echoes, scrubbing a hand over his face. He doesn't speak for a thoughtful moment, looking so uncharacteristically worn-down that a traitorous sliver of worry clenches in my gut. "I don't know."

I stare at him expectantly.

He sighs. "I care about you." He scowls at the incredulous look on my face. "I know I'm not good at this. I know I'm that last man on this earth you should ever want to be with, but goddamn, I feel so warm with I'm you. Alive. Like I'm touching a live wire. I've never felt anything like it before." Sin's hand raises to his chest and rubs the spot over his heart like it pains him. "When you leave it makes it so much worse."

My pulse beats at my throat. "Makes what worse?"

His brow scrunches with frustration as he struggles for the right words. "It's hard to explain. It's like...emptiness. Nothing matters. I just exist." His eyes catch on the sore patch of skin across my hand like he's barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. "I felt like that for so long before you. Far too long."

The admission makes a new wave of raw emotion stir inside of me. It's so intense that for a few long seconds all I can manage to do is stare at him wordlessly.

"Can I touch you?" he asks again.

I don't trust my voice so I just weakly nod my head.

Sinclair kneels in the space in front of me, placing his hand gently over mine. His brow knits as he takes my palm in his, studying the mottled skin with a displeased expression on his face. I resist the urge to smooth his wrinkled brow as he gently turns my hand over in his and places a gentle kiss in my palm.

"Tell me you'll never do this again," Sin says, the heat of his breath dancing over my skin as his lips press into the sensitive flesh of my wrist. "Promise me you'll never run. Not from me."

"I don't know, Sin." As much as I want to, I don't know how to feel anymore. Don't know what's right. I've never felt more confused and hopeful and relieved in my life. "I wish I could tell you that I won't. But I just don't know."

His eyes flash in a mixture of masculine heat and something deeper. Something so intense that gooseflesh rises on my arms. "Then let me convince you." Sin leans closer, pressing his lips to my collarbone.

A shiver rolls down my body. "You're hard to say no to."

"Mm." His mouth trails up my chest, peppering small kisses up the line of my neck. "I don't know what I'd do if you did." The span of his large palm envelopes my cheek as he pulls back long enough from my skin to press his lips against mine.

The kiss soothes an ache in my chest I didn't even know I had. I sink into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and twining my fingers through the thick hair tied at the back of his neck. As I tangle myself in him, I realize how much his arms feel like home.

His arms scoop underneath my legs and support my back as he hauls my body against his as he rises, kicking the cracked door shut before depositing me onto the mattress. His hands impatiently claw at my clothing in an attempt to quickly wiggle them down.

I laugh, swatting away his hands. "Someone's eager." I pull off my tightly-fitted top, my black jeans, and my undergarments until I lay bare beneath him. In the back of my head, I realize that this is the first time I've ever laid with him completely bare—the first I've ever let him see every scar, every stretch mark, every plush and flawed part of my body.

For a second, I feel so exposed that I reach up to put my hand over his eyes but he quickly pushes my palm away.

"Goddamn," he says as he soaks in every inch of me. His hand runs over the bump of my stomach, the dips of my thighs, the mole between my breasts. Sin takes my hand in his, laying it over where his heart thunders in his chest. "You're so beautiful that it hurts."

My body heats underneath his gaze, my heart falling into the same quick rhythm as his. "I need to feel you."

Sin presses another kiss to my palm before laying it back on my side. "Soon." Without a second of hesitation, he kneels beside the bed and buries his face between my legs.

A gasp rips from my throat as his tongue runs along the seam of my pussy. A line of fire emerges under his fingertips where he smoothes them teasingly along the insides of my thighs.

I groan as he flicks the tip of his tongue over my clit. "Sin."

His mouth curls into a self-satisfied grin against my skin as he does it again, watching my body jolt weakly against him. "Hm?"

He's barely even touched me and already my body is already burning for him to fill the emptiness inside of my cunt. "Fuck me."

Instead of following my demands, he repeats the same action and pushes in two fingers, watching my hips rock wantonly against him. It helps soothe the deep ache inside my stomach a notch but somehow leaves me craving even more.

I guess Sin is right. I am a greedy girl.

"As soon as you cum, angel." His fingers hook and rub that magic spot that makes me twitch and grip the sheets helplessly as I unravel beneath his touch. "I'll be inside of you before you even finish riding it out."

"It's definitely not going to take long if you keep doing that," I gasp as he puts his mouth over the sensitive bundle of nerves and moves his tongue in a way that has obscene noises spilling from my mouth. The wetness of my cunt dribbles down my legs and pools into his palm as he quickens the pace of his arm, the noisy slick of my arousal filling the room.

I slap a hand over my mouth when I remember how thin the walls are, face heating so brightly I feel like I could burst into flames.

Sinclair frowns up at me as I unsuccessfully try to pull away.

"The walls are thinner than paper," I say as I wiggle against him. Last night I listened to an entire conversation of a woman's phone call as I tried to sleep and I didn't even have to strain to make out her words.

Sin lifts his head up just long enough to say, "Good. Let their worthless mortal ears listen to how beautiful your cries are and know it'll be the closest they'll ever be to hearing God," then descends his mouth back upon me.

He plays me like an instrument in his hands. I don't know anything about hearing God as he wrenches desperate cries from my mouth, but I definitely see him as Sinclair brings me to the edge of my orgasm.

Just as he promises, he pulls back as I start to pulse around his fingers, unzips his jeans, and forces his thickness through my tight and still-fluttering walls.

"Jesus." He shuts his eyes, his large hands enveloping my hips as I tremble against him. "I'll never get over that."

My head collapses back into the pillows. "What?" I mumble, my body spent.

Sin is quiet for a moment. I can't see him but I feel his stormy eyes rove over my face, letting me gather myself before he begins ruthlessly wringing pleasure from my body again. "How perfect you feel around me." Without wasting another second, he thrusts into me savagely.

I groan as he ruts into me with a ferocity I know will have my legs weak by morning, his hand reaching down to draw lazy circles over my clit.

The skin is so sensitive that I nearly knock his hand away. Hissing, I raise my head to stare at the roving touch, my gaze catching on the intense look on his face as he watches his cock bob in and out from between my legs.

"Wait," I gasp as a realization dawns on me. "Hold on a second."

It looks like the action pains him but his rhythm seizes.

I smile hesitantly and rifle through the pocket of the abandoned jeans beside me until I pull out one of the condoms I'd stuffed in my clothing from the stash in his drawer. It's one of the purple ones—not that I need a ribbed piece of latex to make me cum, but the knowledge I won't have to worry about a child makes orgasms significantly more pleasurable.

Sin looks displeased but he pulls out of me anyway and rolls it down his heavy cock. He moves to push it inside of me but I stop him again.

"Christ, woman," he says as I tug at his clothing. He looks annoyed but his tone is teasing as I work on pushing his jeans down his thighs. "You're needy."

I roll my eyes and work on tugging his shirt over his head once he's stepped out of his pants. A snarky remark nearly rolls off my tongue but catches at the sight of his gloriously nude body. I lean back, drinking in the sight of his warm tones and the hard panes of muscle.

He's just...wow. Damn.

He laughs and my cheeks heat when I realize the words have fallen out of my mouth.

I suppress a sigh as he leans back over me and starts to press inside of me again. "Pretend like I never said anything. You don't need any more women feeding your massive ego."

His lips twitch at that. "If it makes you feel any better, pretty words don't mean anything to me unless they come from your mouth."

I groan at the heat of his bare skin soaking into mine. It does make me feel better but I don't tell him that.

He pushes into me, pace lazy and unhurried. Sin leans down and captures his lips in mine, pulling me into a kiss so tender that I never want it to end. He nips my bottom lip, tangling his hand in my hair and leaving a deep ache in my gut that has nothing to do with spreading my legs and letting him rut into me.

This isn't fucking anymore. This feels different. Deeper. A place we've never fully wandered into before where pleasure is nearly an afterthought. This is about getting lost in each other and hoping we never find a way out.

Sinclair pulls up for a moment just to lean his body over mine. I press my lips into his neck, wrapping my arms around the broadness of his shoulders. Without a doubt, I know nothing has ever felt more perfect than this in my life.

We stay that way for a while. He pumps into me and memorizes the feeling of my body wrapped around him, whispering sweet encouragements into my ear. His pace quickens a bit, pleasure radiating up my body where the base of his cock rubs against my clitoris.

He pulls back from where he nuzzles the crook of my neck so he can properly look at my face. "God, you're perfect," he pants as his thrusts become desperate.

That hand wanders down to my clitoris again, stroking until I squirm underneath him. I cry out as my orgasm crests for the second time, his hips bucking wildly as he finds his own peak.

Sinclair groans, kissing me one last time before pulling out and collapsing into the bed. I curl my body around him, resting my head against his chest and listening to the frantic beat of his heart.

We lapse into a comfortable albeit silence, basking in each other's presence. Processing whatever just passed between us.

I break the silence by tilting my head up and studying the unearthly beauty of his features. My finger traces along the strong line of his nose and along the top of his cheekbones. The skin looks as unmarred and perfect as that of a doll but I still say, "I'm sorry I punched you in the face."

He laughs. "To be fair, you've done worse."

I frown at that—he's right, but still. When we first met I didn't feel an ounce of guilt as I riddled his body with bullets.

Exhaustion settles over my eyes, making it hard to keep them pried open. Somehow I still find the energy to run my hand over the top of his silky dark strands as he leans his toned body into mine and presses his mouth underneath my ear.

"Angel," he mumbles into my skin.

I curl a black lock around my finger, utterly transfixed with its softness. "Hm?"

So softly I can barely make out the words, he presses a gentle kiss to my earlobe and whispers, "I'm yours."