Gentleman Sinner(39)

He stands a few feet before me, his hands in his pockets, his blue eyes regarding me carefully. ‘I’ll be leaving early in the morning,’ he says quietly, almost regretfully. ‘So you can get back to your girlie holiday.’

I nod acceptingly, though on the inside I can feel a void forming. ‘Okay.’

‘Call me,’ he says, though I don’t mistake it as a polite request. I will be desperate to see him by the time I get home, anyway. As feared, he has a physical hold now, and I don’t want him to let me go. I want to dive at him, bury myself in his huge chest and throw my arms around his neck, but I know I can’t do that without invitation. And like he’s read my mind, he removes his hands from his pockets and opens his arms to me. The magnetic force of him pulls me straight into his embrace without a moment’s hesitation.

‘Thank you for . . . dinner.’ I frown into his shoulder as I stand on tippy-toes to get my arms around his neck, feeling him smile against my ear.

‘Thank you for bending to my will,’ he counters playfully, and I smile, too, lost in the comfort of his tight hug, his massive body completely blanketing mine. ‘Have fun, sweetheart.’ He taps my bottom, and I reluctantly pull free of him, losing the warmth the second we’re no longer touching. I don’t want to jump the gun, but I’m pretty sure Theo’s behaviour and the way he’s looking at me are signs of the despondency I’m feeling myself. I honestly don’t want him to go.

‘I’ll call you.’ I pivot on my heels and jog towards the escalators, not wanting to prolong the challenge of leaving him. I’m ripping the bandage off instead of peeling it away slowly. I take a cheeky peek over my shoulder just as I reach the top of the escalators, finding he’s at the bottom still, watching me go. I smile and lift my hand and give him a small wave, and Theo mirrors it. Then Callum appears, coming to stand a few feet away from Theo. And I realize, he’s probably been in the background the whole time.

I give Theo one last smile before turning away, taking a deep breath, and stepping off the escalator, reminding myself why I’m here. I find Jess at the bar with Kyle, though Denny is nowhere in sight. ‘Hey,’ I say, jumping on to a stool next to them.

‘Izzy!’ Jess sings, waving the barman over. ‘Oh my God, what happened?’

‘Too much to go into now.’ I laugh.

‘Cosmopolitan, please,’ Jess says to the barman before giving me her undivided attention again. ‘Tell. Now.’

I look at Kyle, wary, and he laughs, indicating over his shoulder. ‘I need the men’s room.’

I smile, grateful for the privacy, though I doubt he’ll be gone long enough for me to explain everything. ‘Thanks,’ I say as he wanders off, leaving me at the mercy of my friend’s raging curiosity. ‘Shit, Jess,’ I breathe, slumping over the bar.

‘Here, drink.’ She pushes a glass over to me, and I accept appreciatively, taking a long swig. ‘Holy shit, Izzy,’ Jess blurts, and I look out the corner of my eye to her, my glass still at my lips. I find her staring at my wrist, and I look down, cringing, knowing what I’m going to see. Red marks. Not too angry, but obvious. ‘What the hell?’ She throws a horrified look at me.

‘He . . .’ I stall, wondering if I should share the reasons for Theo tying me up.

‘He tied you up?’ she asks, moving in closer, hungry for the dirt.

I nod and swig more. ‘Arms and legs.’

‘Eeeek!’ she squeals. ‘And you liked it?’

I can see the hope in her. The desperation for me to have had sex for healthy reasons, which is really quite laughable given how I just had sex. But the truth is, I loved every moment. Even the teasing, torturing tactics Theo adopted. The pain that faded into pleasure. ‘It was pretty mind-blowing,’ I whisper, and she smiles, so bright.

‘Did you find out more about him?’

I contemplate that for a moment. He didn’t exactly tell me much, though I feel like I know him a lot better after a filthy fucking session. ‘He’s thirty-one.’ I start with the simplest piece of information.

‘What does he do for a living?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You didn’t ask?’

‘No.’ I turn towards the bar. ‘We didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff.’

‘Then what?’

‘He’s picked up on the fact that I’ve run from something.’

‘Did you tell him?’

‘No. Just like he didn’t tell me why he doesn’t like being touched.’

Jess’s forehead creases in question. ‘He doesn’t like being touched?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. He needs controlled environments. He says he’s hyperaware of me. Of my movements, more so than anyone else’s.’

‘Wow,’ she breathes. ‘Does he have a phobia? Maybe sensitive skin or something?’

I shake my head, thinking hard. ‘He can touch me. He can touch anything. But nothing can touch him. But whenever I asked him about it, he closed up. Or countered with a question I really didn’t want to answer.’

‘So you’re both broken.’ She winces, her face apologetic. ‘I didn’t mean it like it sounded.’