Gentleman Sinner(81)

I flip the lock and stand back, waiting for the inevitable banging as I try to catch a breath. But there’s no bang. Theo walks right on in, the force of his shoulder making the lock ping off in surrender, with no scream of protest. His heaving frame fills the doorway as I move back. I’m not scared. Not of him and his threatening, hulking presence. I’m scared that I’m going to be forced into sharing something I don’t want to share. And I’m scared that he’ll drop me like filth if he knows.

‘You said you would tell me.’ He grinds the words out, pointing an accusing finger at me.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Izzy, just tell me.’ His entire torso expands with his deep breath of patience. ‘Otherwise, I’m left imagining all kinds of shit, and I don’t like any of it.’

And that’s just one more reason to keep my mouth shut. So I shake my head.

‘Damn it, Izzy!’ He marches towards me and seizes my arms, and I cower, my chin dropping to my chest, hiding my building tears. ‘Tell me what the fuck happened to you before I lose my fucking mind.’ He gives me a small shake, further emphasizing his frustration.

I can’t help it – tears fall from my eyes, landing in big splashes on the bathroom floor. I’m angry I’m crying. Angry I’m giving my emotions to that scumbag. I’m angry he’s affecting me like this.

Theo moves his hands to my neck and tilts my head back, forcing me to face him. His angry cobalt eyes take me in, softening by the second. ‘Shit,’ he curses, yanking me into him and giving me a bone-crushing cuddle. The sanctuary and comfort of his big chest overwhelms me, and all I can do is cling to him. Hold him. Remind myself that I have him. My feet leave the floor and my legs curl around his waist, searching for more security. I feel untouchable in his embrace. I fear nothing, except for how deeply Theo is penetrating my heart, working his way soul-deep into me.

But most of all, I fear how much I like him there. And how much I need him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he murmurs into the soft, sensitive space beneath my earlobe. I cling tighter in response, constricting the muscles in my arms and legs. He drops to his knees, holding me in place, and starts to pull his face from the crook of my neck, kissing his way over my ear and on to my cheek. ‘I won’t force you.’ Finding my lips, he kisses me reverently, fisting my hair possessively but gently. His shoulders are locked in my arms, keeping him as close as possible to me as I meet his tongue.

And we stay there, on the bathroom floor, lost in each other for several minutes, kissing, holding and calming each other. It’s peaceful, all stress and anxiety being gradually chased away.

‘Look at me,’ he orders, moving a fingertip to my chin and breaking our kiss. When he has my eyes, he smiles sadly. It’s a smile of defeat. It’s a sad smile of realization, because he knows I’m never going to share my burden with him. ‘I care too much about you,’ he affirms, leaning in and kissing my cheek. ‘I just want to keep you safe. And it kills me when you’re upset. But I won’t push you if you don’t want me to. I can forget my needs if it’s what you need. Anything for you, Izzy. Am I making myself clear? You come first.’

I nod, grateful and relieved, so needing to hear him say that. He’s got a hold of his rage. He’s realized what’s important, and my past is not.

Theo stands, lifting me with him, and carries us to his bed. I only release him when he collects my arms from behind his neck, and I do it begrudgingly. I sit against the headboard as he settles on his knees before me. ‘Let me show you something,’ he says, pulling his T-shirt up over his head. The large piece of protective gauze virtually covers his entire pec, and it is one big pec.

I watch as he picks at the corner of the tape and starts to pull it away, revealing reddened skin, slick with greasy jelly. Then the scroll of letters begin to reveal themselves, from right to left, so I’m forced to read it backward. I tilt my head, sinking my teeth into my lip.

By the time Theo has peeled the bandage away entirely, I’m transfixed by what is before me, elegantly scrolled across his pec. I read it again and again, my fingertips resting on my lips, like they might prevent me from breathing out my surprise. Of course, they don’t, and I release a loud, shaky breath. ‘Theo . . .’ I trail off, unable to find any words beyond his name.

He moves forward on his knees and takes my hand from my mouth, placing it on his chest. My touch slips across his slick skin and over the grey letters. ‘Read it to me,’ he whispers, encouraging me to feel, holding my wrist in place as my fingers dance across the lengths of script. ‘Read it to me, Izzy.’

I look up at him through my lashes, stunned by what he’s done. ‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Why did you do this?’

‘Just read it.’

I look back down to his chest, my hand now covering part of the text, and flex my fingers until he allows me to remove my touch. And I read to myself:



My love for her holds me prisoner.

Her faith leaves me in awe.

Her hope encourages mine.

And her touch reaches my soul.

She is my peace.

My cure.

My love.



I flick my eyes up to his face as I try to push back the growing lump. ‘What is this?’

‘Read it to me. I want to hear you read it.’