Page 190 of Safe Word

Like the aftermath of a betrayal he hadn’t expected to bleed.

He knew exactly what had gone down.

And worse – he felt it.

Had I miscalculated?

Was Vinnie truly that invested that this, of all things, felt like disloyalty?

He didn’t look back at me. Just turned and followed after the reporter, his retreat as clean and cold as a knife surrendering its edge back to the sheath.

I glanced over my shoulder. Cain stood at the bathroom threshold – cheeks flushed a soft, guilty pink, lips stained red, hair tousled from my fingers. A picture of perfect chaos.

And I didn’t know whether to take a step into the hallway – or fall straight back into him.

He crossed the suite’s living room in several slow, agonising strides. His head dipped – but he missed my mouth, grazing the corner instead just as I angled up, drunk on the scent of him. Musky. Undone. Mine.

And then he licked from the hollow of my throat all the way to the edge of my jaw, with a finishing bite to my chin – not cruel, but not gentle either.

We never did gentle.

He exhaled against my lips. ‘Time to go, little angel.’

I must have closed my eyes at some point, because they fluttered opened in that moment. Sunlight slashed through the curtains, catching the fire in his eyes.

‘The sooner we wrap up here,’ he murmured darkly, ‘the sooner I get to bite you again.’

Reluctant, I left him there.

Stepping into the lift with Vinnie and Genevieve, I reminded my lungs to work.

The descent was drowned in the quiet. Polished chrome reflected our forms, but no one met my eyes.

The walk to the restaurant was worse. Vinnie didn’t so much as glance my way, even as he pulled out both chairs with the ingrained grace that usually made women blush. But tonight, it felt cold. Mechanical.

‘Actually,’ Genevieve frowned, glancing over her shoulder as if suddenly remembering something. ‘I need the ladies’ room.’

Vinnie gestured loosely in the right direction, then sank into his own chair. He leaned forward with elbows to the table, one fist pressed into the other, lips resting on the ridge of his knuckles.

As though it were the only thing stopping him from spitting words he’d regret.

He stared at me. Unblinking.

I knew what was going through his mind. I remembered what I had told him in my flat a few days ago.

The silence thickened until it felt like smoke in my throat.

I couldn’t take it any more.

‘It’s not you, Vinnie,’ I said softly, offering a smile that tried to smooth over the wreckage, and nearly wincing at the cliché.

His brow twitched. His breath dragged in. ‘Not my business.’

It was a poor deflection.

The way his voice cracked? Hurt, dressed in professionalism.

The scent of saltwater and pine announced Cain’s arrival before his body slid into the seat beside mine.