Read Online Ruined (A Barnes Brothers novel) by Shiloh Walker - Free Book Online Page A

misery he had caused.
    She sniffed again and drawn in by the slump of her shoulders, he came up behind her. She’d scooped her hair up, exposing the elegant curve of her neck, the vulnerable nape.
    “I’m sorry, Marin,” he murmured.
    She went to duck away and he brought his arms up, caging her in by the counter. She tensed.
    The scent of her was getting to him and he told himself he needed to listen to her—get some food in him, some water, take a shower . . .
sober up
—instead, he dropped his head down on her shoulder. The nearness of her already had him rock hard and all the months of celibacy began to whisper like demons in his ear.
    But when she sighed and turned around, he didn’t do anything.
    This was Marin and she’d made it clear she didn’t want him.
    “It’s okay, Sebastien.” She reached up and touched his cheek. Her thumb slid over the scar.
    He caught her wrist, ready to tug her hand away—he’d take her touch anyway he could get it, but not there.
    Except Marin wasn’t easily deterred, a fact he’d learned all too well over the past year. “You need to stop drowning your demons in alcohol and you’ve got to stop chasing them down yourself. They do a good enough job finding you on their own.”
    With his thumb pressed against the inside of her wrist, he searched for something to say in response.
    “I don’t—” But he had to stop, because he wasn’t sure she was wrong. He’d thought he was
running
from them, but they always caught up to him when the nights were quiet. Back when he’d been drinking them away, they’d be there waiting when the fog of alcohol cleared. Now, at night, when he lay awake, they were just . . . there.
    Too often, he’d drift to sleep only to jerk awake in a panic, thinking he was back on that sidewalk again, staring down Hanson while time slowed to a crawl as they grappled for the knife.
    “You don’t what?” Marin stared at him challengingly.
    “I killed a man. And it was all for nothing, because I didn’t save
her
,” he said hoarsely. “And now . . . hell, Marin. Look at me. I’m
nothing
now. And do you see how they talk about her?
What did she do
?”
    He threw out his arms as he said, his voice scathing, “How did Monica push that fabulous artist over the edge? Where did
she
go wrong? They blame her!” he shouted.
    “And . . .” His voice hitched. “Sometimes I do, too. Because if she hadn’t left
me
 . . . Fuck. If she hadn’t left me, she’d be alive. And I wouldn’t have killed him. I wouldn’t know what it was like to have blood on my hands. Sometimes, I wish
he
had been the one to win that fight.”
    “No.”
The urgency in her voice was echoed in her eyes and Marin leaned in. She was a tall woman and in the shoes she wore, she was almost level with him.
    If he hadn’t been so drunk, he might have realized what she was going to do and he could have pulled back, because it was something that would snap his fragile control.
    But if he hadn’t been so drunk, none of this would have happened to begin with.
    Marin’s hand slid to the back of his neck and she tugged him closer. At the same time, she pressed her lips to his, speaking softly.
“No,”
she said again. “Don’t you
ever
say that.”
    The second her mouth touched his, Sebastien’s thoughts faded . . . stopped . . . died.
    Say what?
    Her mouth was on his.
    Marin
was kissing him.
    It wasn’t in front of a camera.
    It wasn’t for a publicity shoot.
    She was kissing him.
    It was one of those friendly little pecks—the kind one friend might give another.
It will be okay . . .
That’s all the kiss meant and he knew it.
    At least, that’s all it meant to her.
    But for him . . .
    In the span of a second, it seemed a million thoughts rolled through his mind. He wanted to grab her, pull her against him, and deepen the kiss.
    He wanted to take her to the floor, spread her thighs, and come inside her—although he’d need to get her naked