Page 51 of Sinners Reunion

Now we’re left with a far more dangerous emotion between us: desire.

It was the third passenger for all these miles. I still haven’t felt release, and my balls ache. The girl never loses her hunger, no matter how many orgasms I feed her, and the constant need weighs heavy on her as well.

“If you hung me from a rope by my neck, do you think you could get me off before I strangled to death?” she asks as we drive past a few ranch hands raising hay bales into a barn loft.

See what I mean? No matter what’s happening around her, the woman’s brain digs out the innuendo.

“As fun as that sounds, I don’t think it’s anything we should try.”

“Lame,” she mutters. “I bet Blayne would do it.”

My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “What will it take to get that inbred pig farmer out of your head, hmm?”

“First, that’s a harmful stereotype about southerners. They aren’t all pig farmers. Second, you were the one who always preached about no strings, no commitments, and no problems. I’m merely enjoying the freedom you taught me to enjoy.” She scoffs and crosses her arms. “Look who’s begging for strings now.”

“Maybe ‘no strings’ isn’t exactly right,” I say with a shrug. “We had rules of engagement then. We didn’t chase others. We sought pleasure amongst ourselves.”

“Until someone went out for milk and never came back.”

“It wasn’t because of another woman,” I whisper.

She’s quiet for a beat, and then she says, “Fine. Let’s stick to the old rules, then.”

I nearly slam on the brakes, both figurative and literal. What she’s suggesting is terrible. And wonderful. And impossible. The rules we made before were meant to protect both of us, and they failed in horrific ways. They protected no one. She wants us to run ourselves through this machine again?

“What?” she says, sensing that my heels are digging in. “We’re already doing it anyway. You don’t try to kiss me. I let you handle my needs. And I haven’t tried to kill myself.”

“Is that still a concern?” I ask.

“When you have a brain like mine, I don’t think the concern ever really goes away. But I feel safe. As much as I hate to admit it, the killing and lack of inhibitions help.” She peers out the window, and her smile falls. “Yeah, no strings is fine by me.”

Why don’t I believe her?

I shake my head and pull the RV into the field behind the large farmhouse. “Josie, nothing has changed. I can’t stay with you. Once this ends . . . I don’t know what will happen.”

“Exactly. You could decide you want to tie me down, and then I get my big moment where I say fuck you and break your heart.” She sighs and looks at me, a faux plea in her eyes. “Don’t take this away from me, King.”

A single laugh springs out of me. “The day I crumble when you walk away will be a cold day in hell, I assure you. You were the one who pined for a man who never pretended he planned to stay. And now you want to repeat history?”

“I’m not in love with you anymore. I’m over you. So I like to fuck you. So what? It doesn’t mean I’ll crumble when you walk away. I didn’t then, despite what you believe.”

Ouch. Those words sting a part of my heart I didn’t realize still beat.

Now I almost want to prove her wrong.

“Okay, let’s make a bet, then. We’ll keep fucking”—I pin her with a look—“exclusively, and at the end of the trip, we’ll say our goodbyes. But if one of us falls in love at any point, that’s the end. They lose the bet, and they agree to give the other person whatever they want.”

She squints out at the grass and trees. “We need to define what sort of love we’re talking about. I mean, I have love for you⁠—”

“Right,” I say. “I feel the same. But the sort of love I mean⁠—”

“Right,” she says. “It’s different.”

“Right.”

A knock on my door startles me, and we table the discussion for the time being. At least, that’s what I think we’re doing, but her hand rushes toward me.

“Shake on it.”