SINFULLY YOURS

Chapter 64: Chapter 64. Desperate Plea

Chapter 64. Desperate Plea

His footsteps back up the stairs were slow and steady, taking them three at a time as if trying to buy time, as if trying to delay. But the invisible string connecting the two of them was there—he could feel it like a live wire pulsing, needing, dragging him closer and closer no matter how much he tried to pull back.

He stood at the center of the stairs, staring down into the darkness. If only there was a way to cut the string once and for all, raw and severed, and just end this.

Then he squared his shoulders. The image of the blurry figure he had seen back on the road rushed into his mind—that eerie feeling he got just by noticing that dark blur of movement phasing through cars. It hadn’t left him. It forced his consciousness to register a sudden, dark, intense presence—one he was definitely going to be familiar with no matter where he went or what timeline he appeared in.

He ground his teeth together. I really hope he’s not the one, he thought to himself, his eyelids twitching. He closed his eyes and breathed out a slow, heavy breath. God help me, if he’s the one, it’s definitely going to start again, and I can’t just do this anymore.

He pressed his palms firmly against his face. Did I make a mistake coming back? I probably should have stayed out of her life forever. That would have been the best option, right?

He brought his hands down, but the truth hit him immediately.

I can’t imagine staying far away from her.

He shook his head quickly. ”What are you doing, Don?” he told himself, thumping his palm against his forehead. ”You are a professor in charge of an institute, and she is just your niece. You’re not supposed to be having anything to do with her. Establish yourself correctly, you fool.”

He climbed up the rest of the staircase, his clogs brushing against the cold marble tiles. Once he reached the top, his steps slowed down. He walked until he finally got to her door, where something made him stop.

He frowned, tilting his head to look at the wood with a raised eyebrow. He wondered what she would be doing inside, what she would be thinking. Goodness me, she’s probably going to be embarrassed as hell.

The image of her flushed face filled with embarrassment brought a faint smile to the corner of his lips. He choked back a soft laugh and shook his head once again. What the hell am I going to do with you?

A sudden heat flooded his veins. He lifted his right hand, extending it toward the doorknob. Then he froze. He stared at the brass handle with a deep frown, his fingers trembling in the air.

Don?????

He swallowed hard and quickly withdrew his hand. He shook his head violently to clear his mind. Distract yourself, he thought. Do something else. Play something.

Then he smiled, snapping his fingers. ”That sounds great. The music room.”

He walked faster than ever, heading straight toward the studio room.

When he finally got there, he swung the door open and stepped inside, pushing it closed behind him but not completely snapping it shut. Ignoring the slight crack left open to the hallway, he stood at the center of the studio with his hands resting against his waist.

The memory of her talents and the undeniable gift she had in music flooded back to his mind.

”No,” he muttered instantly, shaking his head. Anything related to her is off your memory for now, Don. Focus.

He walked over toward the grand piano, sat down on the bench, and placed his fingers against the polished keys. His hands froze for a fraction of a minute.

It’s been a long time since I have played, he thought, but obviously, the gift can never leave.

He played the first note and closed his eyes as a sudden memory flashed in his mind. Biting down hard against his bottom lip, he allowed the musical recollection to flood through his veins straight to his fingertips. His hands moved on their own volition, fingers spreading across the keys to play a sweet melody that instantly echoed all over the entire building.

He hummed along to the tune, a small smile expanding on his lips as he angled his head backward with his eyes closed, letting the rhythm completely flood his senses.

Rosa, on the other hand, was lying down in bed, burying her face against her pillow with her hair tangled in between her fingers. For over an agonizingly long twenty minutes, it had been increasingly hard to get the image and the experience of those past few moments out of her mind. He had literally taken her breath away. God, her mind wouldn’t let it go no matter how much she tried.

A lot of things had already happened. A lot of things had gone down. Don had finally crossed that boundary. He had spread her legs open, pressed himself upon her, and made her feel things she never thought she was ever going to feel—especially not from her fucking uncle.

And he had made her crave it. He had made her moan.

”What the fuck... aaargh!”

The overwhelming frustration and embarrassment made her pound her fist furiously against the pillow. The lingering sensation simply wouldn’t leave her. She could still feel the deep ache in between her legs. She could still feel her nipples taut, begging for more, the friction of them against the fabric of her clothing making her skin burn.

She shook her head quickly and spun around, finally lying on the bed on her back and staring blankly up at the ceiling. The feeling wouldn’t leave her—the way he had pressed himself up against her, hugged her so tightly, kissed her cheeks, and kissed her neck, trailing his tongue slowly up toward her breasts. The way she had tried to fight it but failed completely, totally overwhelmed by the heavy sensation he was inflicting on her.

Her lips hung open; her eyelids fluttered. It’s over, she thought to herself. It’s freaking over. I cannot unfeel that. I can’t brush him out of my mind. What the hell is he then? He can definitely no longer be just my uncle. What is he? My forbidden relative? My sexy, overwhelming partner?

The wild thoughts flashed through her mind, forcing her to groan out loud and turn around again, burying her face back against the soft pillow.

AAAAAAAARGH!!!!!

All of a sudden, the melody instantly flooded the building, spilling straight into her room at a sharp, increasing tempo.

Rosa flinched. The sound hit her overwhelmingly, piercing straight into her gut. Subconsciously, she blinked slowly and lifted her face up from the pillow with a deep frown, her hair falling in rough, messy strands all over her face.

Okay, what the fuck? she thought. Why the hell do I feel that way just listening to the beginning of that song? Is he in the studio?

She turned around on the mattress and stared at the bedroom door. Then she sat up quickly, folding her legs and wrapping her arms tight around them, hugging her legs toward her chest.

She listened deeply to the melody drifting down the corridor. It was so warm, overwhelmingly sweet, and so heartfelt. Something pulled sharp in her chest; her heart lurched, and her breathing suddenly became heavy.

She frowned intensely as she held her legs tighter against her body. What the hell?

Her breathing became frantic, her chest heaving as a certain heaviness she didn’t expect began to develop in her center. Why the hell does this music sound so familiar?

She shook her head quickly. Oh my God, Rosa, she thought. A lot of things are going wrong with your life right now. You can’t even pinpoint the middle from the beginning and the end.

She shook her head and crashed back down against the bed, pulling the duvet up to cover herself. But the tempo of the melody became increasingly loud, as if it was playing purpose just to reach her. She felt something calling to her, pulling at her through the notes echoing in the air.

She shook her head again, her breathing becoming insistently heavy. It felt like the oxygen in the room had suddenly evaporated, leaving her hyperventilating under the sheets.

Oh my God, what the fuck?

She couldn’t lie down anymore. She sat up once again, frantically brushing her fingers through her hair in pure frustration. Then, all of a sudden, her eyelids began to get wet, and her vision turned blurry. Tears slipped out of her eyes—not of her own volition.

She froze when she felt a wet drop fall down onto her leg. She lifted her hand toward her face and wiped the strand of tears that had already dropped down her cheek. She stared at the liquid glistening on her fingertip.

What the fuck? she thought. What the hell is this?

She blinked rapidly, but the tears just didn’t seem to stop. It all seemed tuned to that exact melody she was hearing. The more it played, the louder it became, and the more the intense, powerful ache in her chest increased. The more it echoed, the more she wanted to cry. She couldn’t help it; her lips trembled uncontrollably.

What is going on? she thought in sheer panic.

She stared fixedly at the door. It was like the song was calling out to her, pleading with her, begging her to come.

Rosa swallowed hard. Then, all of a sudden, she pulled herself down from the bed. I can’t ignore it anymore, she thought.

She rushed toward the door, unlocked it, and swung it wide open.