My Sinful Nights: Book One in the Sinful Men Series

by Blakely, Lauren

  No, he didn’t just kiss me.

  He worshipped me.

  He caressed my breasts with his lips. He nipped my throat with his teeth. He adored my belly with his tongue, working his way across the landscape of my body, marking the territory of me with his lips and his sighs and his groans. As he traveled across me with his mouth, I let the day fall away. I gave myself over to passion.

  My hips shot up, seeking more of him, begging with my body for him to work his magic.

  But it was more than just magic. He was more than just my sweet drug as he consumed me and sent me soaring into a state of ecstatic bliss that had me singing his name to the heavens.

  He untied me, flipped me over, and sank into me. I cried out, louder than I’d ever been, more aroused than I’d ever been, there on my hands and knees in a Motel 6.

  Yes, it was so much more than mere intoxication. Sex with Brent flooded my brain with endorphins, filled my body with pleasure, and freed me from the past.

  This connection, this deep and abiding love, was part of the letting go. As we came together in a mad carnal frenzy, the past crumbled to dust.

  There was no more before.

  It was done. It was over.

  There was only the present, only love, only life. My life with my man, together.

  51

  Brent

  As I lifted my fork for a final bite of scrambled eggs and hash browns at a truck-stop diner an hour outside of Vegas the next morning, my phone rang. It rattled on the table, blinking James’s name across the screen.

  He didn’t usually call when I took the day off. I showed the screen to Shannon. “I hope everything’s okay,” I said to her.

  “Maybe it’s good news?” she suggested.

  “I’m sure he’s calling to tell me I’ll never get a club approved in New York. That Tanner has made sure the whole city will blackball me.”

  I slid my thumb across the screen and answered, “Hey, James.”

  “I’ve got good news.”

  “Do tell,” I said, as a waitress in a starchy pink diner uniform stopped at the table, gesturing to her pot of coffee. I held up my mug for a refill.

  “We’ve got a lead on a red-hot location in New York. A nightclub is closing, and the landlord wants to talk about moving us in. It’s in Soho.”

  “That sounds great,” I said, whispering a thanks to the waitress. “How’d you find something so quickly though?”

  “I didn’t. Your wife did.”

  I blinked. “My wife did?”

  “She sent over some names yesterday.”

  “Did she?” I asked, as a smile spread nice and slow.

  “She did indeed. She said her brother sent her some contacts, so I made a few calls. Looks like we might be able to line something up.”

  “How thoughtful of her,” I said, remembering her offer when she’d first heard there might be trouble in New York. I’d turned her down, but clearly she’d gone ahead anyway.

  I caught Shannon’s gaze as she brought her mug to her lips and drank some coffee. Her eyes were full of mischief. My heart raced. It tripped out of my chest and leaped into Shannon’s hands.

  “She’s a keeper,” James said dryly.

  “She definitely is.”

  When the call ended, I switched sides and moved in next to her on the sky-blue cracked vinyl booth. “Seems like you were up to something,” I said with a smile.

  She shrugged happily. “You’ve done so much for me, it was the least I could do.”

  “And Michael didn’t mind?”

  She shook her head. “He’s happy that I’m happy with you. He wanted to help. I’m just glad that you might be able to find a new location. I hope it’s okay that I did this anyway, even after you said not to.” A nervous quiver shook her voice.

  “It’s more than okay,” I said, reassuring her. “You didn’t have to do that at all. But I’m thrilled you did.”

  “You gave up New York for me, Brent. I wanted to help you achieve your dream,” she said, all soft and vulnerable and so damn lovely.

  “Shan,” I said, cupping her cheeks and moving in for a kiss. “I already have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  * * *

  A few days later, I swung by Shannon’s grandmother’s house, picked up the ring, and took it to the jeweler. A week after that, I returned home one fine summer evening, with a bouquet of sunflowers and a brand new ring for my wife.

  She was already Mrs. Nichols, but I got down on one knee anyway, at the dinner table, and proposed one more time.

  “Shannon Nichols, will you be my wife?”

  She laughed. “I already am.”

  But she held out her hand, and I slid on the diamond solitaire anyway. Then I kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips.

  When we broke the kiss, she said, “I have something for you.”

  “Lucky me.”

  She reached into a bag, wiggled her eyebrows and tugged out a new pink scarf. “It’s just a scarf.”

  I shook my head, smiling. “No. It’s a promise.”

  She nodded, her smile making it clear she never intended it to be just a scarf. “It’s absolutely a promise. That we will always find our way back to each other. Every day,” she said.

  “And every night,” I echoed, then I kissed her again, reminding her of that promise tonight.

  Epilogue

  Brent

  A few weeks later

  The delicious scent of barbecue wafted through the summer air. Ryan manned the grill, flipping burgers and chicken breasts, and turning cobs of corn.

  Music played from an outdoor speaker. A string of red pepper lights hung along the wooden posts of the fence. Her grandparents had insisted on a wedding celebration, and everyone was here—my parents, my brother and his wife and their daughter, Mindy, Ally, Nate and his wife, James and his family, and Shannon’s brothers, of course.

  Everyone who mattered deeply to the bride and groom.

  The first few weeks of marriage had been bliss, and I was confident the next thirty, forty, fifty years would be too.

  And soon we might be expanding. We’d been working hard on that project, though it was hardly work.

  More like nonstop pleasure. In a few more days, she’d take a test and find out if baby would make three.

  Oh, how I wanted that with her.

  I wanted it so damn badly.

  As I took a long swallow from a bottle of beer, my eyes found my wife. She relaxed in an Adirondack chair on the deck, bouncing Carly on her knee and making cooing sounds at my niece while chatting with Julia. The sight of my Mrs. Nichols holding a baby tugged on all my heartstrings, reminding me of a bright possible future.

  I felt a hand on my arm and turned to see Mindy. “Hello, Queen.”

  “Hey there, subject.”

  Then I glanced around, and lowered my voice. “Did you ever find out anything about that guy? The pics I showed you?”

  “Brent,” she chided. “We’re at your wedding celebration.”

  “This is important though.” I’d given Mindy the pictures I’d taken of the guy in the Buick a few weeks ago, and she’d agreed to show them to some of her friends on the force to see if the plates—or as much as I’d captured of them—or the tattoos revealed anything. I couldn’t dismiss the notion in the back of my mind that the ink meant something.

  We hadn’t seen him around since then.

  Or anyone else for that matter.

  Maybe, just maybe, he’d been nobody.

  Mindy set a hand on my arm. “Truth be told, I don’t have anything yet. They’re pretty swamped, and can’t really do license plate checks anymore for privacy reasons. But one of my guys said he’d take a close look and see if the ink looks familiar. I promise to let you know as soon as I hear.”

  I offered her a fist for knocking. “I appreciate you.”

  “You better,” she said with a smile.

  My gaze returned to Shannon as she handed the baby to Julia, then blew me a kiss. I
returned it, and watched as she headed inside the house, her brothers in tow. They’d told me they had a special gift for Shannon, and I suspected they were giving it to her now.

  I lifted my beer and tapped it to Mindy’s. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime. Now, celebrate. Don’t worry about the pictures. Have a great time with everyone here.”

  That sounded like a damn fine plan.

  This was a good life indeed, and it was time to keep moving into the future.

  Epilogue

  Shannon

  As my grandmother refilled a pitcher of iced tea in the kitchen, Michael swooped in behind her and grabbed something from the counter.

  “Told you we’d get you a wedding gift,” he said, holding up a small white box with a silver bow tied daintily on it.

  “I wrapped it,” my grandma chimed in, with a knowing glint in her eyes. “That’s why it looks nice.”

  I reached for the box. “Because these boys don’t know how to wrap gifts. Yet another reason why you all require further domestication.” I took my time giving each of my brothers a steely-eyed yet playful stare.

  “Good luck on that front. Pretty sure I’m not trainable at all,” Ryan said, tucking his thumbs into the belt loops of his shorts.

  I patted him on the cheek. “There, there. Every dog can learn.”

  “All right, funny girl. Open your gift,” Michael said, nodding at the box.

  “You know I don’t need anything, right? I hope you didn’t get me a blender,” I said as I removed the silver bow.

  “The world’s smallest blender,” Colin joked.

  Peering inside, I folded back the tissue paper to uncover a gorgeous platinum bracelet that matched the rose-gold and silver ones I already wore.

  “It’s so pretty,” I said, admiring the simple and elegant design. When I spotted the date engraved in the center, I brought my hand to my heart. “My wedding date.”

  “Look at the inside too. It’s also inscribed,” Michael said, nudging me with his shoulder.

  Turning the slender bracelet on its side, I read the engraved script. To our wonderful sister on her happily ever after. Remember—live with love. “Live with love,” I whispered. Our father’s words. His advice for us. Always.

  A lump rose in my throat, fighting its way up. I clasped a hand over my mouth as a tear slid down my cheek.

  That tear was a declaration. An announcement of our love, our bond, our unbreakableness.

  The Sloans. We were the Sloans. And we’d worked hard to live up to our new name, to honor our father, to be who he believed we could be. I wrapped my arms around my guys in a big group hug.

  “I love you guys. So damn much,” I whispered in our huddle.

  “We love you,” they all said in unison.

  When we pulled apart, I wiped the tears from my cheek and shot them a wild grin. “Hmm. Now who gets to go next? Michael, Ryan, or Colin?” I said, counting off my brothers as my grandmother laughed. “I have a feeling the next one of us to fall in love will be—”

  The doorbell rang.

  Epilogue

  Michael

  The sound of the ding cut off my sister’s love prediction. So very like Shannon. Ready to pair us all off. With her big heart, it was no surprise she wanted to see her brothers fall hard and fast.

  Not to mention soon.

  But it wasn’t going to be me. My heart was given to someone else a long time ago.

  Right now, though, I wasn’t focused on matters of the heart.

  This was a gut moment.

  Because when my grandmother headed to the door, saying, “That’s probably our neighbors. I invited them too,” I set a hand on her arm.

  I had a feeling it wasn’t the neighbors.

  “I’ll get it, Nana,” I told her. She was mine to look out for. This whole family was mine to protect.

  I peered through the peephole, eyes narrowing as I took in the uninvited visitors, then carefully opened the door to the two men.

  They weren’t neighbors.

  My jaw clenched as my gaze traveled up and down, quickly registering who they were.

  One wore a light-blue button-down. The other sported a gray striped shirt. Both wore loosely knotted ties and had badges at their waists.

  Cops only knocked on the door if you were in trouble, or if someone you loved was dead.

  I did a quick inventory of people, even though I already knew the answer—everyone I loved was safe and sound in this house.

  Nearly everyone.

  Still, my pulse spiked as I regarded the officers, because their presence didn’t add up.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen?” I asked.

  I waited as the guy in the button-down cleared his throat. Waited for minutes, it felt, for him to break the unbearable silence.

  Then he spoke. “I’m looking for Victoria Paige. Is she here?”

  My grandmother stepped up next to me, nodded crisply, and held out a hand. “I’m Victoria. What can I do for you?”

  He shook her hand. “I’m Detective John Winston with Metro. This is my partner,” he said, but I barely heard the other man’s name as blood pounded in my ears, and I knew. I knew there was only one reason they could be here.

  “We wanted to let you know as the family of the victim, that in light of new evidence, the investigation into the homicide of Thomas Paige is being reopened.”

  THE END

  Want to know what happens next to the Sloan family, now that the investigation is open again? Find out in Ryan’s love story, told in MY SINFUL DESIRE!

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  Contact

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