Sinful Hands: (Lucas & Chanel #1)

by T. L Smith

  I follow Joey through a living room area and into a large kitchen. A woman wearing an apron reaches for something in the fridge with her back to us. Her eyes light up when she turns, then they darken as her gaze lands on Joey with who I’m guessing is her daughter. Or maybe she’s the maid? I scrunch my eyebrows together not knowing what to do or say.

  “How does she always know when you’re here?” Her soft voice whines as she shakes her head. “And who is your friend?” she asks, nodding to me.

  “This is Chanel. Keir hired her for you.” Surprise lines her face as she lifts her eyebrows. She removes the apron, steps out from behind the kitchen counter, and walks toward me. It’s then I see she’s heavily pregnant.

  “Hi, Chanel. I’m Sailor.” She holds out her hand with a smile, and I shake it.

  “It’s nice to meet you. You have a beautiful home.”

  Her cheeks pinken and she nods. “Yes, I do. It’s a little more than I’m used to. But it’s nice, right?”

  It’s better than nice…it’s beautiful, exquisite, a dream, really. But I don’t share those thoughts. I simply nod instead.

  “Joey mentioned you need my help,” I say.

  “Yes, sooo much. I’m a little flustered if I’m being honest. This pregnancy is kicking my ass more so than my last. I’m tired all day, but there is Wren to contend with and she needs a lot of attention.” She looks over her shoulder to where Wren sits on the couch with Joey. “I have people I could ask like her grandmother, but they already do so much for us. So figured if I could get someone to help me around here, that would be amazing.” She pauses. “I mean…if you’d like to. I know the boys don’t know how to ask, so I just want to make sure you are here willingly.”

  “I would love to,” I tell her honestly.

  11

  Lucas

  Joey texted me what time Chanel would be done, so I am sitting out front, waiting. When that time has come and gone and there is no sign of her, I walk up to the door and knock. I hear the laughter before the door is opened by a very pregnant Sailor.

  “You still smell as beautiful as ever,” I tell her. She is one of the only women, apart from my own mother, that I can stand to be around for long periods. She blushes but lets me in.

  “It’s good to see you again, Lucas. It’s been a while.” It has. The last time I saw her was at their wedding. Keir prefers it if I don’t come around. “Are you here to take Chanel home?” she asks, glancing back over her shoulder. I spot Chanel seated on the sofa, her legs tucked under her as she watches something on the television.

  “Yes.”

  “Come in. We’re having cake first.”

  “I don’t want cake,” I tell her.

  “Lucky for you, I didn’t ask if you want some.” She winks and walks away. Chanel turns around when she hears us, her eyes narrowing at the sight of me before she looks away.

  “Should I come tomorrow at the same time?” Chanel asks as Sailor sits down.

  “Yes, please, that would be amazing,” Sailor replies, picking up her plate and eating her cake. They both look at me as I stand there.

  “You can leave. I can find my own way home.” Her eyes don’t find mine.

  “That’s not going to happen,” I respond, my eyes boring into her back.

  Wren starts to cry and Chanel gets up. “I’ll go see if she’s okay.”

  Sailor nods, clearly relieved.

  Chanel brushes by me, careful not to touch me as she goes. I watch her every movement as she walks up the stairs and out of my view.

  “Why are you watching her like that?” Sailor asks, bringing my attention back to her.

  “Like what?”

  “I think you know.” I do, but I’m not going to voice it. “She’s different, that one. Maybe not quite what you’re used to?”

  “And what would I be used to exactly, Sailor?”

  “Women who are either afraid of you or will do anything you ask.”

  “You did neither, and you don’t see me falling at your feet.”

  “But you already knew who I belonged to. And no matter how much of a badass you pretend to be, we both know you love Keir.”

  Chanel reappears. “She’s asleep, just wanted her night light on,” she relays, coming to a stop next to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Thanks again.”

  “Of course. See you then.”

  Chanel grabs her cell and puts it in her back pocket before she walks straight past me to the door without saying a word. When she gets outside, she walks past my car and keeps going.

  “Chanel,” I warn, but she doesn’t stop. “There are a lot of crazies out there.” This time she does turn around, but she keeps on walking backward as she speaks.

  “You are the crazy, Lucas,” she says, then spins on her heel and continues down the sidewalk.

  Chanel caught a train and then a bus. I watch as the bus lets her off in front of her apartment. She spots me straight away and shakes her head but doesn’t stop. I follow her up the stairs until we arrive at her door. She goes to unlock it but pauses and turns to me.

  “I don’t want to see or be near you. What do you not understand about that?” she asks wearily her shoulders sagging.

  “I once slit a woman’s throat,” I tell her, pausing. “I had fucked her, and as soon as it was over, she tried to get things from me. Information. I knew what she was doing, but you see, she smelled so good, so how could I resist?” Her eyes are on me, listening to every word intently. “That’s when the rumors started. I’m not going to lie, I like it rough. A good choking never killed no one.” I start to laugh. “Well, apart from that one time.” I brush it off, but her eyes go wide. “So, you see, I’m not all that bad. I don’t kill every woman I take to bed, and I would very much like to have my fill of you.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Chanel shakes her head. “Despite your words…how very touching they are about how you slit the throat of a woman after you fucked her…I don’t plan to let you touch me, let alone fuck me.”

  “You might love it. I can make you love it.” I step closer, to smell her.

  “Consensual sex is a thing in my world. Even if it’s paid for, it’s still consensual. With you, it wouldn’t be.” She stays still, but her nipples harden.

  “Why, because I tied you to a bed? You deserved it for being a smartass. You needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “Oh, fuck me.” She rolls her eyes. “Do you really hear yourself? How fucked-up that sounds coming from your mouth?”

  “I’ve never had an issue getting a woman before,” I state. “Until you.”

  “I feel like that’s your issue, not mine. Now goodnight, Lucas.” She unlocks the door, steps inside, and goes to shut it, but I stop it with my foot.

  “I’ll be here tomorrow morning to take you to Keir’s.”

  “No, please don’t be. You’ll only be wasting your time.” She manages to shut the door and slams it in my face. I hear the click of a lock and huff a laugh. As if that will stop me, but I think she knows that already.

  I show up the next morning, and she isn’t there.

  12

  Chanel

  “Do you have plans this weekend?” Sailor asks as I fold a basket of clothes. I’ve been here all week and have managed to miss Lucas at every turn, and I’m thankful for that.

  “No,” I answer, glancing over at her. She has Wren on her lap while she eats an apple.

  “You obviously know what they do.” I don’t reply, but I don’t think she expects me to. “Would you be willing to come away with us this weekend? I’ll pay you double.” I hesitate. “Lucas doesn’t attend anymore, unless he has to.”

  “What is it?”

  “The boys usually meet up once a month at Keir’s vacation home and they talk and drink. I’m usually bored and would love the company and help. Lucas hasn’t come to the last two, so I doubt he’ll come to this one.”

  “Can I check that my brother will be okay without me?” I ask, picking up the e
mpty basket.

  “Of course. He’s welcome as well if you want him to come.”

  “No,” I reply, a little too sternly, and she nods as if she gets it.

  Walking out, I stop short when I almost run into Keir. I give him a nod and sidestep him as I continue down the hall. He’s never home before I leave. This is the first time I’ve seen him since I’ve been here.

  When I return, I hear them talking and am hesitant to walk back into the room, but then Wren calls my name so I do. Both sets of eyes fall to me as I reach for her. She giggles as I pick her up, and I turn to face them. “I’ll just put her to bed.”

  “Thank you, Chanel,” Sailor says and stands, giving kisses to Wren before I take to her room. When we get there, she crawls right into her single bed. Her room is amazing; it’s full of pink unicorns and clouds hanging from the ceiling. The kind of room I dreamt of having as a kid.

  “Kisses,” Wren hums, making a grabby motion with her hand. I lean down and kiss her cheek and wish her goodnight before I turn on her night light and leave. I adore that little girl.

  As I descend the stairs, I hear them speaking.

  “Chanel.” Keir’s voice is strong as he calls my name. I find them sitting in the living room next to each other. “My wife mentioned she asked you to come away with us this weekend.”

  I nod, and Sailor gives me a soft smile from next to her husband.

  “I don’t need to tell you that no matter what you hear or see this weekend, you do not speak of it.”

  “Yes, of course. I would never.”

  “Good.” He nods and helps his wife up from the couch. “And have you disclosed to her what your previous job was?” Sailor is now standing next to him and looks confused as her gaze bounces between us.

  “I haven’t.”

  “It’s best you do.” Wren calls out for Keir, and he nods before he makes his way up the stairs to go to her.

  “You don’t have to tell me what you did, it’s not like you were a prostitute or anything.” She half laughs, but when I stay silent her eyes go wide. “Well, umm, okay, I really didn’t think that one through now, did I?”

  “If it’s an issue…” I let it hang and look toward the door, already making peace with the fact that I’ll be right back to doing that job again by the look on her face.

  “No, no, of course not. I guess I’m just shocked. You just look so…” she pauses, trying to find the right word “… normal.”

  “Most of us are,” I answer, not knowing how to take that comment.

  “Sorry, that was rude of me. I mean, I’ve seen the boys hire prostitutes, and you just don’t seem to fit what I’ve seen, is all.”

  “Will it be an issue?”

  “Of course not. Though, I do wish you’d told me so I didn’t sound like a fool just then.” She laughs, and I feel relief flooding through me. “I don’t judge what you did. Gosh, if I judged, I wouldn’t be married to that man upstairs now, would I?” She lets out another laugh, and I guess she’s right on that count. It would take a lot to be married to a mafia boss. “Anyway, did you speak to your brother? I’m happy for you to text me if that’s easier.”

  I pull my cell out and see Merci has messaged back—I checked with her, not my brother.

  “Yep. Should I be ready by a specific time tomorrow?” I ask her. “Or do you want to give me the address and I can find my way there?”

  “Oh, no. No, we’ll pick you up. Joey knows where you live.”

  “Thanks again, Sailor.” I grab my purse hanging on the rack and leave, but just as I reach the stairs, the door opens and Keir steps out until he’s standing right in front of me.

  “I hired you to piss him off,” he states. Well, okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “But you’ve become helpful to Sailor. So, if he gives you shit, let me know.” He retreats back up the stairs. “Be ready at six,” he barks at me before shutting the door. I leave, walking out the front door at his words.

  “Hello, sugar.” I spin around to find Lucas sitting in the dark at the front of Keir and Sailor’s house. He looks up the stairs where I stand and places his hands in his pockets. “Trains are down.”

  “I’ll walk.”

  “Get in my car.” Without waiting for my response, he strides back to his car with the air of certainty that I’ll listen to him, pissing me off even more. It’s been nice not seeing him, but did I really expect that to last long?

  I hesitate, because it’s a long way to walk. And the bus doesn’t reach my neighborhood from here.

  “If you touch me, or fucking smell me, I will hit you in the face this time,” I warn.

  “So violent.” He tsks. “Are you sure you aren’t made for me?” He holds open the passenger door of his car for me to get in. I slide onto the leather seat, and he closes the door before making his way around to the driver’s side. Glancing back to the brownstone I just came out of, Keir is watching us. “Are you hungry?” I swing my head to face him.

  “I’m not eating with you. I haven’t forgotten what you did.” I pull my bag tighter in my lap to cover the reaction my body seems to have being around him, his smell effects me as well. Maybe not the same, but somehow it does.

  “I promise not to tie you to a bed again unless you ask me.”

  I scoff. “That will never happen.”

  “Oh, I think it will.” He keeps driving, not sparing me a glance to see my reaction, which is one of awe and frustration at his persistence. “Now, food. What do you feel like?”

  “Home,” I answer him. “My bed.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “Fuck, no.” I scrunch my face up at his words while shaking my head. Goddammit, this man does not get the hint!

  “You want to fuck instead? Because all I got out of that sentence was ‘fuck.’”

  “Eat a dick and die,” I seethe.

  “I hope you don’t speak like this to my cousin’s kid.”

  “No, my extra foul mouth is solely and unequivocally reserved for you, which you seem to excel at provoking.” I smile mockingly.

  “I aim to please.” He smiles right back, but his is way too sincere, then pulls up to a fast-food drive-thru and places his order. He looks at me and raises a brow.

  “Nuggets,” I tell him with a sigh. He orders me a meal, and once we have it, he stops in the parking lot to hand me my food.

  “I won’t apologize,” he states. I stare at his mouth as it wraps around his burger, and he takes a bite.

  Why the fuck is that sexy?

  And why can I imagine so clearly those lips biting me?

  “Okay.” I didn’t expect him to apologize, so why would that surprise me.

  “I did what was necessary.”

  “Tying me to a bed was necessary?” I ask, baffled at his words.

  “At the time it was.”

  “You’re fucked-up.”

  “So you keep telling me. But here you are, in my car with the food I bought you.”

  “I can throw the food out and walk if that’s what you want?” I question, holding the food in my hand, winding down the window, ready to do just that.

  “No, I’m just pointing it out. You see me as a monster who’s going to corrupt your brother, who, might I add, came to me. But here you are….” He pauses, lifts his drink for a sip, then smirks. “I can’t be that bad now, can I?” I hate that I feel odly comfortable around him.

  “My standards are low, as you can tell.” I grab a chicken nugget and put it in my mouth. His eyes are transfixed on me as I bite. It’s not sexy, but the way he’s staring me down, it’s making me feel like it’s an incredibly sexual act for him. I look away, not wanting his gaze on me a second longer, even though I know he won’t look away because he has absolutely no shame whatsoever. “Do you even care that you killed Chase?” I ask.

  It’s been playing on my mind.

  Repeatedly, over and over again, I watch him die in front of me.

  Chase was married, and now…he’s dead.

  �
��Not a fucking regret.” He smiles and reaches for one of my nuggets before throwing it into his mouth.

  “He was married,” I state.

  “And his wife is living happily and well off now that her cheating husband isn’t around anymore.”

  “Oh, that’s funny. How you use the word cheating as if it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is.” His eyes bore into me. “It’s low.”

  “And killing someone isn’t?”

  “No. Life comes and goes. One day my life will end, then yours, and so on. It’s a natural progression. Sticking your dick into someone while you’re committed to someone else is nasty, and they should be buried if they don’t have the balls to leave that relationship beforehand.”

  “Most of my clients come to me because they want things they’re too afraid to ask their wives for,” I tell him, and his jaw clenches at my words. “And I let them. I let them fuck me into next Sunday. I let them tie me down.” I add that last part for his benefit.

  His teeth are grinding against each other as he listens to my words.

  “Does that make you mad, knowing how I fucked those men? How I fucked Chase?” I almost whisper. Let’s face it, he can’t kill Chase because he’s already dead so I use him as an example.

  “If you want to give me the names of those you’ve fucked, I’d be happy to put them out of their misery.” He turns away from me, starts the car, and drives off.

  “You can’t just go around killing people.”

  “And why not?” he asks. His hands—strong, sexy hands—clench the wheel and he side-eyes me for a moment. “Do you plan to stop me?”

  “I won’t tell you any of them, and you won’t find them either.” I smile.

  “I have my ways.” He slows down as he gets to my street. When he pulls up at my apartment building, he looks up to my window where the lights are on. Brody doesn’t sleep with the lights off, so I know he’s home.

  “Invite me up?” he asks.

  I cough. “Are you asking now?” The shock is now evident on my face by my wide eyes and slightly open mouth.