Sinful Hands: (Lucas & Chanel #1)

by T. L Smith

  Piper then pulls out her gun and smirks as she aims at Lucas. “Asshole.” Then she shoots.

  Everyone’s heads drop to the table, and Lucas is shot as well.

  “Stop involving yourself in my shit,” Lucas growls at her.

  Not wasting one second, I spin on my heel and hurry out of there. Everyone is still at the table, apart from Sailor who has seems to have escaped with Wren.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I don’t stop until I get to the door.

  But his hand reaches out and grips my arm before I can grasp the handle.

  “Let. Me. Go,” I say succinctly.

  He has his cell in his hand, and his eyes are locked on mine. “You think you can just leave?”

  I pull my arm free. “I don’t think, I fucking am.”

  “It’s taking a lot in me to not hit you over the head right now and knock you out.”

  My mouth opens and shuts at his words.

  “You are one fucked-up bastard.”

  “I am. But you knew that before you spread your legs for me. Twice.” I gaze down at his arm, the one that was holding me, to see it’s bleeding and the blood is dripping onto the floor.

  “That was a mistake. One I don’t plan to make again.” I walk out the door and just when I think I’m clear, his arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me to him.

  “I’ll be seeing you, mio per sempre.”

  “Let me go.” I struggle to get free, but somehow even injured he holds me to him. His hand skates along my belly and down between my legs. He grips my pussy, and what makes me so mad is that, despite him being a fucking psycho, my body reacts to his damn touch.

  I can’t be attracted to this.

  I don’t want to be attracted to this.

  Why can’t I be attracted to a normal man—one who would treat me right and not shoot people?

  But then a small voice in my head whispers, Because that’s safe, and you only think you want safe, when really you want him.

  I try to tell the voice that it’s wrong.

  It has to be wrong.

  Right?

  Who could even fall for someone like Lucas?

  Does that mean there’s something wrong with those people?

  To love someone like him.

  Not that I love him.

  Because I clearly do not.

  But the way he makes me feel when he touches me, that can’t be right.

  It’s not right.

  “I can feel your heart beating out of your chest,” Lucas whispers into my skin, his hand moving from my stomach to between my breasts. “Why, oh why, does my close proximity make you feel like that? And we know it’s not because you’re nervous or scared…”

  “Remove your hand, Lucas.”

  “You are mine.”

  “Wrong! That statement is fucked-up in so many different ways. I am mine. I belong to me. I am not yours.” I push his hand away and take off once more. When I look back, he’s still on the steps, watching me leave.

  I don’t look back again until I know he can no longer see me. It’s then I stop, bending over and placing my hand to my chest as I try to catch my breath. To calm my nerves. To make sense of everything.

  What have I done?

  I won’t do this any longer.

  I can’t keep on seeing him.

  I also have a feeling I won’t get much of a choice. Once Lucas wants something, it seems he always gets it.

  And he plans to have me.

  Of this I have no doubt.

  Why? I don’t even know the answer to that question yet.

  Though, I’m sure I’ll find out the hard way.

  21

  Lucas

  “You really had to do that with both our mothers present?” Keir is now on the steps, where I haven’t moved since Chanel left. “I should shoot you in the fucking head, teach you a damn lesson. Maybe a piece of metal lodged in your skull might give you some fucking sense.”

  “Piper already shot me.”

  “Because you shot her first, dickhead.” He shakes his head, and the look he’s giving is enough for me to know I have totally and unequivocally fucked him off. “Enough of this bullshit you two have going on. It’s making everyone angsty. Fucking… Knock. It. Off. Do I make myself clear!” I roll my eyes and look away because if I show him my disrespect, Keir may very well put a bullet between my eyes.

  “Now, are you going to tell me the real reason you’re fixated on her, or keep that from me as well?”

  He always knows.

  Lord knows why I try to keep anything from him.

  I always end up telling him.

  I hate lies. Despise them, actually.

  But I have to lie to him. Only him.

  And he hasn’t killed me yet.

  Though, he may this time.

  I’ve kept things from him—things he’s asked me directly about.

  “There’s nothing.” There it is again, the lie that slips so easily from my lips as if it were put there by someone else.

  Keir walks back up to the door, but I stay right where I am, willing her to come back.

  “You better not be lying to me, Lucas.”

  Then he’s gone.

  My mother always warned me when I was young to never be like him—my father. “That is not a man you want to embody,” she would say. I listened, I did. But as a young man, you can’t help but want to be like your father, walk in his shoes, be the man he wants you to be.

  My father is a fucked-up motherfucking asshole. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind about that fact.

  But then again so am I.

  Maybe if I’d listened to my mother, things might have been different.

  Maybe.

  Or not.

  Guess I’ll never really know.

  One thing I do know for sure, is that I want Chanel. More than I have ever wanted another woman. I’m not sure why, or even what I plan to do with that information yet.

  She wasn’t factored into my life.

  She was forced into it.

  “Sir.” Brody opens the back door where I can usually be found in the club. He looks at me, and I can see his sister in those eyes. The only difference is her eyes are a little harder, mainly because they’ve seen more darkness. She’s had a completely different life than her brother. “Sorry to bother you, but Marcus asked if we should shut everything down for the night.”

  “Yes,” I answer quickly.

  He nods, and before he goes, I hold up my finger. “Where is your sister tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Last time I saw her, she was getting dressed up to leave.”

  “Leave?” I ask, wanting him to clarify.

  “Yes. She had on what she used to wear.”

  “You can go now.” I wave him off.

  “Sir, what do you plan to do with my sister? I know you like her.”

  “That’s none of your concern,” I bite back.

  “I’m just asking because she can be rough. But if you try hard enough, she may let you in. But then again, she may not.” He chuckles at his own words, obviously his own mind is waring with what he really thinks.

  “That will be all, Brody.” He nods again, and this time he disappears out of my office. I pull out my cell and text her, then grab my coat and leave through the back door with full intentions of finding her.

  She fucking better not be back on the streets.

  Shooting a text off to her, I wait for her to reply. I added my number to her phone under the contact of “Best fuck.”

  Me: Where are you?

  I hate that she doesn’t have an iPhone so I can see if she’s messaging me back. Maybe I’ll buy her one so I can keep track of her.

  Chanel: None of your business. Who says you are the ‘best fuck.’

  She replies quickly to my message, so I shoot her another text while driving.

  Me: Chanel…

  She sends me back a smiling face made out of punctuation marks, because that’
s all her shit phone can do.

  Me: I’ll find you, and when I do…

  Chanel: Big boy.

  Her words grate on me right through to my bones. I put my cell down and speed until I get to her place. Once I’ve parked the car, I get out, and take the stairs two at a time until I’m banging on her door rather loudly.

  I’m thinking about kicking it down when Merci pops her head out from next door.

  “She went out.” Merci crosses her arms over her chest in some sort of defiant move, which does nothing but infuriate me more.

  “Do you care to tell me where?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Depends. How much money you got on you?”

  “I could just walk in and put a bullet in your grandmother’s head.”

  “Wow. You’re a real asshole.”

  “So I’ve been told.” I lift my hand to my gun, and she watches my moves.

  “Maybe you should watch your cameras more often.” She smirks before she ducks into her apartment and shuts the door behind her. I grab some money out of my wallet and throw it where she stood. Lifting my phone, I flick through my security cameras at home and work.

  And that’s when I see her.

  Heels on.

  Dress too short.

  And I watch her as she walks into my club.

  Marcus opens the door for her because Brody’s already left.

  22

  Chanel

  Marcus gives me a stern look the minute he sets his eyes on me. But make no mistake, I’m not leaving here until I get what I want. I’m sick of Lucas having the upper hand. I grip my cell in my fist, even after I hear it ding, as Marcus tries to shut me out.

  “Get lost, Chanel, he isn’t here.”

  “I came to talk to you,” I tell him. I’ve heard whispers that even though Marcus doesn’t do Lucas’ dirty work like his other men, he runs this bar, and Lucas gives him free rein.

  “What on earth could you need to talk to me about?” he questions.

  “My brother,” I lie.

  “And this can’t wait until, you know…” His eyes pin mine. “… Lucas is here?”

  “No can do.” I smile at him, and he shakes his head as he walks into the bar. I quickly glance at my phone and see a text from Lucus..

  * * *

  Lucas: Where are you?

  * * *

  I clearly changed his name from ‘Best fuck.’ I wanted to change it to ‘Do not answer’ or ‘Stay the fuck away’ but Lucas sufficed… for now.

  * * *

  Me: You should probably enjoy the show. I know how you like to record me without my permission.

  * * *

  I click send and walk in, shutting the door behind me and leaning on it as Marcus stands in front of me.

  “What do you want to know?” he asks.

  He has a washcloth in one hand and is waiting patiently for me to speak.

  I almost feel bad for what I’m about to do.

  But I have to do it.

  Lucas is keeping something from me.

  And from what I heard, Marcus will know.

  “Ouch.” I bend down and inspect my thigh, lifting up my dress as far as it will go, until you can see a hint of my pussy. “Something bit me, can you look?” His eyes are transfixed on my legs and my pussy. “Marcus, it’s stinging,” I say, biting my lip.

  If there’s one thing in this life I know I’m good at, it’s men.

  I can read a man’s expressions and intentions.

  Well, maybe not all men because Lucas is a bit of a puzzle. But other than him, I do pretty well. My cell dings in my hand, but I ignore it.

  Marcus leans in closer, his face inches from my pussy. I watch as he tests the water, one hand coming to rest on my thigh, his other clenching the rag hard.

  That’s when I check my phone and smile.

  * * *

  Lucas: I’d tell him to remove his hand, or else.

  * * *

  I glance down at Marcus and see him really looking, his eyes transfixed. Men love to stare at pussy, Lord knows why. I drop my cell on the floor and step back away from him, then turn and bend over to pick it up. I hear his intake of breath, then I stand and look down at him to see if he’s getting hard.

  “Marcus, I need to ask you some questions.” He nods, and I go to the empty table, the one he must have been wiping down, and climb on it, crossing my legs. His eyes track my every movement. “Could you come a little closer?” I inch him closer with a crook of my finger, then I reach into my bra and bring out a condom. “Do you think you can test this and see if it fits you?”

  The rag drops from his hands.

  He hesitates, but I open my legs just a little more for him to see, and he snatches the condom from my hand and undoes his pants.

  I watch as he rolls it on, and as he does, I open my cell to see another message from Lucas.

  * * *

  Lucas: Unless you plan for me to dismember him right in front of your pretty chocolate eyes, I would stop.

  * * *

  Me: That would work, if I were yours. But I’m not.

  * * *

  Lucas: Oh, you are…MINE. Make no mistake.

  * * *

  I put the cell back down and smile at the camera situated on the bar before I look back to Marcus.

  “Do you think we can both fit up here?” He nods eagerly and gets up onto the table, his pants now gone and only his cock visible as he sits on his knees in front of my open legs.

  I want to say this feels wrong, but sex with men I don’t like has become something I’m good at—definitely not something I enjoy.

  Not like with him.

  Fuck him. I flip him the finger aimed at the camera as Marcus moves. I push him back and sit on his lower legs, his cock between us. I lean down on it, giving it a little friction.

  “Marcus, can you tell me something?” He nods, his eyes hooded, as he looks down his body at me. I reach between us and stroke his cock through the condom and smile at him. Pulling out my breast, I look up to the camera, and drop my head back. “Marcus, tell me something Lucas has kept from me that only you know.” I pump a little slower and look down at him as I grip my nipple, tweaking it.

  It does nothing for me.

  But for him, I feel his cock twitch in my hand.

  He likes it.

  “Marcus.” My hand pauses when he says nothing. He groans and shakes his head back and forth, like he doesn’t want to tell me. I go to move, but his hand shoots out and stops me.

  “He sourced your brother. Tracked him down and gave him the job.”

  What?

  What?

  I didn’t expect that.

  I thought…

  Hell, did I even ask how Brody got the job?

  “Why?” Marcus looks down at his cock, so I touch it again and repeat, “Why?”

  “Because of you.”

  The doors fly open, and we both turn to find Lucas standing there, with a feral look plastered on his face.

  Marcus moves lightning-fast, flinging me off of him. My head hits another table as I crash to the floor, the impact causing me to go dizzy for a second before I touch the back of my hair. I feel the slippery blood on my fingers and manage to look up to see that Lucas has Marcus on his knees.

  “Mio per sempre.”

  What does that even mean?

  “Let me help you up, Chanel.” His hands grip my arm and he pulls me up roughly.

  Fury—it’s written all over his face. His nostrils are flaring, and his eyes are protruding. Is there a word stronger than furious? Enraged. Raging. Wrathful.

  Holy shit! Wrathful is probably right.

  Marcus is practically sobbing on the floor.

  “You have some nerve. I’ll give you that.” I pull my hand away from my head and there’s bright red blood on my fingers. The sticky substance is covering my skin, pooling on my fingertips. “Ouch,” I whimper on a moan.

  Lucas’ eyes fall to my hand, then dart to Marcus. He walks over and kicks
him down off his knees. “You thought you could touch what is mine?” he barks at him.

  “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Oh, you fucking knew.”

  Marcus shakes his head.

  “Lucas…” I plead his name, but he doesn’t look up at me.

  He’s too angry.

  Too fixated on Marcus.

  “I wonder, which part did you love the most? Looking at her pussy or her hand touching you?” he asks much too calmly. When his eyes glance at me, they tell a different story, though.

  I manage to move forward and Lucas locks eyes with me.

  “Did you enjoy it? Because from my angle it looked like you didn’t.”

  I give him no response.

  It’s better that way.

  “I thought so. Seems only I know how to please you, and even now you’ve fucked that up.”

  “I fucked up nothing. You did,” I bite back, my head now pounding. I start to think this may have been a bad idea, but I know better. This was what I wanted—to find out some truths and I did just that. “You sourced my brother?” I ask, and his head swings to Marcus.

  “Your first mistake was opening the door to her. Your second…” he leans down, getting in Marcus’ face as he continues, “… was thinking you could touch her.” Then, without even a glimpse of hesitation, he puts a bullet straight into his brain. Blood splatters everywhere, hitting my bare legs, and a scream rips from deep inside me as Marcus drops to the floor, blood and brain matter pouring out of the wound.

  What did he just do?

  How could he do that?

  My eyes want to stay glued to the sight in front of me, but I know better. Because if I look at it a second longer, I may just be sick.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Hands grab me from behind as I try to make it to the door, my lungs heaving for much-needed oxygen. His breath tickles my ear, and I try to move out of his grasp, but he keeps hold of me.

  “Don’t you have some questions you want to ask me?” He turns me around, the gun still in his hand, both of us now covered in Marcus’ blood.