Unleashing Sin

by A. M. Wilson

  Her shoulders slump in relief. “Thank you.”

  The night takes off after that, and as it progresses, Shelby comes more into her element. Her fear melts away as she deals with customers and grabs the simple drinks. It’ll take a while for her to learn to mix cocktails, but she’ll get there. If she wants to, that is, and I hope like fuck she does. I’ve seen more energy out of her in a few hours than I have since she showed up. I’m not saying she’s healed—we’ve got a long way to go for that—but she’s definitely shown signs of improvement. None as obvious as tonight.

  Closing time comes, and I send Christopher home. He’s cleaned up the outer area of the bar and washed all the dishes he left lying around for who knows how long. It’s obvious he’s not manager material, but I might keep him on as a busser.

  “You did really well tonight.”

  “Thanks. It was fun, actually.” She wipes down the last table and puts up the chairs.

  “I want you to work for me.” I wasn’t planning on saying that, but now that I have, it feels right.

  She stops in her tracks. “I’m not sure.”

  “No?” I dig through the register and pull out the tips we made tonight—over two hundred dollars. I give her the entire stack.

  “What’s this?” she asks as I place the money in her hand.

  “Your tips. Work for me, and they’re all yours, minus a small cut for Christopher. Look at it this way, I could use the help in the evenings when it picks up, and you could use the interaction with people. Help you integrate back into the real world. You’d be by my side the entire time, not to mention, Elias comes in frequently. Plus, you’ll earn a regular wage in addition to tips.”

  Shelby twists her fingers and looks down at her hands. “That’s really nice and all, but I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “Shelby.”

  She looks back at me, her eyes pleading with mine to make the decision for her.

  “Work for me. What other choice do you have right now? Until you decide what you want to do, this is the best place for you to be.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Damn right, I am. Now let’s get out of here. It’s nearly three in the morning.”

  She gathers her coat from behind the bar. “Is it really that late?”

  “Bar closes at two. I let Elias know you were with me.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  I lead her out the same door we came in and lock up behind us. “I also chewed his ass out for not showing you how to work the cell phone.”

  She glares at me while putting on her helmet. “You didn’t have to do that. He didn’t know.”

  I give her an are you serious look.

  “Okay, so it was an honest mistake.”

  “First thing tomorrow, I’m showing you how it works. Second thing, I’m feeding you because you still aren’t eating enough.”

  “Alex!”

  I fire up the bike. “Third, I’m really fuckin’ proud of you.”

  Without giving her the chance to respond, I take off.

  Chapter Eleven

  Shelby

  The first thing I remembered was his eyes. So brown they’re nearly black. There was a familiarity there that I couldn’t place, but I’d swear I’d seen those eyes before. Coming in and out of consciousness, he’d be there. Peering over me. Standing vigil like a fallen angel. I had no idea who this man was, but he seemed to know me. He seemed to care for me.

  Several weeks ago, I woke up in a strange place, surrounded by strange men, and now I’m staring into those dark eyes again. Except this time, I awoke with a gasp that stole all the breath from my lungs. I was disoriented and terrified.

  Until I saw those eyes.

  “Whoa, blossom. It’s me. Alex.”

  Alex.

  He says it with familiarity, as if Sin never existed and took his place. Not like a few weeks ago when it seemed painful to have me call him Sin, yet nobody had called him by his real name in years.

  “I’m sorry,” I grumble sleepily. My back cracks as I move to sit, and the crick in my neck screams in pain. He needs a new couch in this place. Sleeping on it wasn’t my brightest idea.

  A frown puckers his heavy brow. “What are you doin’ here?”

  “Elias had a date,” I mutter.

  “Not here, here. I meant here, as in, on my fuckin’ couch instead of in a bed.”

  “Oh.” I breathe, looking across the space to the empty kitchen. I wonder what he has for breakfast food. Eating is still a tricky issue for me, and considering I barely picked at my dinner, I’m starving this morning.

  “Shelby,” he growls, having run out of patience. When I swing my gaze back over to him, he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

  I burrow further beneath the blanket I dragged off the back of his couch last night. “It was late when I let myself in, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “What the fuck?”

  I deserved that. It’s true this wasn’t the first time I’d let myself into his home. The day after I showed at his apartment alone and freaked out in the hallway, he brought me to the hardware store and had a key made. While the key was being cut, he walked over to a display case and picked out a keyring with a decorative, cursive ‘S’ charm attached to it. He obviously picked that charm out for my name, but I liked to think it was a representation of Sin’s name. He put the new key on it and gave it to me with firm instructions. I was to come and go as needed, even if he wasn’t home, and I better not ever lose it.

  This was only the third or fourth time I’d come to his place alone. Elias would drop me off when he had plans, which more than likely involved a woman, and they were becoming much more frequent the longer I was around. I was happy to see him going out and having a good time instead of feeling obligated to hang out with me.

  Last night was no different, except when I got inside Sin’s place, he didn’t come to meet me at the door as he normally did. He didn’t come out at all. Actually, his bedroom door was closed, and I assumed he had been busy with someone else.

  “I don’t know why you’re upset.” I try for strength, but I still sound weak and afraid. And that just makes me angry.

  “Do you ever sleep on the couch?”

  “I mean, it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Have I ever made you sleep alone on the couch?” he snaps.

  “No.”

  “Haven’t we worked on teaching you how to ask for things you need?”

  “Yes, but—ˮ

  “If that’s true, then why didn’t you come into my room and get into my bed?”

  His words make my stomach flip, but I don’t want them to. I start to feel queasy.

  “Um, I’m not sure—ˮ

  All I saw was a flash of color on either side of my head. His torso pitches forward as he swings his face to my level. He braces himself with his arms against the back of the couch, caging me in.

  “You don’t sleep on the couch. Ever. You come here, you sleep in my bed. You want me there, I’m there, but if you don’t, I’ll take the fuckin’ couch.”

  The heat from his body, the warmth of his breath on my face, it’s too much. It makes my head spin.

  “I thought you weren’t alone,” I whisper, the words falling out unfiltered through my current brain fog.

  His gaze flicks to my lips. His brows snap together at the same time he growls, “I will always be alone.”

  The double meaning of those words don’t escape me, and it hurts me to hear him say it with such conviction.

  “You have me,” I murmur, more than a little hurt he doesn’t see me the way I see him.

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  “I-I don’t care.” And I don’t, not really. Sure, my stomach is queasy, and the palms of my hands begin to sweat, but Alex has done so much for me over the past couple of weeks that I feel like I should be doing the same for him. How can he feel so alone when I’m right here, practically begging him to notice me? What’s so bad abo
ut finding solace in someone who can understand better than anybody else?

  He runs his thumb along my lower lip, and that simple touch has me sucking in a sharp breath through my teeth. When he presses down in the middle, forcing the soft flesh into my teeth, the sharp bite causes me to hiss.

  “I’m not a nice man,” he growls, staring at the place where he’s touching me.

  Responding would dislodge his thumb, and I’m not ready for him to stop touching me, so I stay quiet.

  “I’m the worst sort of man.” His voice drops even lower, softer, the tone so deep I swear I can feel it vibrate inside me. His thumb twitches, my mouth waters, and I don’t know what comes over me and makes me do it, but I touch the tip of my tongue to his thumb. It’s his turn to suck in a sharp breath, but neither of us moves. The air around us stills, everything quiet except for the rapid pounding of our hearts.

  I must feel like pushing boundaries today, or maybe my self-control is nonexistent because I do it again. I run my tongue along the edge of his thumb. There’s something happening to me. Something bold. Maybe it’s because he’s not forcing me, or that I want to show him I don’t find him repulsive. It might be that the warm, salty taste of him leaves me wanting more. That taste igniting something inside me. Whatever it is, I’m not sure. All I know is the next thing I want to do, so I do it.

  I close my lips around his digit and give it a tentative suck.

  His resulting groan shoots straight through me. My nipples tighten and my stomach clenches in a way I have never, ever felt before. Not even back to the days of middle school crushes and butterflies did I feel something so deep and visceral. That one sound from him takes root inside me and spurs me on. I latch onto his wrist with one hand and suck him deeper into my mouth, keeping my eyes locked onto his. I circle him with my tongue, loving when he groans again.

  “Blossom,” he speaks in a soft, gruff voice. “What are you doing?”

  It’s a simple question, but it makes me stop as suddenly as if he’d shocked me. Was I doing something wrong? What was I doing? Sucking on some random man’s finger? I probably look like the whore I’ve been conditioned to be, oh God.

  I relinquish my hold on his wrist and pull my mouth away, dropping my eyes and turning my face to the side in shame. Was this my conditioning again, or did I want to do this? I can’t deny it felt good, and it’s never felt good before.

  Alex claims my cheeks and cradles my face in his large hands, forcing my face back to his. The brown irises hold warmth and desire, but not in a leering way. Still, I’m mortified, and the embarrassment coupled with his warm hands are making me hot.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down.”

  My saliva has turned to sludge, and I need to swallow it down. “I’m not.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed at what feels good. It felt good to me, too.”

  “It did?” I ask back in shock, not following what’s happening. I thought he wanted me to stop?

  He makes an unintelligible sound and grabs one of my hands, cupping the back of it. Threading his fingers through the tops of mine, he guides my hand to his lap. I don’t know what he’s doing until he places it on the very hard, thick bulge in his pants. As soon as my hand is settled, he pulls his away and grasps my face again.

  “Darling girl, you did that.”

  I swallow again, keeping my hand where it is. Not because he put it there, but because I want to. It’s a heady feeling knowing I did that to him, and not because I was forced to walk around naked or perform sexual acts to get him there. I did something I wanted, something that felt good to me, and he enjoyed it, too. My fingers flex involuntarily, making his eyelids twitch.

  “You can keep your hand there or let go, whatever you want to do. Though, I’d really fuckin’ like to kiss you right now, if you’d let me.”

  I’m too stunned to speak, so I nod, wanting that, too. That’s not good enough for him, though.

  “Your words are powerful. I need to hear you say it. Ask me to kiss you, Shelby.”

  My stomach flips. He’s giving me an incredible gift, the opportunity to test this experience with someone who knows my situation and will be kind to it, one I’d be stupid to turn down. “Please kiss me, Alex.”

  He groans again, a sound that does incredible things to my insides and is quickly becoming one of my favorites. His fingers slide from my cheeks into the hair at the sides of my head. Holding me still, he moves in slowly.

  I don’t move an inch; I barely even breathe as he comes closer. In the gentlest touch I’ve ever felt, he presses his lips against mine. Our eyes stay locked, and he adds a bit more pressure. That simple touch sets my heart racing. He pulls away with a satisfied look on his face. “Thank you, dar—ˮ

  “No.”

  Capturing the back of his head, I pull him back into me. Our lips crash together, and this time, our eyes slide shut. Our bodies are a push and pull of power; ultimately, I win out and scramble onto his lap. I feel his hardness between my thighs, and it terrifies me as much as it thrills me. As he takes my mouth, I press down against him and gasp at the zing of pleasure when I get the pressure just right, moaning into his mouth. I can feel his restraint in the shake of his arms where he’s holding my head. His hands never stray, and I’m quietly grateful for it. I can’t say the same for my own. I scrape my nails down the back of his scalp, rub his nape, and bring my hand around to the front of his torso. My fingertips trail along the hard muscles of his chest, causing his hips to give a slight twitch upward. I tentatively grind down to meet him. He grunts into my mouth. Taking that as a good sign, I continue exploring his torso. Finding the hem of his shirt, I slip my fingers beneath it. His skin is warm and silky, separated by trails of hair. I wander to his sides, feeling the ridge of his obliques and up over his rib cage.

  Alex’s tongue traces my lower lip, and out of everything, that makes me freeze. I can’t explain it, but he immediately notices and stops. Instead of wrenching away suddenly, he slowly moves his kisses to the corner of my mouth, my cheekbone, right below my ear, giving me time to catch my breath.

  “It’s too soon. That’s okay, blossom,” he murmurs.

  “I-I’m sorry.”

  With gentle pressure, he guides my head beneath his chin and lowers his arms around my waist where he wraps me tight. “I’ve never tasted something so beautiful on my lips.”

  I push up frantically, and he lets me. “I’m not beautiful,” I mutter, sitting taut on his lap. I wanted to scramble off, but the second the words leave my lips, his arms lock around me.

  “Knock that shit off.” There’s no mistaking the anger in his voice. My body goes on high alert.

  “I know what I am, Alex. You don’t have to reward me with compliments just because I let you kiss me.”

  His body turns to stone.

  “What the fuck?”

  Fear injects into my veins, and I’m suddenly cold. “Let me go,” I whimper.

  That’s not what happens. He locks his arms and dips his chin so that there’s nowhere for me to look but at him.

  “You don’t have a fuckin’ clue what you are. You’ve been so conditioned to think the absolute worst, but let me share something with you. I’ve lived an ugly life for as long as I can remember. My mom walked out when I was eight. Before that, it was years of her fighting with my dad. After that, it was years of my dad fighting with my sister and me. You know what happened to Molly; my dad got his head blown off shortly after. I’ve been living. In. Hell. So when I have something beautiful in my arms, you can believe me to tell the truth about it. I might have seen a lot of ugly, but I’m not so blind as to miss when something beautiful comes along.”

  “I’m tainted.”

  “You’re gorgeous,” he fires back.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Lips of a fuckin’ angel. I’ve never experienced something so sweet as you moaning and sighing in my mouth. If I didn’t think I’d scare you halfway across the world, I’d bring you to my
bed and kiss you again.”

  That gets me. The thought of kissing him in his bed. So much so, I almost beg him to do just that.

  That wouldn’t be wise, though, kissing him again. More than just the fact it scares me half to death. What confounds me the most is that I responded to him. My body responded to him, and I liked it. And I can’t tell if it’s my years of conditioning that want to please him or if I really, truly want it for me. I feel bold. I also feel terrified.

  “What’s going through that head of yours?”

  Fingertips graze my cheek, and then my head is being turned. I face Alex and inhale sharply at the openness in his gaze. For once, the rich brown of his eyes doesn’t look so black and dangerous.

  I close mine, and when I open them, I use the patient look on his face to fuel my courage. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “It’s a fuckin’ great idea.” He must feel me tense because he continues, “But not one you’re ready for. I get that. I can give you all the time in the world if it’s what you need to work out what those sick bastards did to you. What I can’t give you is time to work out of your mind what you think of yourself. I won’t take that shit, and I won’t let you do it either. That’s not somethin’ you should fight through alone. If I have to tell you every fuckin’ day you’re beautiful, I’ll do it until you got it.”

  I shift in his lap. “You shouldn’t have to do that. I-I should just be normal.”

  “You’ve been livin’ through hell, so this probably isn’t even on your radar, but all women have been trained to think that beauty matters most. Girls who’ve lived a fairy-tale life still wake up in the morning and look in the mirror only to find something they’re unhappy with. They get plastic surgery and injections to look youthful for as long as possible because somewhere along the way, growing old turned into a bad thing. Took me a long time to figure it out, but growing old is a privilege. Especially when you got someone to do it with.”

  At that, I watch his eyes close and his jaw clench, almost as if in pain. Is he thinking of his own family? His mom, sister, and dad, all of them—gone. Is he feeling how alone he is? Or does he dread the indefinite future with me until I can get on my own feet again? Maybe talking about growing old only reminded him that I’m stuck bouncing between him and Elias until I can figure my life out.