Sinful Longing

by Lauren Blakely

  “Smaller angle,” Colin said, correcting him, and Rex made a quick adjustment then watched the ball sail into the net.

  “Holy shit,” the teen said as the ball bounced on the court. Rex’s younger brother, Tyler, had joined them, watching from the sidelines, and looked less impressed.

  Rex marched over to Colin and slapped his palm. “I still don’t believe you, but a deal is a deal is a deal. You get to tutor me now in business math.”

  Colin beamed. For the last year he’d been coaching the rec league and tutoring the teens at the center in business math as part of his personal decision to devote more time to service. He’d lost out on a big deal a year ago, and had felt the first inklings of the familiar urge to bury his frustrations in liquor. Rather than give in, he’d refocused his energies, pouring his time into others. That had helped him fight the good fight and stay on the straight and narrow path.

  “It’s all math, man. Everything is math,” he said, grabbing the ball from the ground and dribbling it in place. “You will use math in every fucking area of your life. Chance of hitting a free throw from one-third of the way up the court? Math. Chance of landing a slam-dunk? Math. How much money do I need to pay my bills? Math. Is it worth missing class to sleep in? Comes down to math.”

  “What he’s saying is—math is everything,” Tyler said.

  “What? You’re on his team now?” Rex said jokingly to his brother.

  “Listen to Tyler. He knows what he’s talking about,” Colin said. A few years younger, Rex’s brother dabbled in basketball, but his asthma slowed him down.

  “And this is the shit you do for a living?”

  Colin took aim at the net and watched the ball soar. “See, I’m not some natural basketball player. I only learned how to hold my own on the court by applying math to the way I play. And yes—this is the shit I do for a living. Every day. Evaluate risk. Study balance sheets. Look at profit and loss statements. And take a gamble as to whether some new technology for phones, or TVs, or gaming, or whatever, is going to change the world.” The ball slinked neatly through the basket. He tossed it to Rex, who took his shot.

  “How much green did you bring home last year?” Rex asked.

  Colin laughed, shaking his head, as the younger man landed a shot.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “No. I’m not going to tell you. But I will say this: my portfolio of companies had a twenty-four percent return, and that’s well ahead of the stock market, and it’s also ahead of the twenty percent benchmark for a venture capital firm, so there you go. Plus, one of the early seed startups I invested in five years ago went public, and my firm netted a beautiful profit from that sale. A thirty times return.”

  Rex’s eyes practically turned into dollar signs, and Colin chuckled. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. That money goes back into the portfolio. So we can invest in more companies,” he explained, dribbling the ball. Rex was eighteen and headed to community college. He didn’t know what he wanted to major in, and Colin was hoping he’d lean toward business. He had some innate interest in it. He just needed a push to see the value in the long term.

  “But that’s your goal, right?” he asked.

  “You got it. Find the diamond in the rough. Bet big on it before anyone else does. Grow it and watch it turn into a money tree.”

  Rex waved his arms enthusiastically. “Oh man, I want a money tree. I want a big, fat money tree that grows greenbacks all year round. Ty, let’s go grow us a money tree.”

  “Yeah, right, in the concrete pit at our crappy apartment complex,” Tyler said with a snort from his spot on the sidelines.

  “Hey! Watch it. We’ll move up someday.” Rex turned back at Colin and pointed his thumb at Tyler. “I gotta look out for him. Mom’s working too many jobs. She’s never around.”

  “That’s why she makes sure you’re here instead of wandering the streets,” Colin said, passing the ball to Rex. “And if you study business, you’ll have a hell of a better shot at growing a money tree than you would by chasing after some get-rich-quick scheme. Invest, nurture, grow, make more. That’s what I do. That’s my job. That’s my passion.” He held out his arm, showing the tattoo there. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained.

  Rex tucked the ball beneath his elbow and walked closer to see.

  “Hey, Rex. I’m hungry,” Tyler interjected.

  “Give me a second, Ty. I’ll make you mac and cheese when we get home. My man Colin is training me to be a venture capitalist. Get over here and join us.” Rex turned his attention back to Colin’s ink. “So that’s your mission at work or something? Nothing ventured, nothing gained?”

  “Yeah, but in life, too. Means more to me than just work.”

  “Like what?” Rex asked.

  “It means take big chances. It means stay away from drugs,” Colin said, talking bluntly to the boys as he always did.

  Rex sneered. “What do you know about that, Mr. Richie Rich? You probably bathe in Cristal.”

  Colin rolled his eyes. “Dude. You think I was born rich? You think I was rolling in cash as a kid? Wrong,” he said, as if he’d just slammed a buzzer on a game show. “My family was fucked up, and I was the most messed up of them all. Painkillers, tequila, and speed in college. I was a mess. All this,” he said, gesturing to his arms, covered in ink, “they’re my reminders. Eight years clean.” He pointed to the art on his body, naming each one. “Lotus, new beginning. Sunburst, truth and bravery. This Chinese character—it’s for strength.”

  Rex raised his chin and peered at an infinity symbol with four interlocking circles on Colin’s wrist. “What’s that one?”

  “Me and my brothers and sister. The four of us. Our unbreakable bond, no matter what.”

  “That’s like us,” Rex said, patting his arm where the sleeve of his T-shirt hit.

  “What do you mean?”

  Rex pointed to his little brother. “Him. I always look out for Tyler. That’s why I have this.” He pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder. At first Colin saw only a few letters of the word protect. His hackles rose, remembering what Ryan had told him a week ago. The guy who’d been following Shannon around had some ink on his arm that said Protect Our Own—the tattoo of the Royal Sinners.

  Colin spoke sharply. “Do not even. That better not be what I think it is.”

  Rex furrowed his brow. “Way to freak out, dude. What the fuck do you think it says?”

  “That better not be Protect Our Own.”

  Rex laughed deeply, clutching his belly, letting the sound resonate through him. “No. No. No,” he said, catching his breath. “No way. No how. Our ink says Protector. We got ours together.” Rex stepped closer to Colin and showed him the full wrap of the word around his bicep. Tyler yanked up his shirtsleeve, displaying matching ink.

  “I would whip him good if he messed around with that gang.” Rex draped an arm around his little brother.

  “Whew,” Colin said, wiping his hand across his brow in exaggerated relief.

  “I saw some of them a few blocks away the other day.”

  “Here?” Colin asked, pointing to the basketball court.

  Rex nodded. “Nearby. We made sure they didn’t come any closer.”

  Colin didn’t like the sound of gang members hovering so close to the community center. He was well aware that it was a risk—this center was located in a section of town that had been a hot bed of crime years ago, but the surrounding neighborhood was improving now. Still, he wanted the center, the kids, and Elle as safe as could be.

  “Who’s we? What is Protector?” he asked, returning to the ink.

  “A group of us who are trying to look out for others,” Tyler said, chiming in proudly. He seemed to idolize his older brother.

  Colin arched an eyebrow. “Like the Guardian Angels?”

  Rex nodded. “We model ourselves after them. We’re all volunteers. We do safety patrols. Walk the streets. Keep an eye out. Elle inspired me to do it. Rise above, as she would say.”
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  “Did someone say my name?”

  Colin turned in the direction of the sultry, sexy voice. She wore tight jeans and a little white summery blouse. The outfit did wondrous things to her fantastic tits and her fabulous ass. Her long, dark hair spilled down her spine, and she gathered it up, creating a makeshift ponytail, then fanned her face with her free hand. A small part of him wished the woman wasn’t so damn hot. As Rex and Tyler snapped their gazes to Elle, he could see it in their eyes—she’d featured in their whack-off fantasies. A primal, territorial instinct licked through his veins, and he wanted to pounce on Elle, wrap his arms around her, and claim her.

  “Mine,” he’d say with a snarl, toss her over his shoulder and cart her off to the woods to take her, mark her, and leave his imprint on her.

  Of course, the rational, adult portion of his brain knew that was ludicrous. She was hardly his, and even with what they had, he needn’t be jealous of teenage boys. They were boys, and while they might lust after her, they also admired her.

  “We’re quoting you, Elle. Rise above,” Tyler said, raising his fist in the air. Yup, it was a mix of feelings they possessed for the hot-as-sin and caring-as-hell director of the center where they spent many days and evenings.

  She held up a hand to high-five Tyler then slapped the older brother’s hand, too. “Excellent. You boys do me proud. Are you staying to get a bite to eat? I hear there are turkey sandwiches on the menu tonight.”

  “I love turkey!”

  “More than my mac and cheese?” Rex asked his brother.

  Tyler nodded. “But I still love your mac and cheese.”

  “Fine, we’ll stay. We need to work on our angles later.” Rex draped an arm around his brother. “Hey, Elle, did you hear? Colin is trying to turn me into the next venture capitalist.”

  “That sounds like an excellent pursuit,” she said.

  “I’m gonna earn twenty-five percent and beat his ass.”

  “After I tutor you in math, you just might,” Colin said.

  The teen turned to Elle. “He twisted my arm. He’s gonna make me learn my two plus twos for community college.”

  “That’s not a bad thing, Rex. And I suspect you’ll learn a whole lot more than two plus two.”

  “Anyway, it’s too hot out here. We’re going inside. Catch you later, Mr. Cristal,” Rex said with a wink at Colin.

  As he walked away, Elle raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Cristal?”

  “Long story. But it has a good ending.”

  “Maybe tell me tonight?” She tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans. “Turns out I have more time than I thought. Alex is at a friend’s house for dinner, then they’re going to see the new dinosaur movie or whatever that thing is that all the boys are watching on the big screen.”

  “Are you asking me out, Elle?”

  “I was just thinking it would be fun to hang out with you. As friends,” she added, a reminder of how she saw him. Her voice went a touch softer, “As well as…you know.”

  Hang out. Friends. Not exactly the words he wanted to hear from her. But he could work with it. “I can do a lot with more time.”

  “I had a feeling you might be able to,” she said, tapping her watch. “Give me an hour to finish up?”

  “Perfect. I need to stop at my house anyway. I’m taking care of Ryan’s dog since he’s followed Sophie to Germany.”

  “He followed her to Germany?” she asked, bouncing on her toes.

  “He did indeed. He’s madly in love with her. So I’ve got Johnny Cash for the week, and I need to go take him for a walk.”

  “That is so sweet.”

  “Me taking care of his dog, or him following her to Germany?”

  Elle flashed him the sweetest smile. “Both actually. I’m so happy for her,” she said, practically glowing as she spoke about the two of them. “He looked so in love with her when I saw them at the Venetian event together. And it’s incredibly cool of you to look after his dog.” She gestured in Rex’s direction. “And to help Rex to focus more on his studies. I’ve been trying to get him to work on math for the longest time, and I’ve never seen him connect with anyone else here like he does with you.” She reached out to wrap her hand around his arm. “He’s such a good kid at heart, taking care of his little brother and everything. But he needs to channel all his money-making energy so he’s not taken in by the wrong thing.”

  “I hear you loud and clear,” Colin said, enjoying all the things Elle had just told him, but especially her reaction to Ryan’s romance movie-esque pursuit of Sophie. Sure, she was talking about another couple, but something seemed to spark in her at the mention, as if it stirred up a long-dormant longing.

  Cool your jets, Colin.

  He might be reading too much into it. But Elle had focused so long on other people—on her son, on her ex. She didn’t let romance into her life, and now she was only permitting fun in the bedroom. Perhaps, though, he needed to do more tonight than just send her soaring between the sheets. This thing between them might only be about the physical right now, but he had a chance tonight to show her how good he could be for her. Maybe friendship was the key to unlocking the heart that she kept so protected.

  “Meet me on Fremont Street and North Las Vegas Boulevard at six p.m.”

  Her eyes widened and her shoulders tensed. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes. “Are you going to make me do the zip line?”

  He scoffed. “Make you? Never. Encourage you? Absolutely.”

  “Why do you want me to do it?”

  “Because it’s fun. Because it’s a natural high. Because it feels good.”

  “Lots of things feel good but that doesn’t mean I want to do them.”

  “So let me get this straight. You do roller derby, racing around a rink like a speed demon on skates, and you won’t do a zip line?” he asked, challenging her.

  She narrowed her eyes, parking her hands on her hips. “Not the same. Roller derby is flat. Besides, I’ve done it for years, I play defense, and it’s indoors.”

  “C’mon, Titanium,” he urged, goading her with her roller derby name.

  She pursed her lips. “No fair.”

  “All’s fair,” he began, but cut himself off before finishing with in love and war. He didn’t want to hint at love, or romance, or anything close to it. Those were red flags for her, even if he hoped something in the back of her mind or heart might yearn for them. “In any case, it’s your choice, Titanium.”

  “I will consider it as I lock up my office,” she said, and those words—lock up—flipped the switch on an idea.

  He jumped to a new topic. “Hey, would it be okay if I increased my firm’s donation to the center?”

  She shook her head playfully. “No. God no. Anything but that,” she said, waving it off. She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. But why, may I ask?”

  “Thought it would be smart to get some additional security while the revitalization is going on,” he said, gesturing to the court and main building. “Lots of people coming and going. Construction crews. My donation already went to some of that already. Just a little more for some extra manpower.”

  “Anything I should worry about?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Well, more than usual. I know this isn’t the best section of town, but it’s getting better.”

  “It is absolutely getting better. Let’s keep it that way. I happen to know some guys in security,” he said, since Ryan and Michael ran a security firm.

  “Let’s do it.”

  “Three of my favorite words from you,” he said, as they walked off the court. He pointed to his car parked down the block. “I’m going to go shower and walk the dog. I’ll see you at six.”

  She fanned herself. “Now I have a nice image of you naked and wet in the shower.”

  “And that’s my cue to go.”

  He brushed his lips against hers, leaving her a quick, hot kiss to think about.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Elle stared at the crowds along the Fremont S
treet Canopy seventy-seven feet below her.

  Deep breath.

  She wasn’t afraid of heights, but she was afraid of, well, of dying. Or, more precisely, dying stupidly. Like jumping into a lake and cutting her head on a rock. Like parachuting. Like crashing from a zip line. That kind of death.

  Logically, she knew a zip line wasn’t a dangerous activity in the spectrum of dangerous things. But her rapidly beating heart, which seemed to be fighting its way out of her chest, begged to disagree. Her skin prickled with nerves—the kind she hadn’t felt since she was younger and danced with danger. Now, as an adult, she tried to keep her risks manageable.

  You can do this, she told the portion of her brain that had zero interest in skydiving and bungee jumping. Just a zip line. It’s exceedingly safe, and ridiculously fun.

  Plus, Colin waited patiently on the other side, hovering in his seat. The parallel zip lines ran down the length of the covered Fremont Street that was the epicenter of downtown Las Vegas—old Vegas, with the Golden Nugget, and slots that still relied on coins rather than tickets. It was Vegas before mega resorts broke ground on the Strip.

  Everyone rode the line here on Fremont Street. It was part of the experience. Besides, cruising along a zip line was a perfectly manageable risk. Man-made, controllable. The kind she could handle.

  “I’m ready,” she said to the attendant. In a rush, so she wouldn’t back down, she let go and stepped off the platform, zipping off in her seat harness. She unleashed a rollercoaster shout of excitement. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she soared above the specks of miniature people, and a sense of wild glee engulfed her as she sped, faster and faster. She glanced briefly to the left, where Colin sailed above the crowds on his downhill flight along the canopy.