Sinning in Vegas: (Vegas Morellis, #2)

by Sam Mariano

  I don’t want her to be disappointed or think I’ve lost my mind again. I don’t want her to think this is anything like that weekend with Rafe, because it’s not. It’s so much more than that, but I’m not sure she’ll see it that way.

  I run my hand along the V-shaped pelvic muscle on Sin’s body that makes me forget all about the practical problems we may have. Looking at it now, I’m tempted to lick it. I don’t want to wake him up, otherwise I would.

  Then again… I grab my phone, checking the time. It is approaching dinner time. He’s probably going to need to feed me soon. Maybe I could wake him up. It’s not like he’s bound to complain when he wakes up to my mouth hovering over his pelvic region. I’m no tease; he knows I’ll happily follow through.

  Yep, it’s decided. I crawl down the bed, pulling my hair over my shoulder and dropping a soft kiss at the top of his V, then trailing kisses all the way down to his cock. I move across and run my tongue along the other side of his V, and when I make my way back down, his cock is hardening.

  I bite back a grin, peeking up at him. Sure enough, he’s looking down at me with sleepy, hooded eyes. “That’s one way to get me up,” he murmurs.

  “I look forward to discovering all the others,” I tell him.

  “If this your method of figuring them all out, I approve of this plan.”

  “You know something?” I ask, taking his cock in my hand and stroking it. “If you wanted to fuck me a day early, I wouldn’t object. It could be our little secret.”

  “Tomorrow,” he tells me.

  “Why not today?” I ask, before bending my head to lick the head of his cock like an ice cream cone. “You know I’ll happily suck you, but I desperately want you inside me.”

  Reaching down and grabbing me, he tugs me up his body and settles me against his chest. “I said tomorrow. My terms, not yours, remember?”

  “This seems unfair. I object. I’m going to collect signatures and file a petition.”

  Smiling faintly, he tells me, “By the time you do all that, it’ll be well past tomorrow. You’ll be so busy getting your signatures, you won’t even have time to get fucked.”

  Nodding once in consideration, I admit, “It wasn’t a well thought out plan.” Then, because I’m honestly baffled, I ask, “Why am I more impatient about this than you are?”

  “Because I know something you don’t,” he tells me.

  Cocking an eyebrow, I say, “Go on.”

  His fingers tenderly trace the curve of my face, somewhat negating the brutishness of his next words. “Once you open those pretty little legs and let me fuck you, I’m the last man that ever will. I’ll literally kill any bastard who thinks he can touch you once you’re mine.”

  “Ever, huh?” I ask, casually. “That’s kind of a long time.”

  “A very long time.”

  “Almost like a formal commitment,” I add.

  He nods his head. “Exactly like a formal commitment. Once I fuck you, we might as well be married, because that’s it. You belong to me.”

  I smile, snuggling against his chest. “You’re a sexy maniac. I like it. I don’t object to any of this, though. What’s the difference if it’s today or tomorrow? I can get the paperwork ready and sign the Laurel deed over to you right now. No rush charge or anything.”

  Sin cracks a smile. “Tomorrow.”

  There’s only one conclusion I can possibly draw from this, so I decide to ask. “You can’t seriously think I would sleep with Rafe tonight. I already told you I wouldn’t even kiss him.”

  “You can fuck without kissing. And no, I don’t think you have any intention of sleeping with Rafe tonight, but just in case he picks up on your absence today and… I just want to wait until tomorrow.”

  “What am I supposed to do if he does pick up on my absence today?”

  “Say you went shopping.”

  “And bought nothing?” I ask, skeptically. “You’re asking for another Winnefer situation.”

  “You left the books you brought home after your date here. They’re in the closet. Grab a book out of there, say you were at the bookstore.”

  As much as I hate to ask, I have to. “What’s going to happen, Sin?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he tells me, pulling me more snugly against him.

  “I understand you can’t give me all the dirty details, I just want to know that everyone is going to be okay,” I tell him. “Can you at least give me that?”

  “I can’t make any kind of guarantee, Laurel. I’m sorry, I know this involves you too, but I can’t talk to you about this. I can’t tell you things and then send you off to Rafe. If I want to make sure he stays in the dark, I have to keep you in the dark, too.”

  A chill runs down my spine at that. “Does that mean you’re going to hurt Rafe?”

  “Please stop asking me questions I can’t answer.”

  My tummy roils in protest. Maybe I don’t have the stomach for this. Placing a hand over my abdomen, I picture Rafe—not the Rafe I live with right now, but Rafe when he tries. Rafe when he’s charming. Rafe when he’s nice and not plotting against me. However much of an asshole he has been, I don’t want anything to happen to him. Everyone is an asshole sometimes. I can forgive him for being a jerkface. None of us knew exactly what to do in this scenario.

  Then again, he was vaguely threatening Sin the other night, and I am sort of stuck with him right now. We aren’t even dating, and we’re already in a loveless “marriage” of convenience.

  I can feel Sin’s eyes on me as I go quiet, thinking about all this. It’s like he knows where my mind is and it irritates him.

  “If it comes down to a choice between his side and mine, you’re on mine,” he says, though there’s a hint of question there, like he needs verification.

  “I don’t want you guys to be on opposite sides,” I tell him. “I want his side and yours to be the same. I only want to be with you, but…” I trail off, shaking my head.

  “I understand that. But in the event that isn’t possible. If only one of us is left standing at the end, I need to know you want it to be me. And if you don’t, you need to tell me that now.

  Don’t worry about my feelings or a fight. If there is some sleeper cell within you that does want to be with Rafe, you need to tell me that right now. Tomorrow is too late.”

  “I don’t,” I swear, shaking my head. “It’s not about being with him. It’s nothing romantic. It’s not like that. I just want a future where we all get along, and I don’t see why we can’t have that. Rafe isn’t in love with me. This isn’t going to break his heart. His major issue right now isn’t how much he cares about me, it’s that he’s the boss, and it would look bad to his men if he lost the chick he knocked up to his enforcer.” I roll my eyes. “It’s incredibly stupid, and how many of his men even know that? His cousin Gio, Lydia, you—it’s not like his whole crew even knows about me yet. It’s really none of their business.”

  “He said that?” Sin questions. “He said his problem is what people will think if you’re with me?”

  I nod my head. “Some shit about how bosses don’t divorce, how it looks bad if they can’t even keep their own families together, how are they supposed to run things? It’s dumb. It’s literally all about his ego and his position, it has nothing to do with affection for me. If he’d stop being stubborn, he could even spin this like it was his idea. He didn’t want to be shackled with a woman and a baby, so he was happy for you to take on the responsibility. I mean, I realize maybe your ego would get a ding that way, but it seems like a better solution than anyone having to die over this nonsense.”

  Sin frowns like he’s pondering what I’ve just said, but before he can further comment, my phone vibrates on the bed beside me. I grab it and my stomach bottoms out when I see it’s a text message from Rafe.

  “Where are you?” he asks.

  “It’s him,” I tell Sin, holding the screen up. “What should I say?”

  Sin eases out from under me, throwi
ng back the blanket and getting off the bed. “Tell him you’re shopping. Tell him you’re at the bookstore. Ask where he is.”

  “I don’t like this,” I tell Sin, shaking my head. “I don’t know if I can do this. Why don’t I just pretend I ran away again? I can say I’m going home, but I’ll stay here. When the dust settles tomorrow—”

  “We won’t make it to tomorrow, because Rafe is not a moron, and he’ll show up on my damn doorstep twenty minutes from now. Nobody wants that.” Pulling up his pants, he turns back and shoots me a stern look. “Keep it together. You’ve got this.”

  I do not have this. He is super wrong. Swallowing down my nerves, I look down at my phone and try to remember how to type words.

  I send him, “Bookstore. Where are you?”

  He types back right away. “Came home for dinner. When did you leave?”

  Instead of answering that, as my stomach knots up, I tell him, “I’m hungry too. Want to meet for food? I brought an Uber here, but I could walk over to that Italian restaurant we saw last time we were here. Remember? I told you I’d never been there. It’s not a long walk and I could go for some pasta.”

  “We can go out,” he sends back. “I don’t want to go there though, we’ll go to my restaurant. I’ll pick you up.”

  My head snaps up. “Rafe is going to pick me up from the bookstore. How far are we from the bookstore? Dammit, I don’t like lying.”

  “One day,” Sin promises. “I don’t like it either, but it’s one day. Is he at his house? I can get you to the bookstore before he gets there. Get your clothes on, we have to leave now.”

  38

  Laurel

  My fingers tremble as I flip open a brand new copy of Jane Eyre, moving slowly down the aisle as I wait to hear from Rafe. Sin just dropped me off after spending literally the whole ride here telling me over and over again that I cannot fuck this up, and I cannot try to help, and I cannot interfere in any way, because there will be hell to pay if I do.

  I really want to interfere. It’s extremely difficult not to. I’m not confident the men are handling this situation well, but Sin assures me I do not know the whole situation and I need to keep my nose out of it.

  So, I’m burying my nose in this book and hoping against hope that Rafe isn’t suspicious when he gets here. My stomach is already rioting with nerves, my brain is castigating me. Basically, I can’t take much more right now. I didn’t feel badly about sneaking off with Sin until Rafe texted me, then all of a sudden I felt like I’d done something wrong. The simplistic part of my conscience was like, “Listen, you need to dump Rafe. I know you aren’t technically dating, but you’re now actively sexually involved with someone else, and the right thing to do is let Rafe know you guys are never gonna happen.”

  Meanwhile Sin was like, “Don’t you fucking dare. This will all be over tomorrow anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

  Sin makes more sense. I don’t know why I’m worried about doing the “right thing” when Rafe may be in actual mortal danger. But I can’t warn Rafe, because that puts Sin in actual mortal danger.

  Caring about two dangerous, homicidal men totally sucks.

  “Didn’t I buy you that book already?”

  My stomach drops at the sound of Rafe’s voice. I look up and see him heading up the aisle toward me. I nod my head. “You did. I love this book. Listen to this.”

  He moves closer and peers at the page as I read.

  “‘If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.”

  Rafe reads from the page, “‘If others don’t love me, I would rather die than live.’” Cocking an eyebrow, he meets my gaze. “Someone is rather dramatic.”

  I smile, closing the book. “You wouldn’t die without the love and admiration of others?”

  “Certainly not. Their bad taste isn’t my problem.”

  My happiness dies a swift death as my thoughts drift away from this aisle in the bookstore, away from Jane Eyre, and toward tomorrow, and whatever darkness that’s going to bring. I know Sin told me not to interfere, but dammit, I want to so badly. I want to talk to Rafe. I want to reason with him. I want a future where we can bring our baby to the bookstore together and get ice cream, and then afterward, I can go home to Sin and we’re all happy. I don’t understand why we can’t have that. It’s so doable.

  “What about you?” he asks casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If everyone hated you and believed you to be wicked, how would you feel?”

  “I imagine it would depend whether or not they’re right. It’s hard to be happy if your happiness comes at the expense of someone else.”

  Rafe smiles, like that answer pleases him. “Only if you’re a good person, kitten.”

  “Can you be happy if your happiness comes at the expense of others?” I ask him.

  “Yes,” he answers easily.

  “Oh.”

  Draping his arm over my shoulder, he says, “That’s an interesting quote to gravitate toward. Are you experiencing a conflicted conscience?”

  It’s hard not to stiffen, but he can feel me now, so I try to keep my body relaxed even though his question puts me on edge. I should know better than to talk to him at all. I should have told him I had laryngitis. I don’t want him reading me today. Sin is trusting me to keep my damn mouth shut, and I don’t want to try to withstand Rafe’s prying powers.

  “I gravitate toward plenty of quotes from this book,” I tell him, leaning forward to replace it on the shelf.

  “Don’t put it back,” he tells me. “We’ll buy it.”

  “I already have it.”

  “This edition?”

  “Well, no,” I say.

  “Get this one. Highlight all your favorite passages and I’ll read it afterward. Try to ferret out why you like them,” he says, smiling faintly.

  Goddammit, it’s like he knows. It’s like he’s burrowing into my heart and making my stomach hurt on purpose.

  “I like you so much when we’re in bookstores,” I inform him.

  “Maybe we should move into one,” he suggests lightly.

  “Maybe we should only ever talk to each other when I’m holding a book. It seems to make a difference.”

  “I do like the sight of you holding books. Reminds me of my professor fantasies.”

  Ugh, another fucking hit. He needs to stop. He’s going to kill me with guilt.

  I need to see Sin again. I need to know what is happening tomorrow. I can’t do this. I can’t keep quiet and wake up tomorrow in a Rafe-less world.

  “Maybe you and I are better friends than lovers,” I suggest, even as my heart turns over in my chest. “If we weren’t together, we could still do things like this. We could still be friends. We could still take trips to the bookstore and grab lunch or dinner. You’re well-versed at spending time with women you’re not in relationships with. It’s second nature to you at this point. I think we might even get along better if we took the pressure of a relationship off the table. I know you think people would see it as you not being able to manage your personal life, but I actually think it could look exactly the opposite if you spun it the right way. It would be the easiest thing in the world to believe you don’t want to be tied down, that you want to keep your freedom. How could anyone who knows you possibly question that? Commitment isn’t for you—so what? It’s not for everybody. That doesn’t make you incapable of handling your shit. If anyone tries to say shit about it, make an example out of them. Show them your strength as a leader and after you’ve decimated them, ask if anyone else has a problem with the way you run your family.” I nod my head, confident in this plan. “This is a good plan. I don’t want to say I should be in charge of all your decisions, but, I mean, maybe.”

  Rafe nods absently, pulling his wallet out as we approach the cash register. “Are you done now?”

  “Come on, you can’t dispute any of that,” I tell him.

 
; He nods at the cashier. “Give the nice lady your book so we can go to dinner.”

  I sigh heavily, laying my book down on the counter. “It’s a good idea,” I grumble.

  Rafe ignores me, pays for my book, and then walks me out to his car so we can go to dinner. I hope to pick the conversation back up in the car, mainly with Rafe saying, “You know, Laurel, you’re right. Why don’t you and I just be friends, you can be with Sin and do the heavy lifting parentally, and I’ll pop in to have fun from time to time while still maintaining the freedom to bang as many pieces of cotton candy as I want to bang? That actually sounds perfect for me. Good thinking.”

  Because Rafe despises logic, apparently, that does not happen.

  When we get to Rafe’s restaurant, we go to his usual curved booth with the beautiful city view. Virginia is our waitress, as usual. She pops over to get our drink order, then goes to get them. While she’s away, I notice Rafe looking around, his eyes narrowed as if in confusion.

  “Everything okay?” I ask him.

  Glancing back at me, he nods. “Yeah.” Rather than further commenting, he nods at the copy of Jane Eyre I brought in and put down on the table in front of me. “Planning to start reading while we eat?”

  “No, I just didn’t want the book to get lonely in the car,” I inform him.

  Virginia comes back, serving Rafe first, then putting my drink down in front of me. “Ooh, Jane Eyre. Good pick. First time reading it?”

  I rest my hand on the cover. “Oh, no, I’ve read it a bunch of times. You like it?”

  “Love it. Not Rochester, he’s a dickface, but Jane is a kick. Sometimes awesome chicks like dickfaces; it’s a fact of life, can’t be helped.”

  I grin. “I really like you. I want to be friends.”

  “I’ve never received an in-person friend request before. I like your style. I accept. What can I get you to eat?” she asks, without pause.

  “You think Jane is awesome?” Rafe asks, his tone tinged with disbelief.

  “You don’t?” she questions.