Awakened by Sin

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Awakened by Sin Page 10

by Mia Knight

“Hi,” Angel said genially. “You two looking for a third?”

  The brunette bit her lip. “I’m supposed to find another girl, but you’re…” The brunette cast a furtive look around. “If you’re around later, I think I could slip away from my boyfriend.”

  Angel looked back at her with a raised brow. “And you, Carmen?”

  “I don’t do threesomes. I’m selfish.”

  Angel grinned. “What a coincidence. Right now, I feel the same way.”

  She tried to slip into the crowd but was brought to a halt when he wrapped an arm around her middle.

  “Seems like neither of us can help you tonight,” Angel said to the brunette who opened her mouth to negotiate, but something over his shoulder caught her eye.

  She sighed and gave him a look full of yearning. “Maybe another time?”

  “Sure,” he said and she disappeared into the crowd.

  “Seriously, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I’m working.”

  It was a shot in the dark, but she tried. “You’re here for Regal?”

  She saw a flash of surprise, which he quickly hid. “You know Regal?”

  “Of course.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

  She scowled at the condescending tone. “He’s the most skittish man on the planet. This isn’t the place to approach him.”

  He stroked her bare back. The streak of fire he left in his wake made her suck in a breath. It was only then that she realized they were swaying lazily to the music. She had no problem grinding against a guy she would never see again. Angel Roman was something else.

  “You’re not wearing a mask,” she said.

  “This is my mask.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His sharp gaze was a blatant contrast to the relaxed body moving in tune with hers. Behind that rough accent and pretty face, something twisted and ruthless lurked.

  “I don’t know what to make of you,” he mused.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just looking at you, I wouldn’t think you knew what to do with a gun, much less have the balls to kill a man. This morning, I pegged you for a smoking hot nanny, and now you’ve morphed into a man-eater.”

  “I’m not a man-eater.”

  “You have trouble written all over you.”

  “Then you should stay far away.”

  His finger wove a distracting design on the small of her back. “I like challenges. Are you here alone?”

  “No, I’m out with friends.”

  He made a show of looking around. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “They’re”—she waved vaguely—“around. Somewhere.”

  He raised a brow. “How smashed are you?”

  “Not drunk enough to fuck you.”

  He threw back his head and roared with laughter as he drew her even closer. “When I fuck you, you’re gonna be stone cold sober. I don’t want to fuck a limp body. I need you to be able to brace yourself.”

  Oh, fuck. Did her pussy just spasm? He smiled. He definitely knew what he was doing. Men underutilized their best feature, and it wasn’t their dick or muscled body. It was their mouth. Words could make a woman hotter than touch, and he fucking knew it. Damn Roman.

  “You sober yet?” he murmured.

  She bared her teeth. “No!”

  He continued to move with her as if he had all the time in the world. Despite his words, he wasn’t feeling her up or trying to kiss her, which made her wonder how he kissed… which he also knew. He was definitely a playboy, the most dangerous type. He might not dress in suits, but his image was carefully crafted all the same. She bet his jeans were fucking tailored. Gavin and Angel were definitely cut from the same cloth. They were from wealthy families but willing to get their hands dirty. She inhaled his cologne. It was a light, clean scent. Not overpowering. She labeled him forbidden sin. Apparently, she wasn’t into women or the other males who approached her tonight. Instead, she was attracted to Vinny’s replacements in the business and underworld: Marcus Fletcher and Angel Roman. Not good news.

  “You swing both ways?” Angel asked.

  “No.” She liked dick too much.

  “But you kissed her.”

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  He grinned. “So, you like to experiment. You’re my kind of woman.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “You want a pretty face, banging body, and a woman who will leave the moment you’re done with her. I’m not your gal.”

  Some of the easiness faded from his expression, and the hunter that made him crime lord material examined her more closely. “You think that’s all I want?”

  “For now,” she allowed. Maybe one day he’d want to settle down like Gavin. Maybe not.

  She prided herself on her ability to size up a person. Angel Roman was hot. Make that smoking hot. That was enough reason to make most women go stupid around him. Add the fact that he was rich, dangerous, and probably had the skills of an assassin, and he became irresistible. Most women would be fooled by his friendly, easygoing demeanor, but she grew up around men like him. There was something vicious and insatiable inside him. She wasn’t dumb enough to think she could tame it. She liked her men civilized with a naughty streak. She wouldn’t bend for an alpha male and had no wish to be in a one-sided relationship that would end in death or more heartache.

  “Don’t be so quick to judge me.” One of his hands left her bare back to play with the ends of her hair. He held it up to the light. “Looks like fresh-spilled blood.”

  She made a disgusted sound. “You’re such a crime lord.”

  “Does that turn you on?”

  “Nope,” she said with complete honesty.

  He leaned close enough for his warm breath to breeze across her lips. “You have a wild side, Carmen. I can taste it.”

  Her insides squirmed. Yes, he was good at this. But then again, so was she. She cupped the side of his pretty face and ran her thumb over his bottom lip. She felt him tense ever so slightly against her.

  “You can’t handle me, Roman.”

  He captured her thumb and sucked it into his mouth. She ignored the heat that speared straight to her lady bits. Holy fuck. No wonder men liked to stick their hands in women’s mouths. They were thinking about being sucked off… and so was she. His wicked blue eyes told her he would make her scream, and she believed him. From her position, she could tell he was packing and ready. It wasn’t fair. A man with a face like his should have a small dick.

  She ripped her thumb from his mouth. “That’s not fair! We can touch, but no sucking!” Sucking was too close to the actual act, and she needed to keep her wits together.

  “Who said I play fair?”

  “True. You are a Roman.”

  “Right. And we play to win.”

  He was clearly baiting her. It took every ounce of control she possessed not to challenge him. It would be monumentally stupid to get involved with the new crime lord and a Roman to boot. His eyes glinted in the dim light, enticing her to pit her will against his. He would be dirty, animalistic, raw… She bitch-slapped her inner hussy.

  “Not this time, baby,” she said and patted his cheek. She eased back and was relieved when he released her.

  His eyes swept her from head to toe. “Damn.”

  “Eat your heart out, Roman,” she said before she walked away.

  She perched on a stool at the bar to give her poor feet a rest. This time she ordered a water. She twisted off the cap and surveyed the club. It was impossible to find Shonda, Keenan, or any of the others in the crush. A compulsive beat hit the club, and the urge to dance was nearly irresistible, but she was half convinced she might not have feet tomorrow if she didn’t have mercy on them. Instead, she was forced to shimmy from a sitting position while she turned down men left and right.

  “No speak English,” she said in a heavy accent to an especially pushy guy.
>
  As the song faded and another began, she spotted Angel meander toward the VIP section. When he approached the wall of bouncers, Regal glanced over. When he spotted Angel, he leaped to his feet and pulled a black pistol from his pants.

  “Oh, fuck,” she hissed.

  Regal fired wildly and jumped off the VIP dais onto the dance floor. People fell like bowling pins. More shots were fired, and everyone scattered. She climbed on her stool as the crowd stampeded like wild animals toward the exit, pushing and shoving at the people they had been making out with seconds before. Angel and Regal were lost in the crowd, but she caught sight of the nerdy man who had been a part of Regal’s party hiding beneath the booth with his hands over his head.

  She kept her eyes on Regal’s assistant and moved when he did. She trailed behind him as he moved toward the exit. His eyes darted in every direction like a trapped rat. She made sure to keep him within arm’s length as they poured into the casino. He made went out front to grab a taxi. She used tears and a glance down her modest cleavage to snag a taxi. She made a show of seeing Regal’s assistant and waved to him.

  “Do you want to share a taxi?” she called and was grateful she still wore her mask. She wasn’t sure if Regal’s assistant would recognize her, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

  The assistant hesitated and looked around at the accumulating crowd before he ran toward her. “You don’t mind?”

  “No, let’s get out of here. This is scary!”

  They ducked into the cab and pulled away from the pandemonium in front of the casino. She waved her hands in front of her eyes as if she were fighting tears.

  “We can drop you off first,” she said in a small voice. “I’m not sure where I’m going to stay tonight. I have to call my friends. I don’t want to be alone after that. I can’t stand guns.” She gave an exaggerated shiver.

  Regal’s assistant gave the cabbie his address, and they were off. She texted Blade for Angel’s number and got an instant reply.

  No.

  She was amused rather than irritated. God, she loved Blade. He was like the disapproving uncle she never asked for. She liked pushing his buttons since he had no sense of humor.

  He caused a shooting at a club. I have info he needs.

  Her phone began to ring. She answered with a tearful, “Hi, Daddy.”

  A pause and then Blade snapped, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “T-there was a shooting at Incognito. I wasn’t doing drugs, Daddy, I swear.”

  Blade was silent for a moment, and then he hissed, “Where are you?”

  She sniffled. “Don’t be mad at me, okay? I wasn’t even drinking.”

  “You’re with someone, aren’t you? Fuck, Carmen, can’t you stay out of trouble for a fucking day? Goddamn.”

  “I don’t need this right now. I could have died, okay? Have you ever been shot at?” She milked her performance for all it was worth and felt tears trickle down her cheeks. “You’re being so mean. I can’t handle you right now.”

  She hung up on him as the cabbie turned on the radio just loud enough to conceal the sound of her pitiful whines. Blade texted her Angel’s number and an order.

  Call me as soon as you can.

  She replied with, Thanks, Daddy.

  She added Angel’s number to her contacts as the driver pulled up to the assistant’s house. She made a note of the address as Regal’s assistant bailed out of the cab and ran to his run-down home. She gave the driver her mother’s address and texted Shonda and Keenan to make sure they were okay. They replied immediately, saying they went to another club. She gave her apologies and said she’d party with them again soon.

  She paid the cabbie and walked up to her house while she dialed Angel’s number. He answered on the third ring.

  “Who is this?”

  The voice on the other end sounded menacing and definitely not like the man who danced with her half an hour ago. She paused with her keys in the front door.

  “Angel?” she asked to confirm.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Carmen. I got your number from Blade.”

  A pause and then, “He shouldn’t have done that.”

  No charm or clever lines now. Angel was in business mode. This was the crime lord, the heartless asshole. “Didn’t I tell you not to approach Regal?”

  He hung up on her. She sighed. Men and their egos. She walked into the dark and quiet house and tiptoed to her room as she redialed his number.

  “I’m busy,” he snapped.

  “So, you lost him?”

  Silence.

  “Why do you want Regal?”

  “This is underworld business.”

  “Do you want Regal or not?”

  “You know where he is?”

  “Why do you want him?” she persisted as she kicked off her heels and sighed in relief. God, that felt amazing.

  “Do you know where he is or not?”

  “I might.”

  “This isn’t a fucking game.”

  “I know,” she said as she put him on speaker and peeled off her dress. “That’s why I want to know why you want him.”

  A pause as he mulled that over. “He did a lot for Steven Vega; things you don’t need to know about.”

  That’s all she needed to know. “I’m going to text you his assistant’s address.”

  “Why the fuck would I care about his assistant?”

  “Because his assistant is actually his life partner. They’ve been together for years.”

  “Isn’t his assistant a man?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “But he fucks his whores.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waved a dismissive hand. She didn’t have time to dissect people’s sex lives. “He swings both ways, and he uses the women as a cover since he knows people wouldn’t respect him. His assistant is really his husband. Not legally, of course, but you know…”

  “How do you know this?”

  “This is my city, Roman. My father was an enforcer, and I married Vincent Pyre.”

  “How do you know the husband’s address?”

  “I caught a cab with him.”

  There was a stark silence on the other end. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I knew Regal would get away, and it must have been important if you’re looking for him.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “At home.”

  “Send me his address,” he said and hung up.

  “You’re welcome, asshole,” she muttered and texted the address.

  She called Blade, who answered halfway through the first ring.

  “How badly are you hurt?” he asked.

  “I’m dandy. Angel tried to approach Regal in a club. He bolted, of course. I caught a cab with his partner and gave Angel the address. No biggie.”

  She gaped at her reflection. Between partying like a rock star and her crying jag, her makeup had melted into a goopy mess that made her look like a nightmare.

  “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  “I know. I’m going to shower and go to bed. Thanks, Daddy.”

  She hung up before he could say anything else and hopped in the shower.

  7

  “Carmen?”

  Someone prodded her shoulder.

  “Carmen Marie, it’s your mother.”

  She rolled over and stared blearily at Mom. She wasn’t sure why her mom felt it was necessary to reiterate her title. She knew very well who she was. “Hello, Mother.”

  “I have cha-cha class in an hour. Want to come?”

  Her temples throbbed, but one look at her mom’s hopeful expression, and she caved. “Sure.”

  “Great!”

  As her mother bustled out of the room, she rolled out of bed and showered to revive herself. She found tangerine heels and a matching dress she hadn’t worn in years with sassy fringe on the hem. She put on a chunky turquoise necklace and couldn’t decide between three rings, so she decided to wear them all
. She posed for Vinny and gave him a kiss and an, “I love you,” before she met her mom in the kitchen.

  “I love your hair,” Mom said.

  “Thanks! I feel much better now.”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “I took a cab home. Can you drive me to the hotel after?”

  “Sure. Did you have fun last night?”

  “Yes. I went out with Shonda and a bunch of other people. I felt a little old dancing with young twenty-somethings, but it’s all good.”

  She snatched two bananas and a water bottle as she followed her mother out to the car. Her mother handed her the car keys, which she accepted without comment. Putting the old Toyota in gear filled her with nostalgia.

  “You doing good, Mama?” she asked as she ate the banana and drove.

  “Of course.”

  Her mother’s friends bullied her into participating in so many classes and clubs that her mother was barely home. She appeared to be happy, but she wanted to make sure.

  “Do you need money?” she asked as she pulled into a Starbucks drive-through.

  Mom patted her knee. “No, thanks, honey.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I have what I need.”

  “You’d tell me if you didn’t, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, what do you want to drink?”

  By the time they entered dance class, she was ready to cha-cha her ass off. She was the youngest person in the class, but that didn’t bother her in the least. She hugged and kissed her mother’s friends and was bathed in their heavy perfume. Everyone was friendly and welcoming. There were only a handful of men in the class. They made a big show of kissing her hand and making jokes like, “If I was forty years younger, baby, you’d have to make a run for it.”

  She was pleased to discover that she hadn’t overdressed. The room was a colorful mix of dresses, heels, and scarves. These women were dressed to impress. The instructors started the class with a walking step, which was torturously slow, but she passed the time by getting to know her rascal dance partner, Marv, a widower with two sons and a daughter in college. The class started to get more interesting when the instructors added side steps and rock steps. The pace picked up, and her brow became slick with sweat. Holy cow, no wonder her mom looked forty. Geez. She needed to get back to her stripper workout classes. This cha-cha class was kicking her ass.

 

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