by Sam Mariano
No. No, this isn’t right. He’s playing a game. Maybe they both are. They both must be, because she’s here.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Connecticut?” I finally ask her.
“I didn’t make my flight,” she informs me.
My patience snaps. Sin was supposed to take her to the airport—I gave him direct orders to take her to the fucking airport. At what point in that drive did he decide to disregard my orders and fuck her instead? Here I was, feeling like an asshole, thinking she was upset, and when Sin was telling me he’d get me her number in the morning because he was going to bed, he meant with her. How dare he encroach upon my fucking territory like that?
“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” I tell Sin.
Unconcerned, he flips open his menu. “Two, last time I checked.”
I roll out my shoulders, struggling to recover from this fucking sucker punch. I don’t know how I’m supposed to sit here like everything is normal when Sin is pulling some shit, Laurel is sitting next to me, and the date I brought with me is suddenly the only person at the table I’m not interested in. In most circumstances, I wouldn’t feel so vile sitting between two women I’ve fucked, but right now, I am not comfortable with it. Maybe because one of them tried to tell me she’s pregnant with my baby, and now she’s sitting here apparently on a date with my motherfucking enforcer.
Ex-enforcer, if my temper doesn’t simmer down by the time this godforsaken meal is over. Disregarding my fucking orders, keeping my girl in the city behind my back, springing shit like this on me without so much as a “fuck you.”
And her—where the hell does she get off? This is my town. If she’s not with me, she has no business being here—and I don’t want her with me, because she’s a fucking liar, but I damn sure don’t want her with Sin when the sight of them touching makes me lose my appetite.
Turning to face Laurel again, I can’t resist throwing a jab. “So, are you planning to fuck your way through my crew now, since you can’t have the top dog?”
Laurel looks briefly stunned, then she bursts into laughter. Grasping her chest, she draws my gaze to her lovely breasts, jiggling as she laughs her ass off.
Sin glares at me initially, but then he is as confused as I am by Laurel’s laughter. She should be offended. I wanted to make her feel bad, not amuse the hell out of her.
“Oh,” she finally says, wiping the corners of her eyes. “Oh, wow. That was really funny, Rafe.” She places a hand on my arm, her eyes glowing with pleasure, still leaking mirth. “I didn’t realize you were funny.”
I damn sure wasn’t trying to be. Now I’m just fucking insulted.
Laurel chuckles to herself again, shaking her head like she can’t quite get over my joke as she flips open the menu. “Oh, man,” she breathes, still struggling to get her shit together.
I wasn’t joking. What part of that did she take to be so fucking hilarious? “You know what I find funny?”
Laurel pushes a wave of chocolate hair behind her ear. “No—and to be honest, I don’t care.” Instead of waiting for that to land, she turns further into Sin’s embrace and leans in to murmur something to him, pointing at a spot on the menu. Sin nods and she smiles in response.
What did she say? Why are they exchanging looks and touches and fucking glances like… like…
…Like we were, over Easter.
For a moment that feels much worse than it should, the thought crosses my mind that perhaps Laurel isn’t putting on a show for me. Perhaps Laurel and Sin really have built a rapport in just a couple days, the same way we did back in Chicago. Laurel was affectionate with me right away, not slow to warm up. Laurel is young and relatively unguarded, not yet scarred and dirtied up by the world. It doesn’t take a whole hell of a lot to tap into her interest. I think of Sin as a violent asshole, but sure, I suppose he has a certain appeal. Given his obvious disinterest, most women who were once drawn to him recognized him as the lost cause he was and gave up, but Laurel doesn’t know Sin’s past, and she did sort of reach out to him from the start.
That first night she was here, even before I was an asshole to her, when I still had her—literally—in the palm of my hand, she went out of her way to be nice to Sin. His roughness didn’t put her off. Even if it made her momentarily uncomfortable, she kept trying. Maybe Sin liked that. Maybe he didn’t bring her here to fuck with me—maybe he brought her here because he likes her. Yesterday he told me I should call Laurel before someone else did—what if he meant himself?
Why does that possibility cause unease to slither down my torso and settle in my gut?
This is what jealousy feels like. Goddammit, I am experiencing jealousy.
Fuck Sin. Doesn’t matter if he likes her or he’s just fucking with me for some reason, he had no right. Doesn’t matter that she was never officially mine; Laurel falls firmly within the bounds of my territory.
I need to steal her back.
It’s not logical. I know I didn’t even want to keep her two nights ago when I had her right there, and nothing about our situation has changed. She’s still a fucking liar, but now she’s the little liar who is sitting next to me with my fucking friend, with my employee, like she’s right where she wants to be. Maybe seeing me with Jayla makes her uncomfortable, but as she sits here rubbing Sin’s arm and perusing the menu, it’s clear it didn’t ruin her fucking night, either.
I call bullshit. My fickle little kitten wanted my cock two nights ago, and now here she sits with him, laughing at me when I point out the fact.
I’ll give her little ass something to laugh about.
Grabbing her arm, I pull her away from Sin and closer to me so I can lean in and tell her, “You and I need to talk, right now.”
“I’m all ears,” she replies, not taking her eyes off her menu.
“In private,” I add, barely able to keep my tone civil.
Now she turns that little body into me, and warmth moves through me. It feels like victory and happiness and everything good—at least, until she leans in further, her warm breath tickling my neck, and whispers, “I don’t have anything to say to you in private, Rafe.”
My jaw locks. “Well, I have something to say to you.”
“I’m gonna pass,” she whispers, before scooting her little ass away from me and back toward Sin like she prefers his company to mine.
Is she for fucking real right now? I’m the head of this outfit; he’s just the fucking muscle. She’s known him for two fucking days.
Okay, I guess prior to this whole catastrophe she only knew me for four, but… well, at the risk of sounding blithely petulant, I was there first.
My fingers lock around her arm before I even realize my intent and I yank her back against me. She starts at the force I use and her big, blue eyes jump to mine, a trace of wariness surfacing. That’s much better. Be afraid, little kitten, because I’m going to turn your life upside down if you think you can deny me.
Still grasping her arm, I pull her against my hard body and lean in, murmuring against her ear, “No doesn’t really work for me, kitten. Did you already forget?”
Her breath catches, and I feel the burn of victory. Her cocky little bullshit from a minute ago doesn’t hold up under my touch, and that’s why I need to get her alone.
“Don’t call me that,” she murmurs, lowly.
“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please,” I tell her, running my fingers down her arm lightly.
“Plutonium.”
I narrow my eyes at the sound of her safe word, my fingers halting and tightening around her bicep. “We’re not in the bedroom. Plutonium doesn’t work outside the bedroom.”
“Get your hands off me, Rafe,” she says, looking over her shoulder at me. Her blue eyes are turbulent and intense—whatever I make her feel, she’s determined to ignore it. Taking it a step further, she tries harder to shove me away with snippy words. “This is ridiculous. You made your feelings for me perfectly clear. You’re here with a date, for god’s
sake. You only want to play now because you see someone else having fun with the toy you discarded.”
Only now I’m not offended. I’ve had just enough time to get my bearings, and I can see things clearly, not from behind a veil of primitive, territorial rage. Now I see the desperation just beneath the surface she’s trying so hard to present.
I refuse to believe she’s really interested in Sin. She’s using him to try to get my attention back, and while normally I would be turned off by such a desperate method, right now all I feel is relief.
My kitten hasn’t found a new owner; she’s just dragging her claws down my leg, begging for my attention.
16
Laurel
We’re going out. Wear something sexy.
That was all Sin said to me when he unlocked my cuffs and let me out of bed this evening. Naturally, he neglected to tell me that the place we were going was the second circle of Hell, and that Rafe would be there with a date.
I may have opted to stay in the bed had I known.
But here I am, sandwiched between Sin and Rafe with Rafe’s date trying desperately to ignore the varying levels of tension rolling off him in waves. A couple days ago, I might have cared. Right now this asshole is toying with me just to do it, and I don’t think that’s fair to Sin. Admittedly, a date with the man who chains me to a bed every night to make sure I don’t escape is ill-advised, but what the hell? Despite my logical assertions about what a terrible idea any level of involvement with Sin is, when he told me we were going out tonight, it excited me. When it comes down to it, I much prefer letting Sin take me out on the town over spending the night locked away in his room so he can go out without me.
The whole time I got ready for my entirely unexpected date, I told myself not to make too much of it. Just because we’re going out in public together one time doesn’t mean anything will change once we get home. Just because it’s basically a date doesn’t mean it has to end like one.
I won’t pretend those thoughts didn’t cross my mind, because they did. Without knowing where we were going, I focused on the parts I could anticipate. Like coming home at the end of the date, walking up Sin’s sidewalk, wondering if he might kiss me. Knowing ahead of time that I would be spending the night at his house, I even wondered if he would take more than a kiss. It stands to reason he might have a drink or two while we’re out, and last night when he came home after drinking, he started to flirt with me. Sure, he let that moment pass, but maybe his resolve is weakening. Maybe he is attracted to me and this date is him deciding to go for it. Even though it’s definitely a bad idea, maybe I’ll let him. I’m already pregnant, so this fling can’t go sideways in the same way the last one did.
This week is halfway over anyway, so there’s not much time left. Whatever trouble I’m going to get into, I better do it expediently. Sin still hasn’t let me call Carly, and at a certain point, all these unanswered calls are going to turn into action. My sister doesn’t look like a force to be reckoned with, but she really is. She harnessed a volatile Morelli, after all.
Now Rafe is sitting here, his intense brown eyes trained on me while Jayla prattles on about this great advice she gave her girlfriend back in Los Angeles. I stopped listening to her a while ago, and to be honest, so did everyone else. I’m surprised I’m so in tune with him, but maybe because Sin’s arm is draped over my shoulders, I can feel the tension in him, too. Rafe is emitting it like a beacon, but in Sin, it’s only detectable in the way his body feels against mine. It’s an absurd instinct, but I want to ease it out of him.
I don’t even know if that’s my place, but the spot seems to be open, he draped his arm around me and offered enough of an invitation, so I respond to the need I sense in him.
My hand settles on his thigh, but instead of calming him, he tenses up more. “Do you know what you’re getting?” I murmur.
“Fired,” he offers back, dryly.
I fail to stile a smile. “He’s not going to fire you.”
“Move your hand back a couple inches and we’ll see.”
Just to be a hellion, I do.
Sin’s fingers close around my wrist and he shoots me a hard look. “Troublemaker.”
“Hey, you offered,” I reply airily, using my other hand to flip the page on the menu. “Is he paying? If he’s paying, we should order the lobster rolls.”
Sin rolls his eyes. “I can buy you fucking lobster rolls; I don’t need him to pay for you.”
“Well, no, I don’t actually want lobster rolls, I just feel like being petty. He’s being such a dick tonight. And the other night. He’s just a dick in general, so I want to exercise financial retribution in the form of my dinner order.”
“You’re gonna have to order a lot of lobster rolls, in that case,” Sin advises.
I lift my hand from his thigh, turning to sweep a hand out toward the restaurant floor. “Lobster rolls for everyone.”
Smiling and shaking his head, Sin squeezes my side. “Quiet, you.”
Jayla’s voice suddenly gets louder, so I stop tuning her out to see why. The look on her face says she’s gazing at something adorable, but she’s looking at us. “You guys are the cutest couple I’ve ever seen,” she announces, hand to heart. “Seriously. Couple goals.”
Rafe rolls his eyes and mutters, “Oh, for the love of Christ.”
Swatting his arm, she says, “They are. I can’t handle it. This is exactly what I was talking about when I told my girl Becky to leave her asswipe boyfriend. I don’t care if they have two kids together. I said, Becky, those boys are going to look to you to see how a relationship should be, and if you let him treat you that way, that’s how they’re going to think women should be treated. You get the hell out of there and go find yourself a man who treats you the way you want those boys to treat their own women.”
I haven’t been listening to her story, but I actually agree with that advice, so I nod my head. “It sounds like you’re a good advice-giver, Jayla. I’ll make sure to reach out to you, should I ever need any.”
Leaning in to whisper in my ear, Sin asks, “Do you think she’d advise you to run if she knew I cuffed you to my bed every night?”
Glancing at Jayla in consideration, I shake my head. “Nah, Jayla’s a smart cookie; she’d probably just tell you to cuff my ankles too, really do the job right.”
His delivery is as dry as ever, but I think I detect a joke when he says, “She can’t be too smart; she’s here with Rafe, isn’t she?”
“Ha, nice,” I say, holding up my hand for a high five.
He takes my hand and pushes it back down to his thigh instead of returning the high five. I can’t find a reason to complain.
I know it’s a bad, bad, bad idea, but I hope this is a real date. I’m enjoying this burst of familiarity and affection. I know it can’t go anywhere long-term, but for all I know it’s a bad idea, I can’t help being tempted by the prospect of enjoying Sin while I’m here. A brief respite before I return to my boring life and the world of exceedingly average men.
The server comes over to take our drink and appetizer order. Jayla is still going over the drinks. She’s clearly friendly, because even though my past with Rafe must be unclear to her with all the arm-grabbing and intense whispers, she still talks to me like we’re pals. I love that. This could be weird—I mean, it is weird, but it could be worse. She could be catty on top of Rafe being an asshole.
I can’t help noticing Rafe doesn’t order for her, though. Ordering for a woman who is out with you probably isn’t a normal thing to expect, but he did order for me when Vince and Carly were here with us. Carly rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might fall out of her head, but I didn’t mind it. It actually struck me as sort of sexy. Being as attentive as he is, he didn’t order anything I didn’t want, and I liked the way he took charge. I understand not everyone would feel the same way, though. Maybe he has already tried that with Jayla and she wasn’t into it… or maybe he just doesn’t care to. Does that mean he liked me more
? What is it that determines whether or not he orders for a woman or lets her do it herself?
He catches me looking at him as I ruminate on his ordering habits and I curse myself. Of course I see the faint upward climb of his smug, stupid mouth. Now he surely thinks I’m over here thinking about him. Which I guess I was, but in an academic way, not in any other way.
I wish I could correct his assumption without coming off as ultra-defensive, but I can’t. Oh well. It doesn’t really matter what he thinks. I’ll be out of Sin City before long and I’ll never step foot in Nevada again. Rafe Morelli is irrelevant to my life.
“And a Limoncello cocktail for you, right?” the server asks, glancing at me.
My jaw drops open. It’s the same server who waited on us before, but it’s been two whole months since I came here with Rafe; surely he’s brought dozens more girls in since. “You remember my order?”
She taps her head. “Steel trap.”
“I am impressed. But no, just water for me tonight, thank you.”
“Oh, come on,” Jayla says, leaning forward. “Have a drink with me. We’re gonna hit the club after this. I don’t know about you, but I believe I dance better drunk, and if I believe it, it must be true.”
Cracking a smile, Rafe says, “Yes, that’s Laurel’s philosophy as well.”
Meeting Rafe’s gaze, I ask, “Does anyone ever just walk up to you and punch you in the face? They should.”
“No one would dare,” he informs me.
“I would,” I tell him.
“You should,” he says. “I’d love a reason to sic Sin on you.”
“Ooh, so would I,” I tell him. “That sounds sexy.”
Shaking his head at my apparent idiocy, he says, “You wouldn’t enjoy it, believe me.”
Lifting my eyebrows nonchalantly, I tell him, “Well, I might believe you, but I never got on that plane to Connecticut, now, did I?”
Now Sin’s hand is on my thigh. “Down, girl.”
Too late. Rafe frowns, looking over at Sin. “Yeah. Remind me why I didn’t penalize you for that.”