Sin

by Deborah Bladon

  FIRST ORIGINAL EDITION, SEPTEMBER 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Deborah Bladon

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual person’s, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 9781723367212

  ISBN-10: 1723367214

  eBook ISBN: 9781926440521

  Book & cover design by Wolf & Eagle Media

  www.deborahbladon.com

  Also by Deborah Bladon

  THE OBSESSED SERIES

  THE EXPOSED SERIES

  THE PULSE SERIES

  THE VAIN SERIES

  THE RUIN SERIES

  IMPULSE

  SOLO

  THE GONE SERIES

  FUSE

  THE TRACE SERIES

  CHANCE

  THE EMBER SERIES

  THE RISE SERIES

  HAZE

  SHIVER

  TORN

  THE HEAT SERIES

  MELT

  THE TENSE DUET

  SWEAT

  TROUBLEMAKER

  WORTH

  HUSH

  BARE

  WISH

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Epilogue

  Preview of LACE

  Preview of THIRST

  Thank you

  Deborah’s Mailing List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Linny

  “If this is how you dress on Monday morning, I’d love to get a glimpse of you on Saturday night.”

  I close my eyes even tighter. There’s no way he’s talking to anyone but me.

  His breath inches over the skin of my neck as he whispers, “Just because you can’t see me, doesn’t mean I can’t see you.”

  I thought he was fast asleep.

  When I boarded this flight in New York City two hours ago, the man in the seat next to me was already belted in and silent.

  It took me a few minutes to realize that his eyes were shut beneath the dark sunglasses he was wearing.

  I used that to my advantage. I spent the first half hour of the flight blatantly staring at him.

  Broad shoulders, day-old stubble covering his jaw, brown hair that is messed up just enough to promise a sexy, bad-boy beneath the tailored gray suit, black dress shirt and expensive tie.

  “I’m West.” His deep baritone voice rumbles through every part of me.

  If I could orgasm just from a man’s voice, this would be the one.

  “And you are?” he continues talking even though I’m clearly not responding to him. “You’re not asleep. You can stop pretending you are.”

  I bite the bullet and open my eyes. I turn to look at him.

  Holy hell.

  I thought this man was hot when he was wearing sunglasses.

  His warm brown eyes add another dimension to how devastatingly gorgeous he is.

  “What’s your name?” He looks into my green eyes before his gaze travels over my shoulder length brown hair.

  I turn my head so I’m facing forward again. I was the odd woman out when my friends and I decided to take this trip to Las Vegas. After a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, they lucked out and are sitting next to each other in the third row.

  I was stuck with this aisle seat in the first row next to this stranger.

  I can’t decide if that’s a bad thing or a very good thing.

  “We’ll revisit the name issue.” He slides his hand to the armrest until it’s just mere inches from mine. “I need a vodka.”

  “It’s ten in the morning,” I point out.

  I catch a side glimpse of him sliding up the sleeve of his suit jacket to look at a silver watch. “In New York. It’s three in the afternoon in London so cheers.”

  The flight attendant is pushing a glass of clear liquid into his hand before I can absorb what he just said.

  First class definitely comes with perks.

  “Can I get you anything?” She looks me over trying to hide the smirk that’s tugging at her lips.

  One dose of self-esteem with a chaser of courage, please.

  I wish that were on the drink menu.

  “She’ll take one of these,” West says.

  “I don’t day drink.” I glance in his direction again.

  “You’re fucking kidding me.” He lets out a husky laugh. “You were sober when you got dressed this morning?”

  I look down at the tight white tank top, bright pink tutu and white high heels I’m wearing.

  Thank God I tucked the tiara that was on my head back into my bag after my friends took their seats.

  “I’m not the only one dressed like this.” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “There are two other women on this flight dressed just like me.”

  The plan we hatched a week ago seemed sane at the time.

  Our mutual friend, Kendra, is set to marry her fiancé in less than a month. Since we’re all bridesmaids, we thought it would be fun to plan a one-night-only bachelorette party.

  Unfortunately, the only night our schedules synced up was tonight.

  We told the bride-to-be to meet us at the airport in Vegas since her flight from Atlanta lands thirty minutes before our flight. She has no idea that we’ll all be dressed in the same over-the-top outfit she wore in the pictures she posted to social media to announce her engagement.

  That part of the plan was not my idea. I was outvoted. Twice.

  “I don’t care about them.” He leans so close to me that his lips almost touch mine. “Something tells me that you’re the one who is unforgettable.”

  How in the hell is this happening? This handsome stranger is flirting with me while I’m dressed like I’m about to hit up a Halloween party.

  “Do you want a vodka or not, Miss?” The flight attendant interrupts the moment with her snippy tone and unwelcome question.

  West doesn’t break our gaze as he polishes off his drink in one swallow. “Bring this angel a glass of vodka and a glass of orange juice. She’d like both.”

  I’d like neither, but I’m too stunned to form any words. Angel ? Did he just call me an angel?

  My gaze drifts to the flight attendant a
s she takes his empty glass and then steps toward the galley. When she disappears from view I turn and lock eyes with West again. “I was serious when I said I don’t drink during the day.”

  “You’re headed to Sin City.” He glances briefly out the window next to him at the blue sky and wispy clouds. “You’re missing out on half the fun if you don’t drink before the sun sets.”

  I attempt to smooth down the tulle of my skirt, but it’s useless. It’s just my luck to meet the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on when I’m wearing this getup. Why can’t I cross paths with a man like this when I’m tucked into one of the tailored suits or dresses that are waiting for me back in my closet in Manhattan?

  I feel a sudden need to explain my current wardrobe choice to him. “I don’t usually dress like this. I’m meeting someone at the airport and this is part of the surprise.”

  He studies me, his gaze focused on my face. “The other two women you mentioned are in on this?”

  I nod, feeling a spark of relief that he’s seeing a glimpse of who I really am. I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me, but I don’t want him walking off this airplane with the impression that I’m a woman who parties non-stop in Vegas.

  “That’s one lucky bastard you’re meeting,” he says smoothly with a lift of his brow.

  The flight attendant appears again with two glasses in her hands. She places them both down on the wide armrest between West and me.

  “Do you and your angel need anything else, West?” Sarcasm laces every single one of her words.

  “Not at the moment, Sara, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

  I glance at the two glasses as she walks away before I turn my attention back to him. “I’m not drinking either of those and for the record, I’m going to Vegas to celebrate with my friends. There’s no lucky bastard waiting for me there.”

  His lips curve up in an almost smile. “You’re wrong about that. There will be a lucky bastard waiting for you tonight at the Echo Resort and Casino. It’s on the strip.”

  My gaze darts over his face. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m staying there.” He downs the vodka in my glass in one swallow. “I’ll be in room 2626. When you’re done with your day of celebration, join me for a night of sin.”

  I laugh. “I’m not that type of woman…I mean, I don’t and I can’t.”

  What I really mean is that I’ve never spent a night with a man I don’t know, but I’m not about to confess that to a complete stranger.

  He looks down at where my hands are laced together in my lap. “I don’t see a ring. Are you married? Engaged? In a relationship?”

  “No, no and no,” I spit back before I pick up the glass of orange juice and drink it all. I wish to hell I had gotten my hands on the vodka before he did. “Are you in a relationship?”

  “If I were in a relationship, I wouldn’t have invited you to my room.” He tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You know what they say about Vegas.”

  “That what happens there stays there?” I don’t move back from his touch even though my common sense is screaming at me to turn around and stop talking to him.

  “You can live out every fantasy you have there, and no one will be the wiser.” The pad of his thumb brushes my bottom lip. “You’ll go on with your life tomorrow. I’ll go on with mine and you’ll have a Vegas memory you’ll never forget.”

  They aren’t just sweet words meant to tempt me. There’s a promise there too. I see it in the way he’s looking at me.

  “Miss?” Sara, the flight attendant, is standing at my side, her fingers strumming over my shoulder. “Your friends have persuaded the man sitting across the aisle from them to switch seats with you. Normally, I wouldn’t be so accommodating, but I’m willing to make an exception this one time.”

  Dammit.

  I unbuckle my seatbelt. Two hours ago I wanted desperately to sit closer to my friends. Now, I’d be happy staying in place until the plane lands.

  “It was a pleasure.” West lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it softly. “I’ll see you tonight, angel.”

  I stand, smiling softly. It’s not a question. It’s an assumption. As tempting as his invitation is, I doubt I’ll ever see this man again. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s already given me a memory that I’ll cherish for a lifetime.

  Chapter 2

  Linny

  “Can we change before we go to dinner?” I glance down at the wrinkled tank top and the tulle skirt that now has a tattered hem. I don’t have to look in a mirror to know that I resemble a wreck. The plastic tiara on my head isn’t doing my appearance any favors.

  The only consolation is that we’re in a casino and since this is Vegas, we haven’t gotten more than a half dozen second glances. Most people have passed us by without even looking in our direction.

  Kendra Baldwin, the soon-to-be-bride, shakes her head vehemently as she scans a row of blackjack tables. “You can’t possibly know how much it means to me that my three best friends went to all this trouble. Besides, I’m the one who looks the most ridiculous out of all of us.”

  I quickly glance at my fellow bridesmaids, Harmony Curry and Priscilla Mata. They’re dressed in outfits that match my own. The only difference between the three of us is Harmony’s shirt. She’s bunched the front of it into a knot just below her breasts so she can show off her toned stomach.

  Kendra looks like a dream in a short white lace dress. There’s a pink sash draped over her shoulder with the words The Bride written in red lettering. That’s courtesy of Priscilla. She had it tucked in her suitcase.

  The tiara propped atop Kendra’s long red locks is semi-real. It was a gift from a long lost relative of hers that descended from royalty. It’s crafted from silver and a handful of small diamonds that are lost among the dozens of round cubic zirconia stones that sparkle in any available light.

  Harmony insisted that Kendra bring the tiara to Las Vegas. She told her that she wanted to get a closer look at it after seeing it in the engagement picture. It was all part of our plan to surprise her. Harmony demanded that Kendra wear it as soon as we got to our hotel earlier. It hasn’t left her head since.

  “You look like triplets.” Kendra takes a sip of the margarita in her hand. Priscilla ordered it an hour ago. It’s in a plastic souvenir cup that’s shaped like the Eiffel Tower in honor of Kendra’s honeymoon destination. She’ll be jetting off to Paris the day after the wedding for a weeklong adventure in the City of Lights.

  Harmony steals a quick glance at Priscilla and me. “We’re all brunettes. We’re all wearing the same outfit. That’s where the similarities end.”

  She’s right.

  “I choked up the minute I saw the three of you in the airport this morning.” Kendra’s voice quivers. “Maybe you don’t look like triplets, but you do look like the three best friends a girl could ever ask for.”

  Those words held more weight eight years ago than they do today. That was before we graduated from our Manhattan high school. Back then on the last day of classes, Kendra made the three of us a promise that we’d be bridesmaids in her wedding.

  I was sure she’d forgotten about it until she called me the day after her engagement to remind me that I would be in her bridal party, standing alongside Harmony and Priscilla. Kendra’s sister, Daphne, is the matron-of-honor. The only reason she’s not living it up in Vegas with us tonight is she gave birth to her first baby a week ago.

  The sound of a slot machine ringing an alarm blares in the distance. We all steal a quick glance in that direction. It’s a sign of someone’s luck. Unfortunately, the four of us didn’t fare as well. We each brought extra money to Vegas to play the slots, but one-by-one we left our machines empty-handed. I only lost twenty dollars. Kendra’s toll so far is seventy-five dollars gone.

  “You didn’t even notice us when we got off the plane, Kendra.” Priscilla sighs. “You had your back turned to us and didn’t hear me when I called your name. What the hell were you staring a
t?”

  Kendra’s cheeks turn pink as her gaze drops to the carpeted floor. “I shouldn’t say.”

  That’s Kendra code for push me to confess .

  She used the same line on us back in twelfth grade when we cornered her at lunch to ask if she’d hooked up with Danny Keller after prom. She had. She’s marrying him less than a month from now.

  ‘ I shouldn’t say’ has been her go-to every time she’s wanted to tell us something but needs some subtle persuasion to get the words out.

  “What were you looking at, Kendra?” I ask in a gentle tone. “You know you can tell us. We’re bound to secrecy.”

  We’re not bound to anything but the ties of our friendship. They’re still solid, although time and distance have weakened them. This is the first time the four of us have been together since Priscilla’s wedding two years ago. Before that, we reunited the day Harmony said I do.

  Although Harmony lives in New Jersey and Priscilla calls upstate New York her home now, we rarely get together. Their lives consist of husbands, kids and their careers. Their free time is precious and even though they’re on summer break right now, it still took some coaxing to get them to agree to drop everything to jet off to Vegas for twenty-four hours.

  “Do you all know what a hall pass is?” Kendra asks, her tone soft.

  Priscilla rolls her eyes. “I thought we agreed not to talk shop in front of Linny. She doesn’t understand teacher lingo the way the three of us do.”

  I shake my head causing the tiara to shift slightly. It felt like Kendra jammed the plastic combs on the sides of it into my scalp when she put it back on my head after I took it off two hours ago.

  “It’s not teacher lingo,” I scoff, irritated that Priscilla has once again found a way to remind me that I didn’t follow the same career path as the three of them. They all teach in grade schools. I work in advertising. “Kendra is talking about a sexual hall pass.”

  “A what?” Priscilla’s brow furrows. “What the hell is a sexual hall pass?”

  “Someone you’re allowed to fuck if you get the chance,” Harmony pipes up. “Mine is Trey Hale, the baseball player. Rueben’s is Libby Duncan, the Broadway actress.”