Sinful Intent

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Sinful Intent Page 8

by Chelle Bliss


  “I have an appointment with my realtor.”

  She sighed before sitting up. “You better go, then.” She let the sheets fall from her body as she smirked.

  I stared at her chest as my morning boner grew larger, ready to break off. “I have a little time.” I leaned forward. “Do you?” I murmured against her skin.

  “I can make time.”

  “I see that look in your eye,” I told her, sweeping my tongue across her neck.

  “Morgan,” she whispered, her voice breathy, “just fuck me and shut up.”

  I bit down on her neck. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

  “Shh,” she whispered, palming my dick. “Less talking.”

  I fucked Race one more time before I left. I didn’t know if it would be the last time I’d have her. I memorized every angle, storing it away for later.

  I walked outside on unsteady legs, perfectly spent.

  Things had shifted between us, and my life seemed to be falling into place.

  Maybe I was reading more into it than I should’ve been. But there’s a look I know, one that conveys every emotion that’s left unspoken. I saw it in her eyes.

  She wanted to know me as much as I wanted to find out who the real Race True was, and it made me happy.

  I walked down the driveway and climbed in my car, savoring the memory of her calling my name.

  Life was good.

  Chapter Twelve

  Oh God

  Race

  Oh my God. I fucked Morgan DeLuca.

  Actually, he’d fucked me, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I’d loved every minute of it.

  He’d cuddled me too. Held me in his arms all night, and I fucking loved it.

  “What’s that grin about?” Cara asked as she walked into my office.

  “Oh, nothing,” I sang, rocking back and forth in my chair.

  “I’ve worked for you long enough to know you,” she said, cocking an eyebrow as she started to tidy my desk.

  Cara had been assigned to me my first day on the job. As I’d climbed the ranks, she’d come with me and remained forever loyal. I didn’t think it could be possible to have a better secretary than her. More importantly, she was my best friend, and I always confided in her.

  She glanced at me. “It’s that man, isn’t it?”

  “Who?” I asked, my voice squeaking.

  “You’ve had two meetings now with that man from the investigation company.”

  “He’s nice,” I said, fidgeting with my pen.

  “Sure,” she said. “Why are you so red now that I’ve mentioned him?” She tilted her head, smirking.

  “It’s hot in here.”

  “It’s not. So, you like him?” she asked. “Have you kissed him?”

  “Cara,” I said, trying not to smile.

  She shook her head and giggled. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever he’s done, I like seeing you happy.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered, unable to look her in the eye.

  “Don’t forget what today is,” she told me as she grabbed a stack of folders from the outgoing bin on the bureau.

  “I know.” I sighed as a knot formed in my stomach.

  “Did you want me to grab some flowers for you?” she asked, stopping at the door.

  “No. I’ll do it,” I told her, shaking my head. “Why don’t you leave early today? There’s no reason for you to work on the weekends with me, Cara.”

  “I like spending time with you, Race. You know that. My kids are grown, my husband passed, and I can’t just sit at home all day. I’d go crazy.”

  “Well, I love having you around, Cara. You’re more than just my secretary.”

  “I know, kid. I know. I think you should take the day off too.” She held the door open as she balanced the stack of files in her arms.

  I glanced over my desk, realizing I didn’t have anything else to do. “I’ll head out soon.”

  “See you Monday,” she said before leaving.

  “Monday,” I repeated, grabbing my purse and following her into the lobby.

  * * *

  Today was the anniversary of my father’s death.

  Where did fifteen years go?

  Even though time had passed, the soul-crushing sadness of losing my dad hadn’t diminished. Every day I thought about him. There were times when I missed him more than others, but there wasn’t a moment that passed that I didn’t long to be in his arms.

  Tears fell from my eyes, plopping on the grass as I stood in front of his grave. “Daddy,” I whispered as I collapsed into the grass. “I’m so sorry,” I wailed, covering my face. “I should’ve come sooner.”

  As each year passed, I came to visit less and less. The guilt I experienced when I came sucked the life out of me. I couldn’t spend my weekends here, feeling the weight of his death on my shoulders.

  He had been my entire world, and the only one in my family who had shown me unconditional love. He’d brought me everywhere with him, much to my mother’s dismay. We’d secretly snuck to the racetrack on weekends, enjoying our time out of the city together.

  My dad had been my best friend. There was nothing I’d loved more than being his little girl. When he died, a piece of me was buried with him.

  My mother grew more hateful with each passing day. By the time I’d gone to college, we’d stopped speaking. Really, I’d stopped talking to her because I couldn’t take her bullshit anymore. Somehow she’d come to the conclusion that it was my fault my father had died.

  He died instantly one day after work when he’d come to pick me up from school. She’d said that his need to make me happy by not requiring me to take the school bus was the cause. Not the semi that had plowed through the back of his SUV, but me. In her mind, I was the one who killed him.

  After placing the flowers on his grave, I pushed myself up and kissed his headstone. “I love you, Daddy,” I whispered, another wave of sobs breaking free.

  I would’ve given anything to hear him call my name again.

  I knew loss.

  It was part of me.

  My father was my first love—and the first one to leave me behind.

  Everyone left me.

  I couldn’t let myself feel anything for Morgan. I didn’t think I could take another heartbreak without losing myself completely in the blackness.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Family Dinner

  Morgan

  “How’s work going?” Uncle Sal asked.

  “Good. Good.”

  “He’s been a huge help, Pop.” Thomas gave me a brief nod. “We really needed him. Hell, we still could use a few guys to help pick up the slack.”

  “It’s always good to be in demand, son.”

  I should’ve felt guilty about Friday night, but I didn’t. I didn’t regret a moment I’d spent with Race.

  “Yeah. James and I are throwing around a couple names of people we could recruit to join us,” Thomas said as he put his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Anyone I know?” Uncle Sal asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “You do, but I don’t want to talk about work today. I’m still trying to convince James that he’s the right man for the job.”

  “Oh. Sam?” he asked.

  James mashed his hands together and gritted his teeth. “You know I hate him.”

  Thomas looked over at James and grinned. “We’ve already been over this.”

  “Have you talked to your mom today, Morgan?” Auntie Mar asked as she walked into the living room.

  “Not today. Something happen?” I asked as my heart began to beat erratically.

  “She said she’d be here by next weekend.” She smiled as she sat on the arm of the couch.

  “Great,” I said in a quiet voice through closed teeth.

  “You’re a horrible liar.” Auntie Mar hit me with the kitchen towel.

  I sighed. “I love her, but the woman is so overbearing sometimes.”

  “We’re mothers. We’re supposed to be.”
>
  That was always the excuse my mother gave me. It was their job to be annoying and nosy as hell.

  “But it would be nice if she could let go just a little.”

  Aunt Mar laughed. “Never going to happen,” she said before she stood and headed back to the kitchen.

  Joe nudged me with his elbow. “You just have to learn how to handle them.”

  “Yep,” Mike agreed from the chair in the corner, nodding slowly.

  “Pretend like you’re listening and learn to ignore her. That’s what I do with Ma.” Anthony pulled his wife, Max, into his lap.

  “I can hear you!” Auntie Mar yelled from the kitchen.

  “Ma isn’t that bad,” Thomas added.

  All eyes turned to him.

  “That’s because you were gone so long. If it weren’t for that, you’d get the same bullshit we all do,” Joe said quietly as his eyes darted toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, please. She just loves us.” Thomas puffed his chest out.

  “Lies. All lies,” Izzy said as she slid between James’s legs on the floor.

  I felt envious of the Gallos.

  They had each other.

  I’d been alone my entire life, with no brothers or sister to tease or have my back. I missed my ma, but I’d never admit it. And if I was being entirely truthful, I wished Race were here with me.

  “What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

  I blinked a couple of times and focused on him. “Me?” I asked, scrunching my nose.

  “Yeah, you.”

  “Nothing, man.”

  “Something’s on your mind, cousin. Spit it out,” Joe said, running his finger across his lip.

  I sighed and scrubbed my hands across my face. “Just thinking about how lucky you are to have each other.”

  “Dude, it must’ve sucked being an only child,” Mike chimed in, shaking his head as he winced.

  I shrugged. “At times, it was great. I didn’t have to share shit with anyone, but then at other times…”

  “Yeah. It has to be lonely,” Mike said.

  “I call bullshit. I’d love to be an only child,” Izzy blurted out. “I’d want all the attention. Plus, I wouldn’t have had to put up with your asses my entire life.”

  “Izzy,” Anthony said as he gave her a nasty look, “please stop with your crap. You’ve been treated like an only child for years. You’re a girl, and that’s afforded you a pretty charmed existence.”

  “That’s such a crock of crap.” She rolled her eyes.

  In the other room, the older kids played in the new playroom Auntie Mar had made for them. The Gallos were creating a small army. Izzy had twin boys about six months before her wedding and named them Rocco and Carmello, but everyone called him Mello. Thomas and Angel had a little boy, Nick, who was just learning to walk. Anthony, Joe, and Mike each had little girls named Tamara, Gigi, and Lily respectively.

  “I better go get Nick up so he’s ready to eat, baby,” Angel said to Thomas before kissing him on the cheek and heading upstairs.

  “James,” Izzy said, glancing at him.

  “What?”

  “I need help carrying those two beasts you helped create.” Izzy stood and put her hands on her hips.

  “I got ya. I’ll get them both, love. You rest.” He pulled her back down onto the floor and nuzzled his face into her neck. “I love waking the boys up,” he mumbled against her skin.

  “Nah. I want to help you,” she said with a giggle as she climbed to her feet and pulled James with her.

  The living room thinned quickly. I took it as a cue to go see if Auntie Mar needed any help. The least I could do was pitch in, since she had been gracious enough to invite me.

  “Hey, Auntie Mar.” I walked into the kitchen, finding her spooning the meatballs into a giant bowl. “Let me help you.”

  “You’re such a dear, Morgan.” She turned and gave me a magnificent smile. “Can you finish this while I get the gnocchi ready?”

  “Hell yeah,” I replied, because gnocchi were my favorite. Shit sat in my stomach like a ton of bricks, but it was amazingly soft.

  She handed me the spoon. “You’re really a good man. You’ve changed so much since you were a teenager.”

  “I hope so. I was a punk back then.”

  “We all have to grow up sometime. You just took the harder road.” She bent over and pulled a strainer that could fit at least three pounds of pasta in it without a problem out of the cupboard.

  “Joining the army was the best thing for me. My mom would disagree, but I don’t know if I’d be alive today if it weren’t for them.”

  She placed the strainer in the sink and turned toward me. “Morgan,” she said, placing her hand on my shoulder, “your mom knows it was the best thing for you. She just likes to complain. Plus,” she added as she turned her attention back to the pasta, “it’s the job of a mother to make her children feel guilty.” She was surrounded by a cloud of steam as she dumped the boiling water and pasta into the sink.

  I dropped the last meatball in the bowl and watched as she shook the water out of the pasta. “You’re all crazy.”

  “We’d be boring if we weren’t. Be a dear and go set those meatballs on the dining room table. We’re just about done here.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I teased, saluting her.

  “Smartass. You’re all the same.”

  “Touché, Aunt Mar.” I wished I had used a potholder to carry the damn bowl.

  For the first time in forever, I felt like I had a family again. I belonged somewhere. Although they were my cousins, I loved them like we were more. We’d spent our youth together, tearing shit up and causing trouble in the neighborhood.

  That was until Joe and I had gotten into just enough trouble to make Auntie Mar and Uncle Sal pack the kids up and leave town. It was the worst feeling ever.

  I stared around the dining room table, looking at each of the chairs, and said to myself, “I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” I left out the bit about Race.

  Just then, Aunt Mar yelled, “Dinner!” as she carried the gnocchi into the dining room with the potholders I’d decided not to use.

  “Thanks,” I said as I turned to her.

  “For what?” she asked as she set the bowl on the table.

  “For being my family,” I replied, and then I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Who knew you were such a softy, Morgan?”

  “This doesn’t go any further. Got me?”

  “Too late,” Joe said as he walked in the room. “I’m going to buy your ass a purse to carry around all those feelings in.”

  “Don’t you start, Joseph,” Aunt Mar warned him. “You aren’t as tough as you look, son. People in glass houses—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted. “I got ya.”

  “What did I miss?” Izzy asked as she walked in behind Suzy, carrying Mello. Or maybe it was Rocco. I couldn’t tell them apart yet.

  “Nothing, Izzy. Let’s eat,” Joe said as he pulled the chair out for his wife.

  One by one, everyone entered the dining room, taking their spots at the table. Even I had my own chair. I was a full-fledged member of the family.

  This time, I wouldn’t do anything to fuck it up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m Totally Fucked

  Race

  I hated Sundays.

  They were useless.

  I’d always planned to spend my Sundays on the beach, sipping wine, and reading a good book, but it never happened. Typically, I sat home, did laundry, and worked in my pajamas.

  I hadn’t been able to get Morgan off my mind. I knew I shouldn’t want to be with him, but I wanted it more than anything in the world. I wouldn’t survive him. I knew that.

  When I checked my e-mail before settling down to watch a movie, what popped up on my screen rattled me.

  Race,

  He can’t help you. No one can. You’re in my crosshairs and I’m coming for you when you least expect it.

  My heart started to p
ound as I glanced around, wondering if someone was outside my house. I grabbed my phone and texted Morgan.

  Morgan: I’ll be right over. Stay put.

  Me: No. I’m fine. I just wanted to make you aware.

  I unlocked and relocked my French doors to the back deck as I waited for his reply, and then I peeked through the blinds, trying to see if someone was outside.

  Morgan: I’m coming over, Race. I need to do a perimeter check. I’ll bring the others to help and stay with you for a while. No lip.

  I didn’t expect him to rush right over. I felt guilty for pulling him away from whatever he was doing tonight.

  Me: No. There’s no one here. I’m fine. Really.

  Morgan: Stay inside, lock the doors, and stay away from the windows. I’ll be there in twenty.

  Duh! I mean, seriously. Did he think I was going to stand outside and sing a song?

  Me: Yes, sir.

  I turned the lights off and tried to distract myself while I waited.

  I settled on the couch, watching The Bachelor and the train wreck that happened every episode. It was always good for a laugh. I started to drift off during the rose ceremony, my eyes feeling heavy and starting to sting.

  My doorbell rang and I jumped.

  “Race!” Morgan yelled as he knocked on the door. “Race, answer the goddamn door.”

  “Coming!” I replied as I stomped toward the door. I checked my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red, with bags underneath. Great. My pajamas were okay, but they were nothing he hadn’t seen before. Really, it was just a pair of shorts and a tank top. I wasn’t about to make it look like I’d made an effort.

  This was business, I reminded myself as I reached for the door, not sex.

  “Race! I’m going to bust this door down if you don’t open it.” He pounded on the door this time.

  The man was such a spaz. “What the hell?” I asked, throwing my hands up after I opened the door.

  His eyes were on fire as he breathed hard. “What the hell? That’s all you have to say?” he asked with his hands resting on the frame and two men behind him.

 

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