Endurance: A Sin Series Standalone Novel (The Sin Trilogy Book 4)

by Georgia Cates

  Adaira trying to unzip my pants.

  Grabbing a bottle of JW from Kenrick.

  Oh, fuck.

  I reach down and feel my naked cock about the time the mattress dips and shifts next to me.

  No. No. No.

  Please, please, please don’t let it be Adaira lying beside me.

  I slowly lift my head and peek over at whoever is in my bed but all I see is a shadow. I can’t make out anything about the woman. No body shape. No hair color or style. Nothing.

  I stretch for my phone on the nightstand because I plan to use the flashlight but it isn’t there. Just my fucking luck.

  I take a chance and reach out in the darkness to feel for Ellison’s bellybutton piercing. I breathe a sigh of relief when I feel the dangling piece of jewelry over her navel. To be one hundred percent certain it’s her, I slide my hand lower to check for the short, thin rectangular strip of hair over the center of her pussy. Thank fuck that’s what I feel.

  “Did you not get enough of that already?” A stretch, moan, and yawn follow her words.

  “I don’t know. Did I?” I use a teasing tone but I have no idea if I got enough or not. I can only recall flashes of this and that after I downed the Johnnie Walker.

  My memory is spotty but I fully recall my brothers competing for Ellison’s attention. She danced with at least a dozen of them but Logan pissed me off the most. The way he held her. The way he touched her. The way he looked at her as though she was already his.

  I hated every second of seeing them together.

  Everything about last night’s party was shite.

  Pieces of the puzzle present and I recall waking to my girl in bed with me last night. I remember being happy she didn’t stay to enjoy the attention she was receiving from my brothers. She chose to come home to me instead.

  Ellison told me she was mine and that every last part of her belonged to me. The rest is fuzzy, although I have a vague recollection, very much like déjà vu, where I hear myself telling Ellison that I love her and I’ll die before I let another man have her.

  I have no idea if it really happened or if it was a dream. And I’m not sure which I’d like it to be. I love Ellison but making the move to tell her so would be a bad move at this point. It’ll only complicate things between us.

  I scoot closer and drape my arm over Ellison’s stomach. “I have clinical today.”

  Ellison rubs her hand up my arm. “Are you sure you should go?”

  I’d love nothing more than to stay in this bed with her. “Don’t get to skip clinical because I’m hungover.”

  “I’m not talking about a hangover. I’m pretty sure you’re still drunk. It’s only been about six hours since you downed a bottle of whisky.”

  “Only half,” I correct.

  “Whatever. You’re still drunk.”

  I’m definitely not feeling my best but I’m not steamin’. “I’m all right. Plus, it’s the first day of this rotation. I’ll mostly be observing.”

  “What kind of rotation?”

  “Obstetrics and gynecology.”

  “You’re going to be looking at other women’s vaginas all day. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “No worries.” I slide my hand between her legs and squeeze. “Yours is the only one I’m interested in seeing or touching.”

  “You touched it a lot last night. And you were very clear about it belonging to you and no one else. Especially Logan.”

  “I have no memory of that conversation, but I don’t doubt telling you that he pissed me off.”

  “You told me there was no way in hell you’d let him have me.”

  Logan had a woman and fucked up. “He’s proven he isn’t capable of protecting a wife. I won’t let him repeat that same mistake with you.”

  “You make it sound like I’m still up for claiming.”

  “Not by him.”

  “You said last night that you loved me and would die before you let another man have me.”

  Fuck. It wasn’t a dream. I did tell her those things last night. “Mac . . .”

  I don’t know what to say.

  I love Ellison but I made a conscious decision to keep those words to myself—keep things uncomplicated—until I have a solid plan on how I’ll claim, marry, and protect her.

  “I believed you when you said you loved me, and I belonged to you forever. But it was all drunk talk.”

  “No, baby. It wasn’t. Please don’t say that.”

  “Then say it again. Right now. Tell me you love me. Tell me I belong to you. Tell me you won’t let one of your brothers have me.”

  I consider it—saying I love you. Telling her she’s mine and no other’s. But I can’t—at least not until I figure out how to say it and know for a fact that everything is going to fall into the right place.

  “It isn’t that simple. We aren’t a normal couple who decides to date for a while and then get married. You and me together . . . we’re complicated.”

  She flips over so her back is to me. “I am such a stupid woman.”

  “That’s not true.”

  I don’t know what else to say. I’ve fucked up with her again. I don’t know how to fix this with her.

  Dammit, I hate that I’ve hurt her. Again. I’m such a bastard. “I’m sorry, Ellison.”

  She pulls away so I’m no longer touching her. “I think we’re done here.”

  Done with what? This conversation or our relationship? I’m too afraid to ask in case she’s telling me we’re over.

  I’ve been dismissed, so I get out of bed to get ready for my day at the hospital. Getting vertical does nothing for my head but worsen the pounding pain. I deserve the pain for being such a dick.

  I clench my fist and fight the urge to punch the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. This should be the time of my life. Being with the woman I love. But it’s a mess because I keep screwing everything up with her.

  I can think of nothing else as I shower and dress for clinical. Every other minute I consider stopping what I’m doing to go to Ellison. But I don’t because I have no idea what I’d say or do.

  I think we’re done here. It’s a good indication she doesn’t want me to say or do anything.

  I go to Ellison’s side of the bed and place one of my handguns and a new box of ammunition on top of the nightstand. “I’m leaving you my Glock just in case.”

  The sun is rising so I’m able to see she’s still awake but choosing to not reply.

  I hate that she isn’t speaking. I hate that she’s angry with me. And I hate that I’m the cause of her pain.

  I lean down to kiss the top of her head but she pulls away. “I think I should move back to the apartment.”

  Something inside me rips when I hear her say those words. She isn’t leaving me. I’m not giving her up.

  I flip Ellison to her back and pin her down with her hands restrained above her head. I lower my face to hers so we’re eye to eye. “No.”

  One word. One command. One intention.

  I want to fuck her into the mattress. Need to. But don’t have time. Wish I could say fuck clinical and stay in this bed with her all day.

  “I’ll be home at seven. Be in this bed naked and waiting for me because I’m going to fuck you until you know exactly why moving back to the flat is the last thing you’re going to do.”

  Her breath hitches and she squirms beneath me while biting her bottom lip. She’s getting turned on right now. And I’m going to use that to remind her why she’s not going anywhere.

  I creep down her naked body, kissing her every couple inches.

  “Be.” Kiss.

  “In.” Kiss.

  “This.” Kiss.

  “Bed.” Kiss.

  “Naked.” Kiss.

  “And.” Kiss.

  “Waiting.” Kiss.

  I reach her pubic bone and dig my fingers into her hips to hold her in place as I press a hard kiss there against her groin. “Tell me where you’re going to be when I c
ome home tonight.”

  “In this bed.”

  “And in what manner will you be in this bed?”

  “Naked and waiting.”

  “Good girl. ’Cause my tongue is going to be all over your pussy when I get home tonight.” I place one long slow, hard kiss against the top of her slit. “I have to go, baby, or I’ll be late.”

  Ellison releases a loud groan. “That. Was. Cruel.”

  “Mmm. Maybe, but at least I know you’ll be here waiting to get what’s coming to you.” I flip her over so she’s facedown and smack her on the bum. “And when I’m done with your arse, you’ll never threaten to leave me again.”

  The obstetrician I was assigned to shadow today is acting more like my shadow, standing behind me looking over my shoulder. “You want to apply perineal pressure and control the delivery of the head to prevent her old scar from tearing.”

  Fuck. I’m sitting on a stool between this woman’s legs about to deliver her baby. I was not expecting to do anything like this today. Day one at other rotations is always set aside for observation.

  “Like this?” I position my hands as Dr. McCoy instructs at the same moment the patient yells that she has to push.

  “Exactly.”

  The expectant mother pulls back on her legs and crowns the baby with the next contraction. “Oh, God. There’s so much pressure.”

  Oh, God, there’s so much volume in her voice.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m about to deliver a baby.

  I have no business doing this. I’m part of a criminal organization. We lie. We steal. We cheat. We kill our rivals. My hands are dirty. I’m chest deep in filth. I have no right being part of something as special as bringing a baby into this world.

  “If she pushes too hard the head will deliver quickly and tear the scar. Put your hand over the top of the baby’s head and control the speed. Slow it down for her.” I apply gentle pressure to the top of the baby’s head. “That’s it.”

  The baby’s head emerges and the obstetrician walks me through suctioning the nose and mouth before instructing me on the delivery of the shoulders. A moment later the baby’s body is out and he takes his first breath before the wailing begins.

  My hands are trembling when I cut the cord between the two clamps. I’ve assisted in all kinds of traumas and my hands have never been this shaky. “The cord’s tough.”

  “That’s what everyone says the first time they cut one.”

  The obstetrician pats me on the back. “No stitches needed. Good job, Dr. Breckenridge.”

  I congratulate the patient and her husband and then go to the locker room to change before leaving. I take a minute to sit on the bench and reflect on what I just did. I delivered a baby. It was the scariest and most amazing thing I’ve ever done in my life. I did a good job at it. And I may have even liked doing it.

  The patient’s husband was so happy. Beyond thrilled. He couldn’t stop kissing his wife and telling her how much he loved her. Is it like that for everybody? Even Fellowship members? Did Sin feel that way when Bleu gave birth to their boys?

  Ellison’s face is the only one I can see when I imagine being in the delivery room, while she gives birth to our child as my wife. But that won’t happen if Ellison gets away. She’ll give sons and daughters to one of my brothers.

  I think about it the whole way home. Ellison as my wife. The mother of my children.

  And then I consider the alternative. Ellison as someone else’s wife. The mother of someone else’s children.

  Her claiming is only a few weeks away but there’s time to come up with a way to make us work. I have to. Because the alternative isn’t something I’ll survive.

  I pull into the drive and go into panic mode the moment I see the black sedan in the driveway. Who the fuck is here?

  I jump out of my vehicle and run toward the house. Fuck. The front door is unlocked which sends me into an even more frantic state. “Ellison!”

  “In trauma one.” Her voice is calm but it does little for my anxiety.

  I bolt to the treatment room and come to a dead stop when I see Logan sitting on the side of the bed with Ellison standing between his legs looking at a wound above his eye. “What the fuck is this?”

  Ellison cuts her eyes at me. “Our first patient.”

  She steps away and takes off her gloves. “I think it’ll heal quicker with a few stitches.”

  I thought I was coming home to a naked Ellison in our bed waiting to be fucked. Not this shite.

  I go to Logan so I can evaluate the laceration over his brow. “Lie down on the bed so I can have a better look under the light.”

  Ellison grabs the overhead exam light and adjusts it so it’s shining directly on the cut. “Three stitches. Maybe four. We’ll see.”

  I get up from the stool and motion for Ellison to follow me. “Can you help me find the chromic sutures?”

  “You don’t use nylon for facial lacerations?”

  “Do you really think a brother is going to come back to have sutures removed?”

  “Since you’re asking I would guess not.” Ellison points to the shelves of supplies. “I stocked this room with chromic.”

  “Not the size I need. Come help me find a five-oh in the supply room.”

  I lead Ellison to trauma two and shut the door. “I really want to put you over my lap and spank your arse hard. You weren’t supposed to open the door to anyone while I’m not here. We talked about that and you agreed. It’s the only reason I let you stay here today instead of taking you to Sin and Bleu’s.”

  “I know—and I didn’t plan to open the door—but Sin called ahead to let me know Logan was coming for treatment. I didn’t have a choice.”

  The fucker knew I’d probably be gone to clinical. He called Sin so he could get into the infirmary while I wasn’t here. I don’t like that one damn bit. “How long has he been here?”

  “Maybe ten minutes.”

  Ten minutes alone with Ellison. A lot can happen in that amount of time. “Did he touch you?”

  Ellison looks away. “No.”

  Inexperienced liars can’t look you in the eyes when they lie. Fact. And that means he touched her. “You’re going to have to become a better liar than that if you’re going to make me believe you.”

  She sighs. “He put his hands on my hips—and squeezed them—while I was cleaning his laceration. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal? Are you fucking kidding me? The horny bastard put his hands on you.”

  “Whoa.” Ellison puts up her hand. “You act like Logan has wronged you in some way.”

  “He has. You are mine.”

  Ellison’s eyes narrow. “Am I really?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  “If I were really yours, he’d know I was. I wouldn’t have been put on the block for claiming.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Fuck, yes.” The little shite is mocking me.

  I bolt toward Ellison and yank her into my arms. Hard. Our kiss skips slow and sweet and proceeds directly to heated. Urgent. Carnal. “If you weren’t mine, would you let me do this?”

  “Fuck you, Jamie Breckenridge.”

  “Not yet, baby.”

  I yank open her jeans, shove my hand into her knickers, and plunge my fingers deep inside her pussy. I move them in and out—stroking the roof with my curled fingertips—making her moan. “If you weren’t mine, would you let me do this?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Not yet, baby.”

  I take my fingers out of her and bring them to my mouth for a taste. “If you weren’t mine, would I do this?”

  “Fuck. You.”

  “Is that what you want, Mac? For me to bury my cock deep inside you?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation.

  “Then zip up your pants and let’s go stitch this motherfucker so we can send him on his way and get down to it.”

  Ellison grabs my jaw and squeezes hard so my lips pucker outwardly. “You’re going to beg me to
let you put your cock inside me.”

  I love the fire I see in my girl’s eye. I want to play with it. See it burn out of control. “I think it’ll be the other way around.”

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  Too bad I have to wash my hands before stitching Logan. I wouldn’t mind him smelling Ellison on me. I wouldn’t mind him wondering what we were doing. I wouldn’t mind him figuring out I’ve had Ellison. Or that I’m having her every chance I get.

  I’m gloved and ready to go when Ellison passes the loaded needle holder to me. “Five-oh chromic.”

  “Thank you, Mac.” Ellison grins when I use her behind-closed-doors-only nickname.

  I lean over Logan and pull his wound together. “Looks like it should heal well, but you should probably expect a small scar since it’s across your eyebrow.”

  “Worth the scar.”

  “How’d this happen?”

  “Practicing skills for the takeover.”

  “Will be here before we know it.”

  “I’m ready for it to be over so I can make my claim on this beautiful woman.”

  I push the needle through Logan’s skin and inwardly chuckle when he yells out in pain. “I only inject local for pussies. Do you need something for the pain?”

  “Fuck, no.” Logan winces when I drive the needle through the other side of the laceration and bring the edges of skin together.

  “Good. ’Cause that would be humiliating to let Mac see you puss out.”

  Logan grips the edge of the mattress on the bed. “Have you been brushing up on your skills, cousin?”

  He knows damn well I won’t be in on the action. Bastard’s trying to make me look weak in front of Ellison by pointing out that I won’t be in on the fight. But he hasn’t considered that she wasn’t raised Fellowship and doesn’t share the same opinions as our women. She said she was happy I wasn’t going to be in the middle of the fight. She doesn’t see me as weak because I’ll have a medical instrument in my hand instead of a gun.

  “I’ve been playing doctor a lot lately. Does that count as brushing up on my skills since I’m the appointed physician?”

  Ellison fights the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth by biting her bottom lip. She loses the battle and turns her face away from Logan.