Twisted Vow

by Ella Miles

  Fuck, she’s wearing the dress because she knows the reaction she will get from Julian and me. She’s right. I won’t be able to resist her all night. And neither will Julian. It gives her power. The cost is her being uncomfortable all night and not being able to run and escape in heels as easily.

  Although, I’m sure she has plenty of weapons tucked away in various places in that dress. I can’t imagine where she could fit any, though, with how tight and revealing that dress is.

  “Well, I guess we are driving then,” I say as I stand and look down at her heels.

  She chuckles. “You don’t think I’m as capable of walking in these heels as I am in flats?”

  “Your skills constantly shock and surprise me, so I wouldn’t put anything past you. But walking in those heels seems impossible.”

  “Just drive,” she says, as we walk out of the bedroom and out to my truck.

  The second I pull in front of Julian’s house, the air between us changes. There is no more joking—no more appreciative glances. We will return to being enemies as soon as we walk in the door. Even if I don’t understand why yet, Siren will stand by Julian’s side.

  We both walk up to the front door, which opens before we knock. One of Julian’s men greets us.

  “Mr. Reed is waiting for you in the dining room. Right this way, please,” he says.

  Siren no longer looks at me as we walk. She’s all business. When we get to the dining room, and I see Julian sitting at the end of the table, I get flashbacks to the last time I was here. When Siren was tied up, when the men tried to touch her, when she fought back, only to be dragged up the stairs and…

  I growl—the deepest, most ferocious sound I’ve ever made in greeting to Julian.

  He just smiles and folds his hands across his lap.

  “You’re late,” he says.

  “I knew you’d wait,” I say, not waiting for him to greet me and taking a seat next to him. Siren takes a seat across from me at the table, still not meeting my eyes.

  Julian stares at Siren’s neck, and then his gaze cuts down to her breasts. She does look incredible tonight. And I don’t know what she did to cover the cut on her neck, but it’s barely visible when she turns her head.

  “Should we get to business then?” I say, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

  Julian snaps his fingers, and a pair of servants strut in. One brings a bottle of wine and starts pouring, while the other carries soup.

  Fuck, this is going to end up being a seven-course meal.

  Julian starts talking, but it has nothing to do with our arrangement. I tune him out, trying to focus on the food in front of me when all of my attention is on how Julian looks at Siren and how he finds every excuse to touch her wrist. And she fucking lets him.

  But when she laughs and leans in at one of Julian’s jokes, I lose it.

  I slam my glass of wine down on the table, causing the stem to break and red wine to spill onto the white table cloth. He should have served me whiskey, not wine to begin with, and maybe it wouldn’t have happened.

  All eyes turn to me.

  “Ask your damn question already. I sat here and ate your food. If you want me to continue to sit here, then you will get on with why I’m here,” I say.

  Julian snaps his fingers again, and a servant enters, cleans up the broken glass, and then pours me a new one like nothing happened. But I notice that Julian is no longer touching Siren, so my outburst was worth it.

  Julian takes his time drinking his wine like he’s still working out how to play this.

  “Really? You’ve had all evening and still haven’t come up with the question you would like to ask me? You already know I won’t give you any information, so the question is moot,” I say.

  “What is Enzo’s Black main source of income?” Julian asks, narrowing his eyes as he studies me.

  The question isn’t that difficult. It wouldn’t put Enzo in too much danger. With a little digging, Julian could figure out the answer anyway. But as I said, I will do nothing that harms my friends.

  “I will never tell you the truth. I choose sin,” I say, hoping like hell whatever he wants me to do won’t destroy me. But I’m guessing whoever he wants me to hurt or attack is most likely his enemy. And if they are mixed up in this world, then they probably deserve whatever is coming their way.

  Julian’s eyes cut to Siren, and they exchange a silent conversation.

  I try to study their relationship. What are they saying? What are they thinking? How can they go from almost killing each other to quiet glances and conversations?

  Siren takes a deep breath, then she stands up and walks out of the dining room. Both Julian and I watch her ass as she walks away. She returns a moment later, holding a tablet. She flicks it on and then hands it to me.

  I stare down at the screen filled with a picture of a man.

  “I’ll start you off with a simple task. One so simple that my Aria here could do it in her sleep,” Julian says.

  My eyes flick to Siren. I have no doubt she could do anything with ease. She is an expert temptress.

  “He’s a new player in the islands here. He’s been buying up large stocks of weapons and persuading men I’ve worked with for years to change loyalty and work for him. I want him dealt with,” Julian says.

  Dealt with. I don’t have to ask what he means by that. He wants me to find out who he is and then kill him. I don’t know who this man is. I don’t know if he is a good or bad man. But he’s in this world. He knows the risks he takes every day. So if killing five men is the price I have to pay for ensuring Enzo and his family are safe, then I’ll do it.

  I stare down at the grainy picture. It’s not a lot to go off of, so I hope Julian or Siren has more information to give me.

  “What is his name?” I ask.

  “Eli Beckett,” Siren answers. “But that is all the information we have so far. Are you able to handle research, or do I need to find out more about him for you?”

  I click off the image and give her a smirk. She has no idea what my life was like before I came here. Langston, my best friend, may have been better at discovering people who don’t want to be found, but I have more skills than most. I’m sure Siren is capable, but so am I.

  I stand up, not bothering to finish the steak or the rest of the food Julian had prepared.

  “No, I think I can handle finding everything I need about Eli Beckett on my own.”

  I walk out without saying goodbye but pause when I hear Julian’s voice. “Aria will ensure you stick to the task, instead of running away.”

  “I never run away from a deal,” I say, glaring at Julian.

  Siren gets up to follow me out, but Julian’s voice impedes her. “I need a word with you first, Aria.”

  I storm back to the truck, intent on getting the fuck out of here and spending my night searching for Beckett. The sooner I can complete the five sins, the sooner I can leave this fucking island.

  I don’t bother waiting for Siren. “Siren can prove me wrong and walk back in her damn heels,” I grumble under my breath, not wanting to deal with her right now.

  But when I get back to the house, I don’t storm to my laptop to search for Beckett. Instead, I find myself in the kitchen, drinking a glass of whiskey, waiting for her.

  About thirty minutes later, I hear the front door open. She doesn’t even bother to knock. I plan on reaming her out and then spending my night alone.

  But as soon as I catch a glance at Siren’s thigh from her dress hiking up her leg when she walks into my kitchen, I decide on a very different way to spend my night.

  “I’m going to sleep. Let me know if you need any help with your research,” Siren says, starting to walk through the house.

  I grab her hand, stopping her in her tracks as our hands’ touch. And then I spin her around, electricity blasting through us.

  “I never got to finish my sin.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “No, our kiss was only the
beginning.”

  11

  Siren

  I shudder as Zeke whispers in my ear, his voice bringing me back from where my mind has gone. I’ve been locked on my conversation with Julian after our drawn out dinner.

  I exhale deeply, trying to push Julian out of my head and body. I just want to go to bed. Tomorrow I can face Julian, Zeke, and whatever else tomorrow brings.

  “I need to sleep, Zeke. I’m tired,” I say. Before dinner, I would have jumped his bones. I would have done anything for him to fuck me. To steal another kiss or two. And connect our bodies in a tangled dance of sweat and desire to release an explosion inside both of us.

  But now, after Julian—well, I just can’t.

  Julian might have realized we would come back and fuck. He probably said what he said, and did what he did, because he knew I wouldn’t be able to after…

  “Siren?” Zeke says.

  I blink rapidly and look at him.

  “Yes?”

  He studies me a moment, in the careful way he does, which feels like he’s glimpsing into my soul. But of course, he can’t. He doesn’t know my truth any more than I know his.

  “Whiskey or wine?” he asks. He doesn’t give me the option to turn him down.

  I sigh. “Whiskey.” I’ve had enough wine after our dinner. I follow Zeke to the kitchen, where I’ve restocked the fridge and liquor cabinet. He goes to work pouring us both a glass. All I want to do is kick off my blister-forming shoes and unpeel myself from this dress.

  “Thanks,” I say as I take the offered glass. I’m very careful not to let our fingers brush as I take it.

  Zeke’s lip twitches as he notices how cautious my movement was. If his plan was to slowly seduce me, it’s not going to work.

  We both slowly sip our whiskey.

  “I should get to bed. It’s been a long day,” I say.

  “I agree we should go to bed,” he says.

  My heart stops at his voice, and a jolt hits me between my legs. Why does his voice have to be so sexy?

  “Separate beds,” I clarify.

  He frowns. “There is only one bed in this house, unless you count the one in the basement, but I doubt you’ll want to sleep there.”

  “Care to be a gentleman and sleep on the couch?”

  He downs his drink. “I’m no gentleman, Siren.”

  Siren, I love it when he calls me that. I know he means it as an insult, but when he says it, it never comes across that way. He doesn’t say it in the same harsh way he says Julian’s name. Zeke calls me Siren like it’s a term of endearment.

  Zeke places his glass on the counter, and then he starts walking toward the bedroom, but I can still feel his heated eyes on me. His words still reverberate through my core. I remember how his lips felt against mine, kissing me like I am the only thing in his world he cares about.

  I want that again.

  But I can’t have it.

  It’s not mine to take.

  I rub my neck; the fresh scar there clearly reminding me who I really am—a siren. Not Zeke’s Siren; I’m a real monster. And I won’t mix business with pleasure. At least, not again.

  I shouldn’t follow Zeke to the bedroom. I should stay out here and surrender to sleeping on the couch. But I never do what I should do. I’m a slow learner.

  I walk into the bedroom and watch as Zeke kicks off his shoes, preparing for bed like he didn’t just promise to commit a sin with me. Why did I think of that stupid game anyway? I could have gotten the same number of answers out of Zeke without having to play a game that causes me to lose every time.

  I stare at the big bed. We’ve slept in it plenty of times before; we can sleep in it again without fucking each other’s brains out.

  Yes, that’s all we are going to do—sleep.

  Zeke grabs the back of his shirt and begins pulling it one-handed over his head in the way all men know how to do. As it inches higher, my eyes zoom in on every muscle I will never get to feel, every tattoo I will never get to explore, every piece of skin I won’t get to add my own mark to.

  And then he starts unzipping his pants, and I force my eyes away. I can’t look at him. I won’t fuck him. Not tonight, not ever.

  I turn around and start messing with the zipper on the back of my dress, just needing out of these tight clothes and into bed as soon as possible. I don’t even care about grabbing a shirt to slip on first; I just want to get in that bed where I can pretend to sleep.

  “Here, let me help you,” Zeke says when I fidget with the zipper again. I can’t get it to move even an inch down.

  I relent wordlessly. He’s helping you unzip; he’s not undressing you, I tell myself.

  I feel his fingers against my back, and then he moves to my hair to sweep it off my neck.

  I still, afraid he’s going to discover one of my secrets, but if he does, he doesn’t say anything. And if Zeke found my secret, he most definitely would speak up.

  I hold my breath, feeling his tantalizing fingers brush against the skin on my back as he works my zipper down, down, down…

  Down past the point where I can easily finish the job myself. Past the point where he’s simply being a helpful gentleman. But then again, he’s already told me he isn’t a gentleman. I feel him stop just above the curve of my ass, and I have no doubt he would have continued if the zipper went lower.

  He doesn’t speak.

  I finally exhale when his hands are no longer on my body. I don’t dare turn around.

  I grab the straps of the dress and lower them before shimming the dress down over my hips until it falls to the floor. I’m not wearing a bra; there was no way to wear one with this dress. So just my thong underwear keeps me decent. I’m still wearing my heels, needing to feel powerful and strong up until the last moment before hitting the bed.

  The bed is behind me, and Zeke is standing between it and me. I could walk backward to the bed, and he wouldn’t see my naked breasts. Although, he’s seen them before and I’m not a shy woman. I should prance over like I know how much my body affects him. But I can’t because the problem isn’t him—it’s me.

  I can’t turn around and strut to the bed without looking at him. Him shirtless, possibly pantless. No matter what happened before, I’m still a woman. A woman with needs that haven’t been met in a very long time.

  I can’t.

  I shouldn’t.

  It’s wrong.

  But I know what’s going to happen before I even turn around. It was inevitable. Everything has been leading to this. And we can’t move on until it happens.

  Then we can move on…

  We can have one electric, passionate moment together. Like a storm blowing through town. Something that can never be repeated because the same storm conditions literally can’t converge again.

  I close my eyes, trying to steady my breath and heart. My heart is what I’m most worried about. I don’t fall in love easily, or anything close to it. But Zeke isn’t a typical man. He’s capable of tricking my heart into confusing lust with love. And I need to constantly remind my heart that Zeke feels no such love for me.

  He hates me. He can never love me. My heart needs to stay steady, strong, and unswayed by his body.

  I brush my hair back around my neck with my hands and wince at the feeling. I hated what happened with Julian before I left dinner, but right now, it’s the perfect reminder. A reminder that is going to get me to walk into the bed without letting Zeke’s naked body tempt me.

  I turn.

  I walk.

  I stop.

  Fucking Zeke.

  He’s standing, in just his boxers, with a damn smirk on his lips and heat in his eyes. The kind of cocky arrogance that says he’s about to get what he wants.

  I want to deny him just to wipe the smugness from his face.

  But his arrogance is earned.

  I stand taller, pushing my breasts out as I do, my nipples hardening under his appreciative stare. He rakes over my body, and it’s like he’s telling each
part of my body exactly what he plans on doing. How he will kiss, lick, nibble on my body. How he plans to pull scream after scream from my throat. How he plans to give me orgasm after orgasm.

  He won’t beg. He won’t ask. And he won’t force me.

  He’s making it clear that this is my choice. That if I say yes, he will take control. And I’ll have no control left. No power. I will give it all to him. And I don’t know in the morning light if I’ll be able to get it back.

  He thinks he’s gaining control in this moment. But I know the trick to retaining power. And it’s giving it up willingly. Because you are confident in getting it back. Or you don’t care about power in the first place.

  “Yes,” I say, my voice soft yet strong.

  A switch changes in Zeke, and it takes everything in him not to attack me at full speed.

  I move to kick my heels off, needing something to do—one last moment of self-possession.

  “Leave them on,” Zeke says in his deep husky voice.

  I do. And I know right here, right now that I want Zeke to have complete dominance over me. I know that if I surrender to him, if I do exactly what he says, I will have one of the best nights of my life. And I need a night where I don’t have to think. I can let someone else do that for me. I can let someone else worry about pleasure and pain, right and wrong.

  Zeke smiles when I leave my heels on.

  “So you can obey,” he says.

  “Only when I want to.”

  “And what do you want right now, Siren?”

  “You.”

  That’s all it takes—one word. He grabs my neck, pulling me to his hard chest and exquisite lips, the pain he’s causing my neck is undeniable, but I don’t care the second our lips crash and our tongues tangle. All I feel is Zeke. And it’s more than enough to spin my entire world on its axis.

  I kiss back hard, my tongue pushing and pulling and begging for everything I need tonight to be. I don’t think about all the harm I’m doing. I only think about how good this feels.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been so selfish as I’m going to be with Zeke. But I want to be selfish. Tomorrow I’ll deal with the consequences.