Glorious Sinner (Lawless Kings, #4.5)

by Sherilee Gray

  Which meant everything had just changed. I wasn’t going to push too hard, but I sure as fuck wasn’t going to pull away from her either. If she needed time, she could have all the time in the world, but I wasn’t pretending anymore that what I felt for her was anything other than what it was.

  The raw honest truth was all I was capable of showing her now. I couldn’t pretend or suppress what I was feeling any longer.

  “I can’t believe he’s back. Why? Why won’t he leave me alone?” she said, hugging herself.

  “I promise you, you’re safe here with me. Nothing, no one can touch you here.” Not even me. Not unless you ask. “I won’t let him come anywhere near you. I’ll kill him first,” I said.

  A shiver moved through her, but she didn’t look frightened by my words. No, she looked relieved. Stephanie trusted me. She trusted me with her life.

  Did she have any idea what she’d just done? What she’d just given me?

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  I gritted my teeth. I fucking hated how broken she sounded, how all the strength she’d worked so hard to build had been decimated. That voice, that small, broken voice was back. The voice I’d heard when she woke in her hospital bed and cracked my heart wide open. I thought it was nothing but a shriveled husk in my chest until that day.

  I tried, and failed, at keeping the growl of rage vibrating through me from my voice, the white-hot fury pumping through my veins. “Don’t thank me, Angel. You don’t ever have to thank me.”

  Ryan was going to pay, and he wouldn’t walk away this time.

  Stephanie

  I woke to sun streaming through the window. It took me a moment to work out where I was, then it all came rushing back. Coming here in the middle of the night…

  Breaking down in front of Tomas.

  Humiliation burned my face. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that, but especially not Tomas. I threw an arm over my eyes. My life was a mess. Ryan had slithered from whatever hole he’d been hiding in, and Tomas…

  I remembered how he’d looked last night when he’d come down those stairs, all fierce and strong and pissed off on my behalf. How he’d felt against me when he pulled me in tight against his warm, hard body to comfort me.

  My belly flipped low down.

  Did he…could he really want me like that? Did he really see me as more than some…some broken shell, a victim? I thought about the last time I danced for him, and electricity zapped through my belly, lower.

  You’d think the fact that I danced for a living, took my clothes off in front of people, would mean I was this…this sex kitten, the kind of woman who was in touch with her sexual side. Strong and confident. And I hated that Tomas had seen me break down last night, that he got a glimpse of the truth beneath the show, the pretense I put on at work.

  Because the truth was the opposite. The last time I’d had sex? I swallowed audibly. I didn’t want to think about it.

  The last time I’d had an orgasm?

  I couldn’t remember.

  Ryan liked to withhold them, and I’d been punished the first time I admitted to my husband that I’d gotten myself off. I thought he’d find the admission sexy, exciting. Instead, Ryan had been jealous, positive I’d been thinking of someone else when I’d come, and had forbidden me from doing it again. I’d convinced myself he’d know if I’d touched myself because he always seemed to know everything. And he’d been right. I’d lied about it to him, of course, but I had thought of someone else.

  A tattooed crime boss, who I’d learned last night wore black pajama pants so low it should be a crime. A man who was so ripped he looked carved from marble. Yeah, I’d cast Tomas in the starring role of every one of my fantasies since I’d first laid eyes on him.

  My shy admission to Ryan that I’d made myself come while he wasn’t there had started a new kind of punishment. His very own brand of correction therapy.

  A shudder moved through me.

  I barely felt like a woman anymore, let alone a sexual creature. How could Tomas see me like that when I didn’t feel that way about myself?

  Shoving back the covers, I pushed everything from my mind and sat up, taking in my room properly for the first time. Last night, after Tomas led me upstairs and steered me toward the bed, I’d crawled under the covers and tried to pretend this nightmare wasn’t happening. The fact that I’d actually fallen asleep—I checked the phone—and slept in—shit—said far more than I wanted to acknowledge.

  My coming here in the first place said things I didn’t want to delve too deeply into. The truth was nowhere and no one else made me feel safe like Tomas did. That freaked me out for several reasons.

  I shook off those thoughts as well.

  The bedroom was big; the carpet, curtains, and duvet cover white. The furniture was dark wood, expensive looking, probably antiques. I’d known where Tomas lived, because he made sure I knew. He’d told me to come to him if ever I needed him, but I’d never been inside before.

  I’d even gone as far as having a cab drive me past more than once. Which was something else I didn’t want to think about.

  I stood and went to the window, looking down at people moving about on the street below. Inside was silent, still, calm, the last thing I expected Tomas’s home to be. I opened one of the doors in the room and found a bathroom, bigger than the one in my apartment—a lot bigger. There were double doors as well. I opened them next. A closet.

  And sucked in a breath.

  My bags were there. I knelt down to check them out. All my clothes, all of them, had been packed up and brought here. And not just my clothes, my makeup and toiletries, my jewelry.

  I rummaged through my stuff, pulled on leggings and a tank top, and strode out of the room and down the stairs.

  “Would you like breakfast, Miss Gable?”

  I jumped and spun around. The gray-haired dude from last night had materialized out of nowhere and was smiling at me.

  “Um…no, thank you.” I smiled back. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name last night.”

  He dipped his chin a little. “Arthur.”

  “Nice to meet you, Arthur. And please, call me Steph,” I said.

  His smile widened. “Of course.”

  I liked Arthur instantly. He had a nice face and kind eyes. “Is Tomas still here?”

  “He is.” The guy frowned. “But I really think you should eat something first.”

  “Maybe later?” I said.

  “I’ll leave something in the fridge for you.” Arthur motioned across the hall to a set of double doors. “Tomas is in his office, through those doors. And no need to knock. He was waiting for you to wake,” he said gently.

  “Thanks, Arthur.” I strode to the doors and, straightening my spine, pushed them open. Tomas looked up from his desk as soon as I walked in. My step faltered when his dark eyes locked on mine.

  He was sitting behind his desk, wearing a black button-down, sleeves rolled up his corded, inked forearms. It was undone at the collar, giving an enticing glimpse of the tattoo on his chest. He sat back in his seat, his mahogany eyes moving over me, giving me a head-to-toe, and for once his expression wasn’t blank. I wasn’t sure what I saw in his eyes, but it made my heart race faster.

  “Sleep okay?” he asked, gaze moving over my face, my hair, my eyes down to my mouth, where it lingered for several seconds before moving back up to my eyes.

  I crossed my arms, shifting from foot to foot. He made me nervous…but not in a bad way. I never knew how to be around him. He’d never given me anything—nothing I could read. This morning, though, he was giving me a whole lot—and I was sure I had to be seeing things. “I slept fine.”

  “Hungry?”

  I shook my head.

  Tomas frowned like Arthur had.

  “You got my stuff last night.”

  He nodded.

  “All of my stuff.”

  He stood, moving out from behind his desk, then leaned against the front of it. He wore dark trousers th
at clung to his solid thighs, and the muscles flexed when he rested his hands either side. He had long fingers, not elegant; blunt and scarred and rough.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “All of it,” I said again.

  His lips curled up on one side. “I want you to have everything you need while you’re here,” he said, those dark eyes not straying from me.

  “How long am I staying?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “You’re your own woman, Stephanie. That’s entirely up to you. You can stay here as long as you need. I’d really like to ensure your safety before you leave, though.”

  I realized I’d just tried to hand him power, control over me. Why the hell had I done that? What was wrong with me that I expected, and worse, was ready to except whatever Tomas said to me? God, when I took a metaphorical backward step, it was giant sized.

  “How do you plan on ensuring my safety?” I said, unable to hold his direct stare.

  “I have people looking for him now.”

  The way Tomas said him, refusing to say Ryan’s name, all fierce, with a whole lot of banked fury, had my breath catching in my throat. I liked it way too much. “And what will you do when you find him?”

  He pushed away from the desk and took several steps toward me until he was two feet from me. “That is up to you.”

  I jolted. “Me?”

  He nodded.

  My breathing grew unsteady. “What if I wanted you to break both his legs?” I had no idea why I asked that, but I wanted to know what Tomas was capable of. I’d heard the stories, things that should have had me running from not to him. I didn’t know what that said about me, but those stories didn’t scare me. They made me feel even safer with him.

  He grinned, and it was dark and sexy and terrifying. “I’d break his fucking legs and I’d enjoy every one of his screams.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, fighting my instincts to step back.

  “I’m not a nice man, Stephanie, or a good man. I’ve done a lot of things in my life, bad things. But I have never, and would never, hurt a woman. Ever.” He took another step closer.

  I held my ground, stuck in place.

  He lifted his hand slowly, like I was a frightened rabbit, and cupped my cheek. I dragged in another breath at the rough warmth of his skin against mine. “You have nothing to fear from me. I will never hurt you, not in any way.”

  I nodded, caught in the depths of his dark eyes. I knew it deep in my bones. I’d always known it. “I feel safe here with you,” I said, giving away more than I had to anyone for longer than I could remember.

  His hand slid around to the back of my neck, his fingers sliding into my hair, his thumb gliding over my jaw, making me shiver. “That’s good, Angel. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

  He stared down at me in a way that had me swaying slightly toward him. His fingers flexed lightly, then he let me go and stepped back.

  I quickly straightened. “I, ah…I have work in a couple of hours. Do you have a key or something I can use to get back in? I’m working a double. I’d hate to wake Arthur again.”

  He crossed his arms, his biceps straining his shirt sleeves. “Do you really think you should work?”

  “My rent won’t pay itself.” I crossed my arms as well. “If Raul knows what’s up, has the bouncers keep an eye out, and one of the guys walks me to a cab after work, I’ll be fine,” I said, waiting, positive Tomas would put up a fight.

  His head tilted to the side, and he studied me. “The cash I found stashed in your drawer at your apartment, it’s the money I gave you, isn’t it?” he said instead.

  I nodded, curling my fingers into a fist, letting my nails dig in. “I planned on giving it back to you.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  I chewed on my lip. I didn’t want to tell him the real reason: that I stopped needing it a long time ago, that I let him think I did so he’d keep coming back. Instead, I said, “Because I owe you, not the other way around.” Which was also the truth.

  He continued to stare at me like he was waiting for more. I squirmed under that stare. “So, um…do you have a key?”

  “You won’t need one,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I’ll be with you.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I plan on making sure you continue to feel safe, Stephanie,” he said. “And if that means I work from a table at Stilettos today and every day you work, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  4

  Tomas

  Focusing on anything except Stephanie was impossible. I hadn’t gotten anything done since we’d arrived at Stilettos. I’d been alternating between staring at my laptop screen blankly and watching her move around the room.

  She was safe. I had her covered, men posted all around the club, outside, all with a picture of Ryan. It didn’t matter, though. When it came to her, I didn’t trust anyone to keep her safe but me.

  That wasn’t the only reason I couldn’t get shit done. There was also the fact that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. While she worked the floor, she wore an electric blue barely-there dress. The fabric looked like it was wrapped around her curvy figure, giving glimpses of her golden flesh beneath. She was also wearing sky-high heels and black stockings with a seam that traveled up the back, leading the eye right to her delectable ass.

  The woman was built, lots of tits and ass, soft thighs. My gaze lifted to her hair. I fucking loved her red hair. I always had. It was wild and full and looked so damn soft.

  I shifted in my seat and sat back, not even bothering to pretend I was working anymore. I watched as one of the other girls walked over to her and said something. Stephanie looked at someone across the room, and I watched her put on a smile, one that I knew was fake as hell. It was sultry and sexy, but it was fake. It was the smile she used when she worked, a smile she could hide behind.

  I’d seen her dance for other men before, many times. I hated every moment of it, but I had no right to tell her not to do it. I also knew I had nothing to worry about. She wasn’t interested in any of them. Stephanie hadn’t dated, hadn’t even had a casual fuck, since she escaped Ryan.

  And as I watched her dance, the way she moved, the look on her face…she was detached on a deep level. Yeah, she put on a good show, and anyone who didn’t know her wouldn’t see it, but she wasn’t there. I doubted she was even in this room.

  Jesus, she was locked up tight, too damned tight, and I wanted more than anything for her to let me in.

  I stayed where I was until her shift finished, and then stood and walked to the bar to meet her after she collected her bag. I didn’t miss the way her eyes flared when she saw me, the way they got brighter. She was happy to see me. There was no other way to interpret it, or the subtle curve of her lips that she tried to hide by dipping her chin.

  “You didn’t have to wait,” she said when I was standing in front of her.

  I held her green gaze and gently brushed her hair off her shoulder, letting my fingers graze the side of her neck softly. She sucked in a breath, her eyes getting brighter. She liked my touch. I realized it last night, and I planned on touching her whenever I could. Nothing demanding, nothing lingering, but I wanted her to get used to me, to my touching her, and this was the only way I knew how. “I wanted to.”

  Color hit her cheeks.

  “You ready to go?”

  She nodded and I placed my hand on her lower back lightly and led her from the club. Another innocent touch. I felt her shiver under my palm and I glanced at her to make sure she was okay. Another small curl of lips told me she was, so did the high color still on her cheeks.

  Fuck. My gut tightened.

  How could that innocent little display be so hot?

  My car was waiting outside, and one of my men climbed out and rushed around to open the door for us. Stephanie offered the guy a warm smile and slid in. I followed, keeping about a foot between us. I resisted reaching over and taking her hand, and holding
it tight in mine.

  “So did you get the work done you needed to?” she asked, glancing over at me, not fully meeting my eyes.

  I hated that. I leaned back, doing my best to look relaxed when in reality I was close to jumping out of my skin. “Yeah.” I smiled. “Well, maybe not everything. There was this redhead walking around distracting the fuck out of me.”

  Her head jerked up, her gaze slicing up to mine, and more color darkened her cheeks. She opened her mouth then closed it again.

  “Hungry?” I didn’t need her to say anything. I didn’t want her to think too much about it, to analyze what was happening, to overthink what I’d said. But I wasn’t going to keep that shit to myself anymore. I wanted her to know, to prepare for what was coming, because she knew deep down what I wanted from her. I just had to wait for her to get used to it.

  “Yeah, I am actually,” she said, her fingers curling and uncurling in her lap.

  “Good.” I took out my phone and fired a text off to Arthur, telling him he could finish for the day and I’d heat our meals myself. “I’m in the mood for a night in. What about you?”

  She glanced out the window for a second then back to me. “You’ve been so great, Tomas. Please, don’t put yourself out for me. You don’t have to entertain me if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”

  Christ, she really wasn’t getting it, was she? I sat back, making my body relax when my shoulders were tense as hell. I glanced at her. “There’s nowhere I need to be and nowhere I’d rather be tonight than with you.”

  She blushed again.

  I looked away. I knew I could be intense, especially when I wanted something, and I sure as fuck didn’t want to intimidate her. I was rewarded with the sound of her shaky exhale.

  Stephanie

  I climbed out of the shower and carefully selected my outfit. The emerald green dress was short and low in the front, hiding nothing, but I wasn’t trying to be subtle.