Glorious Sinner (Lawless Kings, #4.5)

by Sherilee Gray

  Tomas had done a lot for me, was still doing a lot for me. I owed him my life. No, he hadn’t asked for anything in return, but I didn’t want him seeing me as weak, as damaged goods.

  My worldly possessions didn’t amount to much. I had nothing of value I could give him, and it wasn’t like the man need money. But everyone knew that Tomas Mendoza didn’t do anything for free. I didn’t want to be the exception for a lot of reasons, but more than anything I didn’t want him to pity me.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. Once again, the only thing I had to offer was me.

  Tomas wanted me. He’d made that much clear.

  “There’s nowhere I need to be and nowhere I’d rather be tonight than with you.”

  So tonight I’d give him what he wanted.

  Nerves assaulted me and my knees actually went weak, and not in the good way.

  You can do this.

  I hadn’t had sex in a long time, and the sex I had had…I didn’t want to think about it, or Ryan. But, for Tomas, I would get through it. I’d just close my eyes and blank my mind.

  I fluffed up my hair, grabbed the little sample of lube I’d gotten from a magazine ages ago, curling it in my fist, slid on my heels, and headed down.

  I could hear him talking in his office when I reached the ground floor. His door was open, and going by the one-sided conversation, he was on the phone.

  “I don’t care. Turn the fucking city inside out,” he said. “And don’t call me again, not until you have something.”

  I knew he was talking about Ryan, that he had men searching for him. He was doing so much for me. I hated that he had to. That me being here had forced him to rearrange his life, that it had to be costing him. Those men he had out searching weren’t doing it for free. How would I ever repay him for everything he’d done for me?

  I looked down at myself.

  This was a start.

  He talked for a few more minutes, and as soon as I heard him finish his call, I squared my shoulders and tapped on the door. He looked up as I walked in, his dark gaze moving over me from the wild hair to the short skirt, and he stilled.

  I was no expert at seduction but I was a dancer, which meant I knew how to move, so I put some extra swing in my hips and, fighting down my nerves, strode toward him until I was standing right in front on him.

  Tomas looked down at me, his eyes searching mine. “You need something, Angel?”

  I smiled in a way I hoped was seductive and prayed he didn’t see how badly I was shaking or how terrified I was. I dropped my hands to his belt buckle and started undoing it. It wasn’t easy with the pack of lube in my hand, but I managed it. “Yeah, I need something,” I said, keeping the smile on my face, and hoped like hell it didn’t look as frozen as it felt.

  “You want me to fuck you?” he said bluntly, without pause, voice unreadable.

  I swallowed and dipped my chin, and worked at keeping my hands from shaking as I pulled his belt free.

  His head tilted to the side. “Why?”

  I blinked up at him. “What?”

  “Why do you want me to fuck you, Stephanie?”

  I dropped my hands away from the button of his pants and curled my trembling fingers into fists, my nails digging into the palm of one hand, the little packet making a crinkling sound in the other. “Why does anyone want sex?”

  His almost black eyes, that dark gaze, dropped to my mouth, down to my clenched fist, then back up to my eyes. “So if I put my hand up your dress, inside your panties, I’ll find you nice and wet?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t wet. I was too nervous to be turned on.

  He took my hand, lifted it, and uncurled my fingers, revealing the lube. “Or were you just planning on using this?”

  “Lots of people need it when they have sex,” I said, face burning.

  He nodded. “Yeah, they do.” He tossed the lube on his desk and started moving his thumb over my palm. “But you brought it with you because you don’t want to have sex, not with me, not tonight.”

  I wanted to vanish, disappear where I stood. “Yes, I…no, I…”

  “You’re white as a ghost. You’re trembling.” He let out a rough breath. “The last thing you are is turned on.”

  I straightened my spine and grabbed for the front of his pants again. “Don’t tell me what I am. I know what I’m doing.”

  He grabbed my hands in his larger ones, holding them still. “Go to bed, Stephanie,” he said gently.

  What the hell was going on? “But I thought…I thought you wanted this,” I said before I could stop myself.

  He curled his fingers around the side of my throat, thumb sliding over my jaw. “Oh, I do. I want you, pretty girl, so fucking bad, but right now this isn’t what you want. Do you really think I’m the kind of man to fuck a woman when she doesn’t want it? When her body and mind would rather be anywhere else but in my bed?”

  Oh God. I pulled my hands free and stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry…I thought…”

  “What did you think? That I was only here for you because I wanted something in return? That you owed me?”

  I couldn’t meet his eyes. That was exactly what I thought, what I’d convinced myself was the truth. The alternative—that Tomas actually cared for me—had been too hard for me to believe.

  He cursed. “You thought you owed me?”

  I didn’t answer. There was no use lying. He could see the truth on my face, in my eyes when I finally looked up at him.

  I expected him to be angry, but instead he shook his head, eyes growing more intense. “Everything I’ve done for you, I’d do again in a heartbeat. I don’t expect, I don’t want anything in return. I fucking hate that the shit you’ve been through has put that idea in your head.” His gaze moved over my face. “I know why you insisted on dancing for me this last year, Steph. I knew from the start. You were too afraid to ask for what you needed. I went with it because I knew you wouldn’t accept my help without giving me something in return. It’s the same reason you’re standing here offering yourself to me instead of believing that you’re worth everything I’ve done and so much more.” He shook his head. “We’re past that now. You’re past that.” He closed the gap between us and tucked my hair behind my ear. “You are worth it, Stephanie.” He licked his lips. “And when I fuck you, it’ll be because you’re so damn desperate for me you ache from it. Not because you think you owe me, but because no one else can ease that ache but me. Understand?”

  My breath was coming in ragged pants by the time he finished talking, and all I could do was nod.

  He gently turned me toward the door. “Now go to bed,” he said softly. “And I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Goose bumps lifted across my skin at the sound of that soft voice, and as I walked out the door on shaky legs, my skin tingling, feeling too tight, and being extremely aware of the slickness between my thighs as they slid together, I realized that I was turned on.

  I was so turned on I ached.

  5

  Stephanie

  I’d spent the day trying to avoid Tomas.

  God, he’d seen right through me.

  I hadn’t been able to avoid him all day, though, because he’d called me into his office to have lunch with him. My embarrassment over what happened almost had me passing out when I walked in. Tomas, on the other hand, wasn’t affected in the slightest. He’d been attentive, talkative, and again hadn’t even attempted to hide the interest I knew he had in me. The way he looked at me made me squirm, made me nervous. Not in a bad way, though, in a very good way.

  I had no idea what to do about any of it.

  I sat back on the couch. The one in the “TV room” was huge and comfy, and Tomas had told me he’d meet me there for dinner. I’d been sitting there a while. I’d go looking for him but I was kind of happy for the reprieve. The man was intense, and confusing, and so out-of-this-world good-looking he had my stomach in knots just from looking at him.

  “And when I fuck y
ou, it’ll be because you’re so damn desperate for me you ache from it.”

  My skin felt tight suddenly, a warm flush washing over me from head to toe. Just remembering his words affected me as much as they had last night, and there was no point denying it.

  I didn’t know what to make of the change in him, was struggling to get my head around it. The way he looked at me, touched me, the things he said…

  He was more like the Tomas I’d known before, before everything. Yeah, he was still miles away from that boy. He’d had a wall up even then. But I wondered if I’d ever see that side of him again. See him laugh like he used to with my dad. If I’d ever see him without the hard exterior. He used to hum while he carried and measured out lumber, and while he banged nails.

  I had seen him drop his guard once since then: when he found me that night on the bathroom floor. There’d been nothing between us then, no barriers, no masks. There’d only been him and me.

  “I’ve got you, Stephanie, I’ve got you now,” Tomas said, lifting me carefully in his arms.

  My eyes wouldn’t open. My mouth wouldn’t work.

  “Oh fuck, Angel.”

  His lips gently brushed my temple.

  “He’s never hurting you again. I’ll make sure he never hurts you again…”

  The door swung open and Tomas walked in carrying two dinner plates, snapping me from the memory—a place I sure as hell didn’t want to be.

  The first thing I noticed was that he wasn’t in his suit anymore and his hair looked damp. An image of him naked in the shower flashed through my mind before I could stop it. My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t help but eat up the sight of him.

  He was wearing jeans that were faded and hung low on his hips, and a navy-blue T-shirt that clung to his chest and strained around his biceps. My pulse started fluttering like crazy. This was how he used to dress. And, yep, he’d always worn a pair of jeans well.

  Who was I kidding? He wore everything well.

  He handed me a plate and I looked down at it. “Did you make this?”

  He smirked. “What do you think?”

  “I think you know how to reheat food.”

  He chuckled, the sound rough and sexy and unexpected. It made me kind of giddy.

  “Yep. And that’s as far as my culinary skills stretch.”

  He sat down at the other end of the couch, putting a whole cushion width between us. Then he grabbed the remote, flicked on the TV, sat back, and started eating.

  Some random show was on, but I couldn’t help but peek at him. His jaw was strong and dusted with a day’s growth. And his lips…

  I forced myself to look away, to watch the TV.

  This lasted only a few minutes before my gaze slid back to him, like it was being drawn by a magnet. This time to his hands and those long, scarred fingers. They were beautiful to me, made me feel safe. They made me feel a lot of things. What would they feel like moving over my bare skin?

  He turned to me then, that intensity back in his eyes. “Good?” he said, tilting his head, glancing at my plate.

  I hadn’t tried it yet. “Yep,” I lied.

  He smiled and it was wicked and beautiful and teasing.

  I quickly put some food on my fork, put it in my mouth, and stared unseeing at the TV again. Busted. My face got hot.

  We sat in silence, eating our dinner, and I finally gathered enough courage to ask the question that’d been on my mind all day. “Any sign of Ryan?”

  He leaned forward, putting his empty plate on the coffee table. “No. But it’s only a matter of time.”

  I dipped my chin, staring down at my plate.

  “I promise you, Stephanie, I will find him.”

  I glanced up. “I know you will.”

  “You trust me, don’t you, Angel?” he said.

  I loved when he called me that, so much, too much. “Yes.” I did, and there was no reason to tell him anything but the truth. He’d taken care of me back then and now, so I owed him that. “You actually care about what happens to me, don’t you?” I said, somehow finding the courage to say it.

  That dark stare turned heated. “I care about you.”

  I swallowed. That stare terrified me, but only because it drew me. Under that hot-blooded gaze, I felt like a moth to a flame. “Dad, he always liked you,” I said. “Even after you left and started…your other businesses, he always thought highly of you. Thank you…for looking out for me…”

  “I respected your dad, Stephanie. I did,” he said. “He was the best man I ever knew. He gave me a chance when no one else would, but I’m not doing this for him.”

  His gaze didn’t waver from mine, like he was letting what he’d said sink in. I wasn’t dumb, despite what Ryan said. Tomas had been saying things like that a lot the last few days. He wanted me. I guess I just didn’t understand why. Why me? I kept trying to come up with reasons that made sense.

  The silence stretched out and he looked away, back to the TV. We were halfway through a movie when my phone beeped. Tomas stilled, looking at my phone sitting on the coffee table in front of us. I reached out and my hand shook because I knew who it was going to be from.

  Why are you hiding from me, Steph?

  I blinked down at the screen. It beeped again and another message popped up on the screen.

  Are you fucking him? I’ll kill you if you are.

  He’d been at Stilettos—he had to have been if he knew I was with Tomas. Who else could he mean? I wondered why our driver took such a long route home from the club the other night, why he occasionally passed a car or zipped down a street. He was trying to shake off Ryan.

  I looked at Tomas. He was watching me. “Was he following us?”

  “He tried. I had men on his tail, but he ditched his car and took off on foot,” he said, giving me the truth.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry. I have it under control.”

  I knew he did, and I knew as long as I was with him I was safe, but still… “Please, don’t keep anything from me again,” I said.

  He dipped his chin and held out his hand. “I promise. Now will you show me the phone?”

  I passed it to him and watched his jaw get tight, his eyes turn hard, before coming back to me. “Are you okay?” he said, voice soft, too soft.

  “Yes,” I whispered back, but I wasn’t and we both knew it.

  He turned the phone off and put it back on the table facedown. He didn’t push, didn’t ask me a bunch of questions, he just sat beside me, quietly offering support. I wanted him to reach for me. God, I wanted him to pull me into his arms so badly I craved it. I craved his touch like a person presented with food after being starved for a month. But in my case, I’d been without for a whole lot longer.

  I had to ask for it, though. Tomas wasn’t going to push me for any kind of intimacy. I knew that now. It had to be me.

  I couldn’t make myself do it.

  So I turned back to the TV. I couldn’t tell you one thing that happened in the show, but I sat there until it finished, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead, trying to work up the courage. I hadn’t accepted or asked for comfort for such a long time, and God, I needed it. I needed it from Tomas.

  My heart raced faster as I turned to him, the words on the tip of my tongue…

  His eyes were closed.

  He was leaning back, one hand on his thigh, the other arm along the back of the couch. His features were relaxed, lashes resting in his cheeks, dark and thick.

  Now or never. Taking a deep breath, I slid closer until I was pressed against his side. He didn’t move, his breathing still slow and even, still asleep. It wasn’t enough, so I rested my head on his chest and carefully wrapped my arm around his waist.

  And I breathed.

  I breathed for the first time in a long time.

  6

  Tomas

  I didn’t move when Stephanie slid in beside me, when she wrapped herself around me.

  Thank fuck.


  Not reaching for her, not pulling her into my arms had killed me. But I knew it was the right move. Stephanie had closed herself off, had locked herself away, and no matter how much I wanted to I couldn’t force her to drop the barriers. She couldn’t do it for me, she had to do it for herself, and I knew with everything she’d gone through with Ryan, and what she was going through now, she needed the control. She needed to be in control of every aspect of her life.

  And she had to find it in her to ask for what she wanted.

  When I finally had her, it had to be on her terms, in her time, or I’d lose her again, and I’d do anything to avoid that. Anything.

  So I stayed where I was, letting the heat of her body soak through me, letting mine warm hers in return. We stayed like that for a long time, and when I finally felt her relax against me, when she finally gave in to it, I shifted my arm from the back of the couch, curling it around her, resting my hand on her shoulder.

  She stayed where she was, didn’t stiffen, didn’t try to pull away.

  I couldn’t help it, I leaned in and kissed the top of her head, breathing her in as I took her hand in mine and gently pried open her tight fist, stopping those nails of hers from digging into her flesh—something I saw her do a lot.

  I soothed her abused palm with soft strokes of my thumb, and her breath hitched, but still she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed in closer, wrapped her arm around me tighter, and took what she needed.

  I stood at the kitchen counter and downed a glass of water. I was sweaty and hot and exhausted, but my workout had done nothing to ease the hunger growing inside me.

  An image of Stephanie’s big green eyes opening—looking up at me after she’d slept on me most of the night on the couch—wouldn’t leave me, had tormented me when I went to my bed later until I finally gave up and headed to my gym downstairs to work off all my restless energy.

  The workout hadn’t been enough, but it had to suffice.