Glorious Sinner (Lawless Kings, #4.5)

by Sherilee Gray

  “No, no…noooo,” Sunny said. “I’m not telling you, but okay, I will tell you this.” The beautiful blonde pointed to her husband, Zeke, who was sitting across the room with some of the other guys as well as Tomas, which I had to say was a sight to see. I’d never seen so many muscles and so much beautiful ink in one place. “Our first night together was the first night we met.” She put her finger to her lips. “Shhhh, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want Hope to find out her mom propositioned her dad in a bar the first time they met.”

  We all burst out laughing.

  Ruby put a tray of shots on the table in front of us, plonked down in the seat beside me, and pushed her black-rimmed glasses higher with a finger. “Well, Neco was the opposite. My man held out for like…ever. Anyway, all I’m gonna say is we’ve more than made up for it.” She snickered and tucked her hair behind her ear. The ever-present dyed stripe of color down the side of her heart-shaped face was a vibrant red today and it matched her lipstick perfectly.

  She motioned to the tray and we all grabbed a shot glass and downed them together. I was tipsy—okay, a little more than tipsy. But I was having the best time I’d had in…well, I couldn’t remember having a better time.

  Willa leaned in and glanced over her shoulder at the men’s table. “I love how big Jude is. The things that man can do in the bedroom.”

  Fay, Willa’s neighbor and Raul’s partner, slapped her hand on the table. “Told you!” she cried. Fay was gorgeous, in her early sixties, and had this whole rocker chick, hippie vibe going on that she wore insanely well. “I told Willa a man that size could put her in some freaky good positions.”

  “Fay!” Willa said, cackling.

  We all laughed again so hard several tables of people were looking at us. “What about Tomas?” Lulu asked, her head tilted to the side, gray eyes full of interest. “Honestly, no offense, but the guy scared the shit out of me when I first met him.”

  Lulu had the most gorgeous auburn hair I’d ever seen, the kind of red I wished I’d had when I was a kid. Her husband, Hunter, had known Tomas since they were kids, I found out tonight. They’d had some ups and downs—more downs by the sounds of it—but Willa told me something had changed, that Jude thought Tomas had changed lately.

  I shook my head, I think with a little more vigor than was necessary, but I wanted to get my point across. “He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”

  Several eyes widened in disbelief.

  “Well, sweet definitely isn’t a word I would have associated with Tomas Mendoza,” Lulu said, a grin spreading across her face.

  “He’s been so great. He’s kind and caring and…and sexy as hell…and…” I wanted to share like the others had. I wanted to be part of this group of women so badly I actually ached. I realized they’d all leaned in, waiting for what I was about to say. I leaned in as well. “He kisses like he’s making love to your mouth, and I swear, I swear if he kissed me long enough, I’d…”

  “You’d what?” a low, rough-edged voice said against my ear.

  Everyone jumped back, looking guilty.

  Tomas stood there along with Zeke, Hunter, Neco, and Raul, and they were smirking.

  “Nothing!” I said, shooting to my feet. Yep, too fast. I swayed a little, the room tilting with me. Tomas caught me around the waist, and his smirk turned into a grin.

  “What are you grinning at?” I said.

  “You drunk, Steph?” he said against my ear.

  I shook my head, again with too much vigor, and, yep, swayed again. “Nope,” I said. “Just a little tipsy is all.”

  “Uh-huh.” He kissed my temple, one of his hands sliding up my back and under my hair to loosely hold onto the back of my neck. It was possessive, but not in a bad way. I shivered, the alcohol having another effect on me besides all the swaying.

  I looked up at him, and when his eyes met mine, a deep throb started up between my thighs. “I think I want to go home now.” My hand was on his chest and I slid it down to rest over his stomach. I could feel the ridges of his abs underneath and I shivered again. “If you’re ready.”

  “Angel, you want to go home, I’ll take you home.”

  I nodded and he took my hand. I turned to the table to say goodbye and the women there were all watching us. “I had a great night,” I said. The alcohol made me feel confident and I added, “I’d love to do this again sometime.”

  Willa jumped to her feet and pulled me into a tight hug. “Absolutely.”

  This was parroted by the others before Tomas started for the door. I waved at them all the way through the club until we hit the street. There was a car waiting outside for us and we climbed in. Tomas told his driver to take us home and sat back, pulling me in close to his side.

  I rested my head on his shoulder. “Do you think they liked me?”

  His arm was around my shoulders and he kissed the top of my head. “Of course. What’s not to like?”

  I shrugged. “My last real friend before Willa was Sally Tanner. You remember Sally?”

  He stilled. “Yeah, you went to school with her?”

  I wriggled closer and breathed him in. “Yep. God, you smell good.”

  He made a rough sound. “When was the last time you saw Sally?”

  I waved a hand. “I don’t know, um, I think right after my wedding. So, yeah, a long time ago. I’m rusty with the whole friend thing…”

  One minute I was on the seat, the next I was in Tomas’s lap, and he was cupping my jaw and looking into my eyes. “There’s no way they won’t like you. And anyone who doesn’t is a fucking idiot. I happen to know for a fact that none of those women are fucking idiots, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  I giggled, grinning at him. “Wise words, as always.”

  “No shit,” he said, grinning as well.

  I stared into his eyes. They were so dark, intensely dark. I took in all that was Tomas Mendoza. The strong nose and jaw, that sensual mouth. My hand slid from his shoulder to where his shirt opened at his throat, where those tattoos snaked up the side of his neck, and I traced one of the swirls with my finger.

  “You’re hot, like insanely sexy,” I said, the alcohol loosening my tongue, and right then I didn’t care.

  “Glad you think so,” he said, his voice getting deliciously gruff.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, following the ink on his neck lower to where it dipped below his collar. His skin was warm and smooth. “You must’ve been with a lot, like loads of women.” I looked up from what my finger was doing. “Have you been with loads of women?”

  He said nothing, just stared back at me. Okay, I’d take that as a yes.

  “Two at once?”

  He still said nothing. Damn.

  “A whole cheerleading squad?”

  His fingers flexed, digging into my flesh, and he made a choking sound. “No, I can honestly say I’ve never fucked an entire cheerleading squad.”

  “At least that’s something,” I muttered, only realizing I said it out loud and not in my head when he frowned down at me.

  “Where’s this coming from?”

  The thought of Tomas with another woman, let alone two at once, was not a good one. I didn’t want it in my head. “Nothing. Nowhere.” I tried to wriggle off his lap, but he held me there.

  “Stephanie,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’d prefer not to,” I said.

  “Tough shit. Start talking.”

  A laugh bubbled up my throat out of nowhere. “When you get pissy you sound like my Tomas, the boy who worked for my dad and ate my muffins.”

  “I wanted to eat a fuck of a lot more than your muffins,” he said.

  The laugh escaped and I went with it. When my chuckles dried up, I rested my head on his chest and sighed. “I’ve only ever been with one man. Just one. And he was a sadistic fucking asshole. I guess I’m worried I’ll pale in comparison.”

  He did his going-still thing again. “What?” he whispered.

  I decided to
push on. Might as well get it all out. At least then he wouldn’t think I was some selfish taking taker who just took all the time. “Because I’ve only been with Ryan, I don’t know what will happen when I’m with someone else. I don’t know how I’ll react in the moment, but most of all, I’m worried I’ll disappoint you.”

  He said nothing, was still holding himself rigid.

  “I’m not worth all the drama, Tomas. I’m not.” There, I’d said it, so he didn’t have to feel guilty when he got tired of all the crap that I brought with me. “Even if this is just casual…especially because this is casual,” I said.

  11

  Tomas

  The car pulled to a stop as Stephanie finished talking, and holding my shit together in that moment was the hardest thing I’d ever done because I wanted to roar how wrong she was. I wanted to make her believe me, and make it stick.

  The door opened and I helped her out, taking her hand so I could lead her to the front door. She was silent beside me. I could feel her gaze on me. Christ, she thought she had it all figured out.

  I shut and locked the door behind us, made sure the security system was on, and carried on up the stairs to my room and gently nudged Steph to sit on the bed.

  I grabbed a T-shirt out of my drawer. “Wear this, Angel.” I tossed it on the bed beside her and shut myself in the bathroom. Resting my hands on the counter, I closed my eyes and took calming breaths. I wasn’t angry at her, never her. But what had happened to her, and how deeply had it affected her? Fuck, I was afraid the scars on her soul were as permanent as the ones on her skin.

  Guilt clawed at me. How could I have not seen the signs back then? How could I have missed it? I was a fucking expert on the type of cowards who hit women, who preyed on those physically weaker than them. I knew, and yet I’d fucking missed it and I’d kept on missing it the few times I’d seen her at Stilettos before Ryan had nearly killed her.

  You were too busy avoiding her.

  Idiot. I thought I was doing the right thing, that staying away was for the best. She was married and I was me, an ex-thug turned criminal. Angry and twisted and selfish. A sinner.

  That call from Stephanie—finding her near death on her bathroom floor—my world had changed that day. She changed me, and I’d spent the last year trying to be worthy of her. Right now she was sitting in my room, on my bed, and she’d convinced herself that she wasn’t worth it.

  I shook my head. The woman had no idea what she meant to me, and I fucking knew she wasn’t ready to hear it despite the dance she did for me tonight, the song she’d selected. And I felt fucking helpless, something I hadn’t felt since I was a little kid living in a home full of violence and fear.

  Pushing away from the counter, I splashed water on my face, stripped off and tugged on the pajama bottoms I wore when she was in my bed, and walked out. She was still sitting where I’d left her, but she’d done as I asked and put on the shirt. That dark, possessive side of me loved seeing her in my clothes. Like a wild animal marking what was his. Yeah, fucked up, but I’d embraced that side of myself a long time ago. Dark and twisted or not, I would never, could never, do anything to hurt her.

  I’d give it all up, everything, for her.

  She looked up at me, eyes wide, and I walked to her and pulled her to her feet, leading her to her side of the bed and flicking back the sheets. “Climb in, Steph.”

  She did and watched me as I switched off the lights and climbed in beside her, letting me pull her into my side and wrap her in my arms. Her body was a little stiff beside me, and I could only imagine what was going on in her head, the toxic shit she’d convinced herself was true.

  “I need to make one thing very clear,” I said and held her tight to me. “I’m not a man that does things I don’t want to do. There aren’t many people that I care about in this world, even less that I let close. You, Stephanie, are at the top of that list.”

  She sucked in a breath and her fingers dug into my ribs.

  “When you say you’re…” I had to take in a steadying breath and when I spoke again, my voice was pure gravel. “When you say you’re not worth it, that fucking guts me. That’s him talking, that’s him still taking up real estate in your head, and it’s wrong. So fucking wrong.” I gently tilted her head back and looked down at her. “You are everything, Stephanie Gable. Fucking everything, understand?”

  Her eyes were wide in the dark, her lips soft, slightly parted. She nodded.

  I rolled her to her side and wrapped myself around her, face buried in her warm hair, holding her in a way I hoped showed her how fucking precious she was to me. How worth it she was to me.

  “And, Steph?” I rasped against her ear.

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing here.”

  Stephanie

  A car horn broke through my foggy brain and I rolled over, blinking at the dusky gray light trying to burst through the curtains. I was in Tomas’s bed, in his room. I’d been sleeping in here every night. I didn’t know how it happened but it just seemed right. I liked sleeping beside him.

  The bed beside me was empty now, though. I glanced around the room. The bathroom door was open and I couldn’t hear him moving about in there. I sat up tentatively. After all the drinks I’d had last night, I expected a hangover. Surprisingly, I felt okay. More than okay. The big glass of water on the bedside table and the bottle of aspirin beside it were more than likely the reason for that. Tomas had made me take them after we’d talked.

  The things he’d said to me flew through my mind.

  “There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing here.”

  I sucked in a steadying breath. I’d been pretty drunk last night, and I’d said a lot of things I wouldn’t usually. I’d let all my insecurities show, and Tomas hadn’t let me go to sleep until he’d addressed them.

  I should probably have felt freaked by his admission, but I didn’t, I felt…

  A smile curled my lips. I lifted my fingers to my mouth, stunned by the happiness bubbling up inside me. My heart raced and my hands grew clammy. Yes, there was some fear there. Letting in that happiness felt foreign. I’d avoided any kind of real happiness in my life for a long time. I hadn’t trusted it.

  But with Tomas it was different.

  I wanted this.

  And above all else, I trusted him.

  Throwing back the covers, I headed for the door. I didn’t bother putting something over my borrowed T-shirt, and jogged down the stairs to the ground floor.

  The first thing I noticed was the front door was open. I started across the black and white tiled floor, and spotted Tomas standing on the stoop when I got closer. He was wearing his black pajama pants, his feet and chest bare, and his gaze was fixed on something or someone across the street. He was so focused he didn’t hear me moving up behind him.

  I watched as he lifted a hand and crooked his finger, beckoning whoever it was to him. His face was in profile and the expression transforming his features was dark as hell, filled with rage.

  I followed his gaze and jerked to a stop.

  Ryan stood across the street, cars rushing past between them, staring back. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking edgy and angry, but he didn’t make a move toward Tomas, and that didn’t surprise me. Ryan was a coward. He’d never take on Tomas, never in a million years. I realized that was why, when confronted with my abuser for the first time since he’d almost killed me a year ago, I didn’t run in fear. I didn’t shatter.

  Tomas wouldn’t let him anywhere near me.

  And I would never let that asshole hurt me again. I wouldn’t let him destroy my hard-won happiness. Something I’d been sure I’d never truly feel again.

  My gaze moved back to Tomas and my heart thumped hard against the back of my ribs. He held himself rigid, every muscle taut, fists clenched, the veins and tendons in his arms bulging. And he was shaking with rage. Suddenly, he made a sound, a mix between a growl and a snarl, a
nd took the first step, about to go after Ryan.

  “Don’t, Tomas,” I said moving closer. “Please.”

  He stopped suddenly, shoulders stiffening, fingers curling and uncurling at his side. If he went out there he would kill Ryan. He’d kill him in the street in front of everyone and then I’d lose him. I would not to lose him now that I finally had him. I squared my shoulders, refused to acknowledge the echoes of past fear, the shadows trying to creep in, and summoning all my courage, walked out the door.

  I only spared Ryan a glance and I won’t deny the look on his face when he saw me gave me satisfaction. I’d never seen that look on his face before. Complete and utter desolation. Had he really thought I’d take him back? That I’d let him anywhere near me?

  I focused on Tomas, not caring what Ryan felt or did. He was nothing. A ghost.

  Moving up behind Tomas, I pressed my palms to his back. His skin was hot under my hands, even hotter against my lips when I kissed the spot between his shoulder blades.

  When he didn’t move, I slid my arms around his waist, hands settling over his stomach. His abs tightened under my palms. “Come back inside,” I said softly.

  “Go back upstairs, Steph,” he said, the words forced through gritted teeth. “I need to do this.”

  I squeezed him tighter. “Please, Tomas.”

  “Stephanie…”

  “He’s not worth it,” I said and kissed his heated skin again. “Please…please come inside with me.”

  I glanced over at Ryan, who wasn’t looking at us anymore. His gaze was locked on two men dressed in dark suits, crossing the street, rushing toward him. Tomas’s men. Ryan spun away and started to run off, with Tomas’s men going after him.

  Tomas stiffened like he was about to do the same, but I clung tighter. “He’s not worth it. He’s not worth me losing you,” I said, pleading with him because I knew with everything in me it wouldn’t end well. Tomas was vibrating in my arms, his rage beyond any kind of control.

  There was a beat of silence, another, then Tomas turned sharply in my arms, scooped me up, and carried me back inside, kicking the door closed behind him.