Staying in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 1) - Page 40

Okay, I’m starting to remember why he’s bad.

There’s also the teeny tiny fact that my whole life is back east, so even if I ignored all that sound logic and our utter incompatibility, our lives are impossible to intertwine.

The most I could have with Sin would be a vacation hook-up. While I’ll admit to being attracted to him and curious about what the sex would be like, I’ve already been in this position once before. I already did the vacation hook-up with a dangerous stranger, and it holds much less appeal now that I’ve watched that one crash and burn. I told myself—and my sister—that I was just going to let loose and have a few days of harmless fun with Rafe back in Chicago, and look where that landed me.

So much fucking fun.

No, there’s no such thing with these men. They can’t give you no-strings fun; they’re made of fucking strings, and tumbling into bed with one means you get all tied up with them—in my case, very literally.

Thankfully, Sin never answers me. He dropped the line, I took the bait, and instead of reeling me in, he just looked me over until I finished eating the whole worm.

Now the moment has passed and I have reclaimed my brain, processing and dumping the terrible idea of indulging this ill-fated attraction. Clearing my throat to get his attention, I flash him a straight face and pull on my cuffs. “Take these off, please. I need to go pee.”

15

Rafe

What are you smiling for?”

I glance up from my phone at the sound of Sin’s suspicious tone. After a long, grueling day, we’re unwinding in the VIP section at one of my favorite clubs. There are plenty of girls here to choose from, but one of my former flames from L.A. is in town tonight; that’s what I’m smiling about.

I’ve been in a funk since Laurel came back, and it’s time for my dry spell to end. Last night I went home alone—again. It’s not that spending two nights alone never happens, but I don’t want to go home alone tonight. I don’t want to be in a funk. I want for my life to return to normal, to how things were before that damn girl made waves and threw me off my game. So, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

“Jayla,” I answer.

Dead-eyed, he repeats, “Jayla.”

“She’s a friend from out of town.”

Bringing his whiskey to his lips, Sin murmurs, “I don’t care who Jayla is.”

“Well, anyway, she’s in town for a couple nights and she wants to meet up. I don’t suppose you want to go with me, make sure no one kills me?”

“To meet up with this girl,” he says, to verify. “You planning to fuck her?”

“No, we’re going to meet up for an impromptu Bible study. What kind of fucking question is that? Of course I’m planning to fuck her.”

Taking a long sip, Sin nods his head. “I’ll go. Only if I can bring a date though; I don’t feel like being your third wheel tonight.”

That throws me for a fucking loop. Sin does not date. Presumably he fucks from time to time, but to be honest, I don’t even have much proof of that. “You want to bring a date?” I ask, failing to hide my surprise.

“Is that allowed?” he asks darkly, like my visible shock annoys him.

“Yeah, of course that’s allowed. Sorry, I just… I can’t think of a time since Paula when you’ve brought a date to anything.”

“Yeah, well, I want to bring one tonight.”

Sin finishes his drink and leaves shortly after. I forgot how flaky Jayla could be; by the time we meet up, the location has changed three different times. Finally, aggravated by her inconsistency, I tell her we’re meeting at my restaurant and that’s it. I text Sin to let him know about the change of plans, and he says they’ll be there.

They’ll be there.

It’s fucking unprecedented.

When I think about it, it makes sense though. Might even be why he reacted so strangely to Laurel and the pregnancy issue. When men hit the point in life where they decide to settle down, their whole perspective shifts. That’s how they can go from me—horrified by the mere prospect of fucking the same woman for the rest of all time—to some fucking asshole with a house and a wife in Connecticut, like my dumbass cousin Vince. Hell, even Mateo. I never thought he would get married, but he got bit by the bug, too.

An infectious disease, that. Me, I have fucking immunity.

Sin doesn’t. For a long time, I know the idea of ever doing any of that again was out of the question for him, but not because he didn’t like it. Maybe enough time has finally passed. Maybe he’s finally let his wounds heal and he’s ready to try again. Could be Sin has been seeing someone on the sly, and now that he cares about someone again, he looks at my situation with a different eye.

Tags: Sam Mariano Vegas Morellis Erotic
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