Sinning in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 2)

est us, and imprisons me with his body. All of a sudden the anger gets pushed down. I look at his massive shoulders, at the muscular wall of man hovering inches from my body—rather intimidating, to be honest. It’s easy to forget Rafe is dangerous because he’s pretty easygoing by default, but I think I’m about to get a peek at what he’s like when he’s pissed.

“I’ve had about enough of this damned mouth tonight, Laurel,” he tells me, grasping my jaw in his large hand.

“Remember when you had no complaints about my mouth?” I murmur.

He nods, watching me with his intense amber eyes. “I do. Remember when it hadn’t been wrapped around my enforcer’s cock?”

Lowering my eyes, I swallow down the jab I want to throw at him. This is not the time. I can smell alcohol on his breath, and he’s clearly reaching the end of his good humor for the evening. I don’t think Rafe would physically hurt me, but I don’t know him all that well, either.

When I don’t respond, he goes on, the tone of his voice low and rough. “I see the little fucking looks you keep stealing at him, Laurel. You wanna make me look like an asshole? Is that what you want?”

“I think what makes you look like an asshole is the parade of other skanks you can’t seem to shake.” I tell him, despite my better judgment. “I don’t enjoy going out with you when I don’t know how many scantily clad women are going to salivate over you at the table, Rafe. That’s not fun.”

“At least I’m not salivating over someone else,” he says, his voice low with anger.

I ignore his jab and look him straight in the eye. “You flirted with our waitress right in front of me.”

“You jumped to Sin’s defense in front of my fucking second-in-command.”

I did do that. I don’t have a good defense for that, so I drop my gaze again. “There’s no reason for you to be mean to him. He hasn’t done anything to you.”

His tone is nearly as sharp as his words. “He made you come, didn’t he?”

I flinch less at the crudeness of the question, and more at the memory it triggers of Sin’s hands on my body.

Rafe releases my jaw so he can trace the curve of my shoulder. “How many times did you let him play with your pussy, Laurel? How many times did he fuck you? How many times did you let him put his cock in your mouth? I need numbers.”

Every word he says is like a new, sharper dagger lodged right in my chest cavity. Dutifully, my heart tries to beat around each blade, but damn, those memories hurt.

“That’s none of your business,” I tell him. “You give me your numbers and I’ll give you mine. You tell me how many women you’ve been inside, how many mouths your cock has been in. You get back to me with your score, and I’ll be happy to share mine.”

Grabbing me by the throat hard enough that I gasp, he pushes me harder against the wall. “It is my business, Laurel. You’re my property and he’s my employee. I want to know how many fucking bonuses he got.”

I glare at him, pushing against his chest. “Get off me.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” he says, pressing a finger to the pulse thundering in my neck. Smiling a slow smile, he leans in to kiss my neck.

“No,” I say, shoving uselessly against his chest. “We don’t go from ‘you’re my property’ to neck-kissing that fast. Plutonium. Plutonium, plutonium, plutonium.”

“You need to stop using that word when your clothes are still on. Maybe you don’t remember how safe words work, Laurel. Maybe it’s been too long since I last fucked you and you need a reminder.”

“I told you I wasn’t ready,” I say, shoving against his chest with more anger this time.

I certainly haven’t gained any strength in the last minute, but this time he eases back enough to look at me.

“You don’t listen to me. I told you I wasn’t ready, and you ignored me. I told you I didn’t want to see him, and you invited him to the club our first night out.”

His territorial anger seems to take a backseat as he recognizes real feelings bubbling out of me. “He works for me, Laurel. He’s going to be around. You’ve gotta get over it.”

“What if I can’t?”

I swear, he nearly rolls his eyes. He manages to stop himself, but I see how close he comes. Making a greater attempt at patience, he tells me, “You will. You just need a little more time. A few more days, maybe. It doesn’t help that we’ve had such a rocky start. By comparison, Sin doesn’t bring a whole hell of a lot of excitement with him.”

I hate his subtle putdowns. “Stop saying things like that. Stop being mean to him.”

“He isn’t yours to defend, Laurel.” Aggravation flickers across his handsome features. “If you don’t find a way to get over him, I’m gonna have to be a whole lot meaner.” Eyebrows rising, he demands, “You need incentive? You want me tell you the only alternative to you getting over it? The only way I can make it so you don’t have to see him anymore?”

Even before he answers his own questions, my blood runs cold. I can’t find the words to speak, so I stay quiet.