Sinning in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 2)

“Easy to take off,” I say, pushing off the wall and heading toward him.

His dark eyebrow rises, and I realize how that sounded.

“I meant, in case Skylar makes another mess,” I add, hastily.

Smirking faintly as I drop onto the couch next to him, he says, “Yeah, I bet you did.”

“I totally did. I’m so sweet and innocent, you don’t even know,” I add, sinking into the couch and leaning against his side.

“Yes, I remember how sweet and innocent you are,” he says, dryly.

“I didn’t hear any complaints.” Grabbing the remote control, I ask, “Wanna watch Smallville with me?”

“I think Carly will be peeved,” he replies.

I frown, cocking an eyebrow at him. Before I have a chance to ask what he means by that, he picks up my phone from the other side of the couch and hands it back.

I sigh, taking it from him. “Did you really go through my phone again? I’m not even your captive anymore, you really shouldn’t do that.”

“Rafe texted you, wanted to know if everything was going okay. I didn’t want to take the chance he’d rush home when you didn’t respond, so I told him all was well.”

“Kind of him to inquire,” I mutter, opening up my text messages to review the ones he already checked.

“You and your sister don’t talk about him,” he remarks.

I raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “What purpose did going through my messages to my sister serve?”

“I was curious.”

I love how he says that like it’s the only justification he needs. He knows by now it doesn’t bother me, but our circumstances are not what they were last time I was an open book for him, so he really shouldn’t be taking the same liberties. “I don’t think your date would approve of you being curious about what’s in my phone.”

“You are an aggressively jealous person, you know that?” he asks.

“You think I’m aggressive now, wait until next time we’re at the restaurant and I accidentally stab her with my steak knife. Get up to help her, accidentally stab her in the eye socket with the heel of my shoe. You haven’t seen me aggressive yet.”

“If you’re going to kill the waitress, can you not do it at the restaurant? That’s going to be a hell of a mess to clean up.”

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to kill her yet. I might leave her alive and chain her up so I can torture her. I’m gonna need those tricks you use to deal with blood, because I have grisly plans for this bitch.”

As if my unexaggerated homicidal intentions toward Slutty McBitchFace greatly amuse him, Sin smirks. “You’re crazy.”

“Wait until I wind a corkscrew into her abdomen and pull out her intestine while she screams. Then you’ll see crazy.”

“What has this girl done to you to deserve this kind of loathing?”

Cocking my head innocently, I ask, “Did you sleep with her?”

His amusement wanes slightly and his dark eyes meet mine. Maybe I don’t have a right to ask, maybe I don’t have a right to care, but I do. My insides feel as wobbly as gelatin in this eternal moment, the question out there in the universe so it’s real, but I don’t yet know the answer. The idea of him naked on top of another woman makes me feel things I don’t even know adequately awful words to express.

Finally, ending this horrible stretch of torture, he answers me. “I did not.”

Despite the joking demeanor, I feel like an entire building just lifted off my shoulders. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, I nod. “Good. I’ll probably let her live, then. Pick out a nice eye patch for her—something stylish, to say I’m sorry. I won’t be, but, you know.”

Sin grins, shaking his head at me. “You’re a little psycho.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have kissed her,” I state, smoothing down the satin of my robe.

“I didn’t kiss her.”