Sinning in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 2) - Page 76

Maybe I should confess. It’s not like I did anything wrong. Well, okay, the mauling on the couch he probably wouldn’t approve of, but calling Sin for help wasn’t wrong, and Rafe and I aren’t involved exclusively.

“Why is he here?” I ask, keeping my tone as level as possible.

“Business. Why else?”

Sighing, I throw back the blanket and push my legs over the side of the bed. “Fine. Give me like ten minutes.”

25

Sin

This is the last place in the universe I want to be this morning.

I think Rafe may have checked his security footage when he got home last night and he knows I was here. Or maybe Laurel was pissed enough that she told him, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just his fucking sixth sense for people, and he smells me doing sneaky shit.

I don’t like being the man who does sneaky shit—not this type of sneaky shit, anyway. Doing dirty work is one thing, but being an untrustworthy asshole you can’t trust around your woman is not for me.

When I told Rafe I would rather meet away from the house like we talked about, he declined. Insisted I come to his house instead. Normally that would be fine, but after a sleepless night spent reliving last night with Laurel, and the way all that ended, I wanted to stay away. Attempting to steer us away from his house, I told him I was hungry, we should meet for breakfast somewhere.

I regret every last syllable when Laurel struts into the kitchen, not even sparing me a glance. She’s wearing the same thing she wore last night when I left, and I can still feel the soft fabric beneath my fingertips. Her skimpy robe is secured around her small waist, a little swatch of fabric from her bra visible underneath. Without shyness—and without words—she walks over to the cupboard with her back to us and bends over.

I turn my head swiftly, too tempted to look at the sight of her ass displayed right in front of me. Motherfucker. My gaze flickers to Rafe and of course he’s watching me. He should be looking at Laurel’s ass like I would be, but no, she’s bait and he wants to see if I get a hook through my lip.

Sighing, I grab the black

coffee cup in front of me and go to take a drink, forgetting I emptied it while I was waiting for him to come back downstairs. I want to get some more, but not enough to walk over and stand close to Laurel while I pour it. Definitely not enough to tell her to pour me some. Not after last night.

Only I don’t have to, because Rafe says, “Sin needs coffee.”

“Then he should go to Starbucks,” Laurel states, dumping some olive oil into the pan she just put on the stove. “It’s not my job to make him breakfast and I’m doing that. If he wants full service, maybe he should get a waitress,” she snaps, turning up the heat with relish.

Despite her words, as soon as she finishes dumping the olive oil, she grabs the coffee pot and comes over to wordlessly fill my mug.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

“I hope it’s not too hot,” she says, with enough bite that I know she hopes the opposite.

I ignore her attitude and take a sip, looking right at her. “Nope. It’s perfect.”

“Wonderful.” She turns around and goes back to put the coffee pot down, then returns to… brandishing a knife. Not sure I want her to be handling a knife when she wants to kill me.

“Uh, what are you doing over there?” I ask, eyeing the huge blade she selected.

“Cooking,” she replies.

“No shit. Why do you need a knife to make eggs?”

Flashing me a smile over her shoulder, she says, “Why? Are you worried?”

“Little bit.”

“Good,” she says cheerfully, grabbing a cutting board out of the cupboard. I don’t like the way she navigates Rafe’s kitchen. She knows her way around it already, and as dumb a thing as it is to get annoyed about, I hate the idea of her cooking for him. Taking care of him. She shouldn’t be doing that. Not for him.

Rafe’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Are we gonna get back to work?”

“It’s hard to focus when I’m worried about getting stabbed,” I inform him.

Smiling faintly, Rafe nods his head at Laurel, even though she can’t see him. “You were just asking if I’d clean up a murder scene for you last night in bed. Were you talking about Sin?”

Tags: Sam Mariano Vegas Morellis Erotic
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