Sinful Hands (Chained Hearts Duet 3)

“How do you feel that she’s a whore?”

“Was,” I correct him.

“That’s like saying the sky isn’t blue. It is what it is, and she was a whore.”

“I’d watch how you talk about her,” I warn, stepping closer to him.

“Whore. You want to fuck that whore. Why don’t you just pull some cash out and see how far she lets you get? I’m sure for the right amount, she’ll happily spread her legs.”

It takes two breaths for my fist to connect with his face, then another to watch him drop. As soon as he hits the ground, I kick him in the gut, making him grunt, for good fucking measure.

“Again, watch your fucking mouth.”

“You did deserve that,” Sailor says calmly. I look up and Chanel is standing there, eyes wide, with Sailor next to her. Sailor turns to Chanel, who can’t seem to move or even blink, and says to her, “Why don’t you go lie down?”

“I’d rather have a shot.” Chanel’s eyes leave mine before she walks back into the house.

Joey grunts as he sits up. “I knew it would get a reaction from you.” He smirks. “You like her. More than anyone I’ve ever seen before, apart from your mama.” He stands and wipes the blood from his nose. “I better go apologize.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” I reach out to stop him, but when my hand touches his chest, he pushes it away. “Stay the fuck away from her, and me, if you want to continue to breathe,” I snarl, as I stomp away.

“I’m your superior,” Joey shouts. “You will respect me.”

Who the fuck even says shit like that?

“When I burry you twelve feet under, maybe. I respect no man.” I walk into the house and find Chanel in the bar area. She’s pouring herself a drink and I sidle up next to her. She pours me one too and slides it across to me.

“Is that all I will ever be? Is that all you people will ever see me as?” she asks in a soft voice.

Chanel doesn’t do soft.

Chanel never does soft.

“I don’t see you that way at all.”

Her eyes look up at me with mercy instead of loathing for the first time. “If you weren’t such an asshole, I would kiss you right now. But I hate to kiss.” She picks up a shot glass and throws it back.

“I’d happily take that kiss, even if you hated everything about it.”

“You really do have serious issues. You’re wanting something from me I will never give.”

“And what is that?” I ask.

“Me. You may get pieces of me, but that’s all you will ever get.” She stands and grabs the bottle. When she gets to the door, she looks back. “I’m about to let you take your first piece. Come on, big boy, let’s see what you got.”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice.

I get up and follow her eagerly to her room.

14

Chanel

It’s probably the worst mistake of my life, but no one has ever defended me like that before, and it switched something inside me. A switch I never thought could be toggled. And that may be an issue, but right now, with a few shots in me and his warm hand touching mine, I’m ready to let him show me how much he wants what he keeps on asking for.

Me.

Just before I get to my room, he pulls my hand and directs me to his. I’d taken notice that it was his room when Sailor was showing me around. Though they did say he usually goes to a hotel to stay, because he prefers his own space.

As soon as we enter, he shuts the door behind me and then pushes me up against the wall. My breathing picks up at his nearness.

What have I gotten myself into?

This is absolutely stupid.

Can someone uttering a few words in my defense really make me want him?

After everything he’s done? Because we all know how fucked-up he is.

He’s careful when he leans into me. His lips dance across my skin smelling me as he goes, starting from my neck and dragging down until he gets to my dress, which is only held together with buttons up the front. I went swimming earlier, so it was easy to put this on over the top of my swimsuit.

I wonder when he killed last, besides Chase. Does blood coat those strong hands that are now glued to my bare skin? The hand that has mine trapped against the door releases me, then steps back and reaches for something in his pocket. He smirks as he pulls out a pocket knife.

“You are familiar with this.” I nod my head, unable to speak, nerves and excitement coat every inch of me. “I’ve been dreaming about this.” He hooks the knife into my dress and, in one swift movement, slides it all the way up, the buttons popping off one by one.