Skin of a Sinner

by Avina St. Graves

“You could have ruined my hair,” I growl at Rico. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? It would be my pleasure to ruin you, sweetheart.” He winks.

“Time to get rich.” Rico grins. Then the lunatic wraps his arm around my shoulders and whistles to get Roman’s attention. The cherry on top of this mess? When Roman looks our way, Rico kisses my cheek.

Without thinking, I let my reflexes take over. I slam my elbow into Rico’s ribs. When he keels over—no hard feelings, Rico—I straighten my arm and ram my fist into his groin. It isn’t hard enough to do any real damage, but it’s enough for Roman’s eyes to brighten with pleasure.

I THOUGHT IT SAID RICO'S EYES BRIGHTENED WITH PLEASURE LMAOOO

My entire body is on fire when he taps the tattoo of my name, blowing me a kiss. Roman—Ares—blew me a kiss. Not at home. Not at a game in high school. No, he did it in front of Chicago’s biggest mafia family, the freaking Bratva, a cartel, and Lord knows how many other criminals.

AWWWW

1) The romance authors lied. Real-life mobsters are scary, ugly, the bad kind of dangerous, and should not be romanticized.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“A girl, pigtails, yay high. Which bus did she take?” I leave no room for negotiations with my question. The lady stares at me for a moment. Just as I’m about to bark at her, she raises her hand to silence me. “Who’s she to you?” I narrow my eyes. “Everything.” What is this girls stick together bullshit? Sighing, she shakes her head. “She could only afford to go to Cheyenne.” Where the fuck is Cheyenne? I grunt and run back to my car, hearing the lady mutter, “No wonder she left you.”

LMAOOOOO

I’ve lined up my cock with her entrance. “Any last words?”

HELP