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“Suicide is a sin,” he rasps, his stubble grazing my cheek. “But Devil’s Dip has a way of making you want to throw yourself over the edge, doesn’t it?”
“Stealing is a sin, Aurora.”
“Fuck me, brother,” Rafe barks down the aisle. “Do you own any footwear that aren’t steel-capped boots? You stomp around like the Big Bad Wolf from Little Red Riding Hood.” Gabe looms over us like a storm cloud and scowls down at Rafe. “All the better to kick your head in with, my dear,” he growls. “Holy shit, that’s the most I’ve heard you talk all year,” Rafe shoots back with an easy smile. “Good to see you, bro.”
“I don’t smoke.” My eyes shoot upward, locking on his. What? He was smoking up on the cliff; that’s how I knew he was there in the first place. We stare at each other. His expression is disinterested as always, but behind his eyes something dark glitters. A challenge. Like he’s silently goading me to dispute his lie. I tilt my chin up and he cocks an eyebrow, as if to say, go on. I dare you.
“Goodnight, Aurora.” The baritone in his voice sends a hot flush through my body. The shells of my ears burn, and I find that I close my eyes, just for the briefest of moments.
“Are you a bad girl, Aurora?” I swallow. His eyes dance with dark amusement, but his tone is more sinister. Dripping with an insinuation that ignites a flame between my thighs. “Sometimes.”
He’s so handsome it makes my teeth ache.
And for the first time since we met, I see her smile. I think I like it when she smiles.
I’m utterly, madly, unacceptably obsessed with Angelo Visconti. My fiance's nephew, near-stranger, and keeper of my darkest secrets. And suddenly, my sin isn’t so funny anymore.
“You know what Mama always used to say,” I say quietly, tugging another cigarette out the carton and lighting it. “Good cancels out the bad.” My brother is silent for a beat, but I can hear the cogs in his brain clicking into place. “That’s why you left. You thought Mama would have wanted you to turn good, because it’ll cancel out all the bad from the rest of the family. You left because of Mama.”
He puts his hand over mine and lifts it to his face. Grazes his lips over it. “Stay in the car, Aurora,” he murmurs into my knuckles, making every nerve ending in my body buzz.
“Fuck, Aurora.” When he turns around, his eyes are as wild. Hungry. “You’re my uncle’s fiancee. I can’t touch you.” “Who are you trying to convince—me or yourself?” The vein in his temple ticks. His gaze mists over. In one, large step, he closes the gap between us. “Do. Not. Tempt. Me.”
“So, uh. Where were you on Wednesday?” “Why? Did you miss me?” “Yes.” Her answer comes quick and thick. It’s followed by the most adorable little laugh. Coming to a halt to meet the gate, I drop my head against the backrest and close my eyes. “Don’t test me today, Aurora. I’ve spent nine years resisting temptation. You’re making it very hard for me to get to a decade.”
“You’re wearing sunglasses too,” I snap back, jerking my chin up to his mirrored Aviators. “What’s your excuse?” “How else am I meant to check out your ass without getting caught?”
“Fuck, Aurora. I love it when you scream for me. It makes me want to spread that perfect pussy and shove my cock inside you and give you something to really scream about.”
“You know, I think I have the matching bra somewhere,” I say dryly. “Uh, yeah. Can I, um, get it back?” “No, it’s a souvenir.” “Of what?” she whispers thickly. “Of the time I almost fucked the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”
“Look at me.” While his voice is firm, when I meet his gaze, his eyes are soft. They search mine under knitted brows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” “Why do you care?” I snap back, looking away. He yanks me closer by my wrist, until my nose brushes against his hard chest. “Of course I care,” he growls, “I think I’ve made that very fucking clear.”
“If you think I’m anything but crazy about you, Rory, then you’re fucking insane.”
“Aurora.” The pure, unfiltered anger in Angelo’s voice stops me in my tracks. I spin around to face him. He’s standing on the bottom step, glaring at me, hands clenched at his sides. “So help me God, if you take another step, I will not be responsible for what I’ll do.” “You’re not a made man, anymore. Remember?” I spit. “You’re just dressed like one.”
Angelo Visconti isn’t a knight in shining armor, he’s a monster in an Armani suit.
“He doesn’t recognize me outside of the forest, Angelo. That’s why it can’t be knocked down, and that’s why we can’t leave. What my father and I have, it doesn’t exist outside of it.”
“How does it feel?” I don’t know whether he’s talking about the gun or his cock, now straining to slip between my ass cheeks. I swallow. “Big.”
“Rory?” His thumb pad carves a trail over my jawline. It stops at the corner of my mouth, but I turn my head to catch it between my lips. He lets out a soft moan, watching me, eyes half-lidded with lust, as I slowly lick it. “Yes?” Danger sparking in his eyes, he pushes his thumb further into my mouth, and with wetness pooling between my thighs, I open my mouth wider to take him all in. “Out of all my sins, you’re my favorite.”
“I swear to God, Rory. You better know how to fly, because if you fall, I’m coming with you.”
“Fuck, baby. Do you know what it feels like to kill a man?” “A man like Alberto? Probably pretty good.” Despite his fury, dark amusement tugs at his lips. He gives a small shake of his head. Disbelief. “My bad girl.”
“I’m taking what’s mine” “Yours?” He drops me onto the passenger seat of his car and leans against the door frame. “Yeah. A capo needs a wife. Guess I choose you.” Heat rips through my veins, and I can feel my heart sewing itself back together. “You guess?” I whisper, looking up at him through my lashes. He grips my chin. Runs a soft line over my bottom lip. “I know. I’ve always fucking known.”
“So, now you’re stuck with another old man.” “I guess I am.” His gaze flashes. “I’m old enough to be your father. How does that make you feel?” Heart thumping, I feign boredom. Look up at him through my lashes. “Does that mean I can call you daddy now?” Dark amusement graces his features. He gives a small shake of his head. “Come here.”
“I liked that sweater.” “You can have all my sweaters.”
“I stick by what I said,” he mutters. “And what was that?” I rasp back, sinking into the warmth of the bath. “You’re worth starting a war for.”
“Give. Me. Names.” “Angelo—” “Names, Rory.” His voice is rough and strangled, like he’s trying—and failing—to suppress his rage. “And addresses. Now.”
“I have killed every man on this coast that has touched you inappropriately. From Max to my own fucking uncle. These kids are next, and if anybody besides me puts so much of a finger on you from now on, they’ll be killed too.”
“I can’t believe Angelo Visconti is in love with you.” My ears grow hot at the mere sound of the word. “He’s not.” “Shut up, Rory. He left his entire life in England and came back to Devil’s Dip for you. He’s so in love with you that it makes me sick.” “She’s right, I am.”
“I love you.” His chest rises, then falls as he releases a long hiss. “I’m a bad man, Magpie.” “And I’m a bad girl. What’s your point?”
“Not just regular happy. I mean really fucking happy,” he growls into my mouth, palming my ass to pull me on top of him. “Can’t stop fucking smiling, don’t want to go to sleep because reality is better than your dreams kind of happy. I want to make you so damn happy that you shit sunshine and piss rainbows and people think you’re as high as a kite when you walk into a room.” He nips my lower lip in mild frustration, and his fingers dig deep into the back of my thighs as he slides me up to his groin. “If you want to be mine, I’ll make you that happy, Rory.”
“I’ll show you what it looks like. Now, be a good girl and moan my name while I worship you.”
“I’m sore,” I say shyly. “Then I’ll kiss it better,” he deadpans, without missing a beat.
“What do you reckon, Magpie?” “W-what?” “Will he fall, or fly?” My breath dances between us in a puff of condensation. It’s labored and heavy, fueled by a morbid buzz of adrenaline that swirls in my lungs. Holy crow. My body is buzzing with the thrill, the danger of it all. “Fall,” I choke out. “Fall all the way to hell.” He nods. “Let’s hope,” he grinds out.
“You know, that’s not very good for the environment.” “And you’re not very good for me,” he growls, nipping at my ear. He spins me around and palms my ass, pulling my hips flush against his. “You’re hard,” I smirk, grinding against his erection. “See? Not good for me. Ever since I met you I walk around with a permanent hard-on.”
