Sinners Anonymous (Sinners Anonymous, #1)

by Somme Sketcher

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Aurora.”

The bullet enters Max right between the eyes and exits out the back of his skull, taking half his brain with it. His head hits the table with a heavy thud, his blood turning the lace tablecloth crimson.

“Yeah, you’ve probably seen the cards around.” Please god, no. “It’s called Sinners Anonymous.”

But I was going to kill him anyway. Like I said, utterly fucking insane.

“I was going to say, unattractive.” Frustration claws at my throat, threatening to cut off my air supply if I don’t let it out. “I’m not a whore.” “You’re not unattractive, either.”

“Last week, I went into Alberto’s closet and cut a hole in the pocket of every suit.” My eyes dart to his expressionless face. “Small ones, the size of a dime. But big enough for him to lose his car keys four times in the last seven days.”

Don’t. Don’t stick your dick in crazy. Don’t let them stay the night.

Maybe she’d let me punish her by bending her over my knee, pulling down those obscenely tight gym leggings, and giving that ass a good spanking. Or maybe I can elicit other trivial confessions out of her by winding my fist in those golden curls my uncle seems to hate so much, and—

Pink. Lace. Of course it is. I bet her panties always match, too. In fact, I bet her whole underwear collection is as sweet and silly as her stupid sins. The girl wouldn’t know a real sin if it slapped her in the face. God, I can’t stand girls like her.

And for the first time since we met, I see her smile. I think I like it when she smiles.

“What’s your type, cugino?” Curly-haired and unavailable.

“Did you know, there’s thirteen pairs of American Bald Eagles in that park? It’s more than just a few shitty trees and a swamp.”

He glances down at the red ring of lipstick around the filter and pauses. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and I swear, I see his pulse in his jaw. “Oh—” But before I can finish my sentence, he slides the cigarette between his lips and inhales.

He keyed his uncle’s car because of that kiss.

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.

“I’ll always be your ride-or-die, and I know Gabe feels the same way. You want to burn this fucking coast down, I’ll lend you my lighter. But please, for the love of God, don’t make me go to war with our cousins over a piece of pussy.”

“If you belonged to me and dressed like that around other men, I’d pull down those skimpy bottoms and spank your ass until it was raw.”

“Angelo—” He tightens his grip. Moves his pinky up a millimeter. “A sin. Now.” Holy crow. Alberto is crossing the drive toward us and Angelo’s hand is practically on my pussy. “I don’t know. I don’t know—” “Yes, you do.” “Please,” I whisper, my gaze frantically watching Alberto’s own. He’s just feet from the car now. “Let me go.” “Then tell me.” “I can’t.” “I’m not giving the option, Aurora.” “No—” “Now.” Alberto is passing the front tires. “This morning, in the sea. I was fingering myself thinking about you.”

“Aurora.” I come to a reluctant stop and tilt my head to the sky. “I don’t care what Alberto says. Wear your hair curly.”

But her telling me she fingered herself while watching me on the shore? A death sentence.

“You’re moving back. You just don’t know it yet.” “No. I just thought it’d be nice to have a base that isn’t under Dante’s roof—” “No. You won’t leave her here, not with him.”

“When you realize you’re moving back, let me know.” His jaw ticks. “Because when you steal Uncle Alberto’s girl, I promise you, you’re going to need a fucking army.”

“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.”

“Don’t you dare look away from me, Aurora. I want to see the look on your face when you come.” I turn back to him and he cocks his head, satisfied. “Good girl. Now, rub your clit as hard as you can.”

With a flash of anger in her eyes, she widens the space between us. Before I can stop myself, my hand shoots out and I drag her back against my chest. I’m not done having her so close. She glares at my grip on her arm pointedly.

Behind me, Angelo stills. “Use your words, Rory.”

His voice darkens. “Reach over and spread yourself for me.” Panting, I do as I’m told, reaching around and pulling my cheeks apart. My knees buckle under the vibrations of his moan against my pussy. “You like atoning for your sins, don’t you, baby?”

A cold gust of wind off the Pacific whips past us, and I hear Rory’s teeth chatter. Instinctively, I turn to face her and wrap my jacket tighter around her.

“Promise me something, Rory.” I feel her pulse flicker against my thumb. “What?” she whispers. “We’ll find him before your wedding.” She pauses. “Why?” “Because seeing you in your engagement dress is hard enough. But seeing you in your wedding dress?” A growl vibrates deep within me. I tighten my grip. “That’ll be fucking torture.”

“It means I respect you, Angelo. You’ve been more of a brother to me than my own brothers ever have. And fuck, Rafe is my best friend. But the fact of the matter is, Big Al is my father.” His fists clench at his side, his eyes flashing dark. “Don’t go after his girl. Don’t make me choose.”

“Okay, tell me a sin, Angelo.” “I killed my father.”

Before she can reply, I grab her by the wrist, pull her back to the hood of my car and slam her face-down on the bonnet. With an animalistic growl brewing inside my rib cage, I pin her legs against the bumper with my thighs and hook my thumbs into her waistband.

“Open the glove box. There’s something in there for you.” Frowning, I do. Then my smile stretches into a wide grin.

“Good thing all my clothes are dry-clean only.” He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the door frame. “Of course they are, princess,” he grunts as he strides back down the hall.

“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.”

“Can you two love birds hurry up?” Tor’s voice booms up the stairs and into the cockpit. “I’ve got other shit to do today other than be my father’s lackey.”

Something catches the corner of my eye. It’s pink and lacy, slung over the center stick. It takes me a few seconds to realize what it is. Underneath, there’s a note scribbled on the flight log in loopy, girly handwriting. To add to your collection.

“What offer?” Dante growls. When he doesn’t get an answer, he rises to his feet. “Are you two making deals behind my back?” He turns to Tor. “Did you fucking know about this?” “Don’t ask me, I’m no better than a lackey these days,”

“You’re insane,” he murmurs, gripping my jaw. “If you think I’m anything but crazy about you, Rory, then you’re fucking insane.”

“Are you staying?” “Rory—” “Are you staying?” I repeat, louder this time. “Are you going to stay on the Coast, take over Devil’s Dip and protect me, my father, and the Preserve from your uncle? Or are you going to leave me to fight this on my own?” His silence is deafening. As I look up at him, he runs his tongue over his teeth, breathing heavy. “Use your words, Angelo,” I spit at him, mimicking what he often says to me. “You know I can’t.”

“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.”

“We’ve been over this. It wasn’t Angelo, because we left the house and went into town together.” The shells of my ears burn. Why is Tor covering for him?

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spit. “You could have killed me last night.” And you told me what I didn’t want to hear. “I wanted to kill you last night,” he growls back, without missing a beat. “I want to fucking kill you today, too.” The way his eyes drop to my lips belies the venom of his words. “Get your coat. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

“Say that again.” The ice in his tone forms a lump in my throat. “What?” His fists clench on his lap. “An even bigger beating. What does that mean?” His glare is molten, so hot I cower again the door to get away from him. “What does Alberto do to you, Rory?” He speaks slowly, like he doesn’t trust himself to say the words. “Tell me what he does to you.”

“Get back in the car, Rory.” “Angelo—” “Get back in the fucking car.”

“You’re coming home with me.” My heart stutters. “Home?” “To London. You and your father.”

She lets go of my jacket and brushes her fingers over my clenched fist. Her hand is warm and delicate, and immediately, I open my hand and slide hers inside. Fuck the “no touching” rule.

He drags his eyes over my tailored suit and Italian wool jacket and scowls. “You’re way too old to be my daughter’s boyfriend.” I laugh. Yeah, if you think I’m old, you should see her real fucking boyfriend.

“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.”

“Out of all my sins, you’re my favorite.”