Syndicate of Sins (Toxic Paradise, #2)

by Marie Maravilla

The buzz of conversation bled into the sensual sounds of The Weeknd’s “House of balloons/Glass Table Girls.” A wave of déjà vu rolled over me

“I owe you nothing. Not my name. Not my attention. And sure as fuck not my politeness,” I bit out. Men like him preyed on women who’d been told “don’t be a bitch.” That term had been used to shrink women for so long that some still believed the lie. Be a bitch. Eat the ones who want to prey on you.

If I want to walk around with my tits and ass out, I can.” She crossed her arms against her chest in indignation. She was fucking intimidating; I’d give her that. But she was also hot as fuck while scolding me. Honestly, I liked the idea of her pushing me around.

“Too bad we’ve got places to be. So put the helmet on and plaster that pussy to the back of my ass cheeks.”

Horn dogs. He could’ve just said to hop on his bike 😭😂

Gray sweatpants and dickprints were to women what tits were to men.

I’d thought love was bullshit, but this woman had all three of us by the fuckin’ balls, and the feelings swirling in my heart no longer felt like lust alone.

love you, Scar. I love you with every fiber of my being and every beat of my heart. Death won’t take away how I feel for you. Take care of them,” he rasped, the words barely above a whisper, as if it hurt to speak.