My Sinful Longing (Sinful Men Book 3) Page 9

  “Look at you,” I said, breaking the kiss. “Look at how wet you are.” I pulled my hand out of her panties and brought my fingers to my mouth. My eyes rolled shut as I tasted her. She tasted like sex and lust. I opened my eyes to find her staring at me hungrily, jaw agape.

  The stairwell was dark and echoey, and every sound, every moan bounced on the heavy walls as I stroked her.

  “Take me someplace. Anyplace. Now. Please,” she said, gripping my shoulders as I rubbed her clit, a hard little diamond—swollen, wet, and begging for my touch.

  “Now?”

  “Yes,” she said, but her body said she wanted it here.

  And I didn’t want to deny her.

  I slipped a finger inside her heat, thrilling at the instant reaction it elicited from her. She clasped a hand over her mouth, capturing her own moan. Her knees buckled, and I used my free hand to steady her. Gripping her hip, I moved my mouth to her ear. “Fuck my hand,” I told her.

  She rolled her hips, riding my fingers as I thrust inside her.

  My dick was so hard it was practically staging a mutiny. I ached to sink in and spend the whole night inside her.

  But I wanted her pleasure more. Her release. Her bliss. And I knew how to find it. I knew the way around her body because I’d never wanted anyone with this kind of raging intensity. I crooked my finger, hitting that magic spot that sent her flying. She curled her fingernails into my shoulders, digging in, holding on, as her mouth formed a perfect O. I sealed my lips to hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure as she came hard on my fingers in the stairwell.

  The clock was ticking.

  But I knew this city. Knew all the private spots.

  Knew them from my days of causing trouble.

  I drove her to one on the edge of a park, dark and quiet.

  We scurried into the back seat of my car. I pulled down her jeans to her knees, put her on all fours, and unzipped my pants. I tapped her knees.

  “Spread wider.”

  She obliged, widening her position, as I rolled on a condom.

  She bent her back and lifted her ass, and I smacked it once with my palm. “Couldn’t resist,” I said playfully. “Too tempting.”

  “Don’t resist.”

  “Never,” I said, and then like we were in high school, like we couldn’t wait, like we had a secret, I slid inside her in the back of the car.

  “Oh fuck, Elle,” I said on a groan, as I savored that intense moment when I was first inside the woman I craved. I picked up the pace. “Need to get you home soon, so I’m going to have to pull out all the stops.”

  “Yes, please. Fuck me harder.”

  Lust sizzled down my spine. I loved learning that Elle was rough and carnal in the bedroom. Outside she was strong, serious, focused.

  In bed, she was intense, dirty, and hungry.

  Perfect for me.

  Setting a fevered rhythm, I stroked into her. She moaned with each thrust, panting as I filled her. “You tasted so damn good on my fingers,” I said huskily. “I can’t wait to have you. When I do, I’m going to show you exactly why you came so many times alone at night thinking of me.”

  “I did, Colin. I do,” she said, swiveling her hips as I pumped into her, admitting how much she’d been wanting me too. “I thought about fucking your face all the time.”

  Oh hell. Those words were like a straight shot of lust through my bloodstream. They set me on fire. They flipped switches all over. I groaned deeply.

  Her body answered with an epic shudder, a wild tightening against my dick, which was so damn hard inside her. Her slick walls gripped me as I slammed in and out of her, pulling back so only the tip was in her.

  “You’re close, aren’t you?”

  “So close.”

  I paused momentarily, then whispered in a low, dirty growl in her ear, “Say it. Say it when you come. Say you’re going to come so fucking hard,” I said to her. Her body trembled, and everything in her reaction told me she was there, finding her way to a second coming. “Say it,” I commanded, as I fucked her.

  “I’m going to come so fucking hard,” she said, her voice falling to pieces as she came on me. She cried out in ecstasy as I fucked her furiously, my balls tightening as my own orgasm tore through my body.

  I wanted to collapse onto her, to wrap my arms around her and just exist in this sated, blissful state. Instead, I looped my hands around her sexy waist, holding her close as we collapsed onto the seat. I brushed my lips against her collarbone, and she shivered then flashed me a small smile.

  “What are we doing?”

  The million-dollar question. I hadn’t wanted to push. I didn’t want to define this.

  “What do you want this to be?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. All I know is I don’t want to stop.”

  “I don’t want to stop either,” I said.

  Whether that meant we were a thing or a no-strings thing was anyone’s guess.

  Until she spoke. “But I think I’d like to see you more.”

  I grinned. So wide I could feel it in my heart, especially when we made plans for later in the week.

  21

  Colin

  The face was eerily familiar.

  I nearly stopped in my tracks as I rounded the corner on my way to the game room at the community center a few days later. That guy. Walking toward me. I had noticed him shooting hoops a few times. I’d seen him in a math tutorial a couple of months ago.

  But I’d also seen him in a photo on Brent’s phone.

  My eyes widened as I studied the guy heading in my direction. That was the dude who’d been stalking my twin sister. Brent had taken a picture of him outside Shannon’s home one afternoon more than a month ago.

  What the hell?

  The hair on my neck stood on end. A primal instinct to protect my flesh and blood kicked in. I wanted answers. Wanted to know why the hell a teen at the community center had been parked outside Shan’s house . . . more than once. The guy had dark eyes, dark hair, and ink covering his right arm. He wore jeans. His boots clunked on the linoleum floor.

  I hadn’t yet gotten Brent to resend the image so I could forward it to Elle. Now the guy was here, and I was going to cut out the middleman.

  “Hey,” I said to get his attention.

  The guy stopped short and peered around, like he was making sure who I was talking to. He pointed at himself and mouthed, Me?

  “Yeah. You,” I said, tilting my head. One part of me wanted to demand an answer. But the other part, the rational, logical, adult portion, told me not to jump to conclusions.

  Give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Marcus,” the guy answered, shifting on the balls of his feet.

  I motioned him to the side of the hallway, next to the bulletin board layered with announcements for center activities: a poetry class, the free lunch schedule, basketball leagues.

  Marcus joined me. I scrubbed a hand across my chin, then dived into business, meeting him square in the eyes. “This might sound weird. But I’m pretty sure you were hanging around outside my sister’s house a few times. Shannon Sloan. What’s up with that?”

  He answered immediately. “It’s not weird.” Marcus pulled up his right shirtsleeve. I flinched, but quickly relaxed when I saw the ink. It matched Rex’s arm. Protector. “I do safety patrols with the Protectors,” Marcus added. “If you saw me somewhere, that was probably why. We go to a lot of neighborhoods.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  Marcus nodded. “Yup. We do. And I do.”

  A smile broke out across my face. Color me impressed. “Rex was telling me about the Protectors. Like the Guardian Angels.”

  “That’s where we got our inspiration from. Rex and I do patrols together sometimes. By the way, it’s nice to meet you officially.” He extended a hand. Something that looked like happiness flashed in Marcus’s eyes as we shook. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “Sorry, I should have
given you my name. Colin Sloan. I volunteer here. Good to meet you too. Truth be told, I was worried you were part of the Royal Sinners. We thought you might be when I saw you outside Shan’s house. That you were targeting my sister for something.”

  Marcus held up both his hands, a sign he had nothing to hide. “No. God no. I want nothing to do with them. I was just checking things out. We’ve been scoping out a bunch of neighborhoods, even nicer ones. Just to make sure.”

  “Make sure of what?”

  “That the streets are safe. No matter what.” Marcus tapped his arm. “Always.”

  “That’s awesome. Keep it up, man,” I said. I couldn’t wait to tell Shannon and Brent that there was nothing to fear, and that this kid was doing a good thing for the community. I knocked fists with the young man. I started to walk down the hall, when Marcus called out to me.

  “Hey.”

  I turned around. Marcus swallowed then cleared his throat, as if he was about to say something difficult. He was quiet, and I waited, giving him time. I didn’t want to pressure him.

  “I sat in on one of your math sessions a few months ago. When I first checked out the center,” he said, and that wasn’t what I expected him to say.

  But I was glad to hear it.

  “That’s good. What did you think?”

  Marcus nodded several times and ran a hand over his chin, a gesture that I often did. Well, it wasn’t unique to me. Lots of people did that. Still, I felt as if I was looking in a mirror for a second, seeing my younger self reflected back at me. “Yeah. Learned some stuff about P and L statements. I’m going to college in the fall.”

  “Good for you. No better decision in the world than to go to college. I’m glad. Let me know if you need any more help. Math is kind of my forte. I’d be happy to work with you if you need anything.”

  Marcus smiled briefly. “I will. Thanks. That means a lot to me,” he said, and his voice sounded like the very definition of the word hopeful. Odd, considering we were talking about math. For a moment, Marcus seemed like he was about to say something more—he had that look again, like he was on the cusp of something, almost like he’d been practicing something he wanted to say. But then he cut himself off. “I gotta run.”

  “Take it easy,” I said, and turned the other way.

  I had an appointment with Rex to work on advanced algebra, thanks to the bet I’d won on the court the other day. As I headed to the homework room, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. My heart beat faster in the hope that it would be Elle, confirming a time for tomorrow evening. Then I nearly smacked myself for being so damn eager to see her.

  Take it easy. Play it cool.

  But fuck it. I’d been waiting a year, and we were becoming something.

  Only her name wasn’t the one on my screen.

  It was my brother Michael.

  Michael: Detective wants to meet again tonight re: some new info. Ryan has some details. He’s going to call you a little later when he’s in a better cell zone. I told the detective he could come to your place, and I’m going to be there to talk to him with you.

  I heaved a sigh.

  Typical Michael. Even though the detective liked to meet with us alone to discuss the reopened investigation, Michael would have his way. I suspected this was his means of making up for something that had never been his fault. He’d blamed himself for the trouble I’d gotten into in high school, especially because of the company I had kept as a young teen.

  Now, he was likely trying to protect me, where he felt he hadn’t before.

  He was wrong. But he was also stubborn.

  I fired off a return text.

  Colin: Working with the kids now. Should be done in an hour or so and hope to catch Ryan then. Did he give you the details?

  As I walked into the game room, a reply arrived.

  Michael: The call kept breaking up. Something about that pattern. Sounds like it’s a hell of a lot more than a few names and addresses.

  The pattern again. That damn pattern Ryan had told me about. When I’d first learned whose names were in it, TJ and Kenny Nelson, I couldn’t believe that I’d known both men many years ago. Now they somehow held clues to my father’s murder.

  22

  Elle

  A construction crew jackhammered outside my closed window, smashing the broken sections of the basketball courts in preparation for smoothing them over with a fresh concrete surface. A pair of new security guards patrolled the block, courtesy of Colin. The sight of them brought a smile to my face—the man had moved quickly to make sure the center was safe during this time of transition.

  As I surveyed the signs of change, I chatted on the phone with some of the center’s biggest donors, making my round of calls to thank them for their contributions.

  I dialed another number and spoke briefly with Charlie, a benefactor in San Francisco who’d attended the Beethoven concert event more than a week ago. “We couldn’t have done it without you. We’re already starting the work, and I’m thrilled to say it’s going well so far,” I said as I gazed out the window. “I’m watching them rebuilding the basketball courts right now. And the boys spend a lot of time there, so your contribution is being put to good use immediately.”

  “It is a pleasure and an honor to help such a worthy cause.”

  “If you’re in Vegas again, I do hope you’ll stop by the center to see our work.”

  “I come to Vegas often. Once a week now, it seems, and I will take you up on that. And, please, you can count on me to be a regular contributor. Giving to the center allows me to right some wrongs from my past.”

  “It does?” I asked, curious as to what he meant.

  He sighed with a note of regret, but his voice seemed hopeful too as he answered me. “I made some mistakes when I was younger. I held on to a debt longer than I should have. This is my amends.”

  “I’m a big fan of making changes,” I said, smiling as we talked about redemption and all its possibilities. Sam had never truly embraced the concept of making amends, though I desperately wished he had. Even during his rehab stints, he’d never tried to apologize for his past sins and omissions. His sober behavior was remarkably similar to his behavior when he’d been high—yet another reason I’d never trusted his recovery. It had never stuck, and he’d never truly changed.

  Colin was the opposite.

  He gave of his time. He opened his heart. He’d learned from the past. What would it be like if I were to truly give in? To let go of all my rules? To break my promises to my son?

  Because I’d promised it’d be only him and me.

  I’d promised I wouldn’t get involved with someone else while he lived with me.

  And I had to protect him first.

  After the call ended, someone rapped on my door, so I swept aside my musings about Colin and making amends. I rose and opened it, delighted to see Marcus on the other side. But my smile fell quickly—his face was white as snow.

  “I need to talk to you. Badly.” His voice shook.

  Worry coursed through me, a prickly flurry of nerves as I shut the door. “Of course, come in. What’s going on?”

  He sank onto my couch and dropped his head in his hands, running his fingers roughly through his hair. My heart lurched toward him.

  “I need to talk. About some heavy shit. And you can’t tell anyone,” he said, raising his face.

  “Are you going to tell me something I’d need to tell someone else?” I looked him in the eye, making it clear that I’d keep his confidences if they didn’t cross certain lines. “Because if you tell me you’re going to hurt yourself or someone else, there’s no confidentiality.”

  “No. God, no,” he said with a brief laugh, but it was a joyless sound. “I just need this to be between us.”

  While I wasn’t technically Marcus’s social worker, I’d been trained as one. And as the center director, I strove to abide by proper guidelines. That meant I’d keep whatever we discussed between the two of us.

  “My
family, who I’ve been trying to meet? My brothers? My sister?” he said, as if he needed to remind me.

  “Yes.”

  He sighed deeply. “You know one of them.”

  I cocked my head, trying to figure out who on earth it could be. “I do?”

  He nodded and gulped. “You do. He’s a volunteer here, and I knew that when I first came here to play hoops. He’s the reason I started coming around the center. To see what my family was like. To get a sense of them before I met them.”

  The world froze. Everything and everyone became a statue as I swayed, absorbing his news.

  “Colin Sloan is one of my brothers.”

  I clasped a hand to my mouth. Then it was my turn to sink down, as I fell into my chair and tried to rearrange my shock so I could lend my support to Marcus.

  “My dad never wanted me to meet them,” Marcus said. “He always told me I was safer staying away from them. So I respected his wishes while I lived under his roof. I’m worried he’s going to be pissed when he finds out, but I don’t care. I have to do this. I need to go back and try again. Especially since I just talked to Colin in the hall.”

  “Does he know?” I asked, my voice papery.

  Marcus shook his head. “No. Not yet. But he seems like a good guy, and I want to do this right.” He talked more about his parents and the twisted tale of how his dad met his mom, and how his dad felt about her. When he was done, he took the biggest inhalation in the world and relaxed into the couch, spreading his arms across the back of it. “You’re the only person I’ve told about this. God, it feels good to finally say their names. To finally be able to talk to someone and share all the details.”

  He was unburdened, buoyed with relief. Meanwhile, I’d taken on the weight of one of the biggest secrets I could ever imagine keeping from someone I cared for.