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“It shouldn’t,” he replies. “I had just gotten off the phone with him when Emeric called. Sterling is convinced that Alastair will want to talk now that there’s a second body. He might gloat, or goad, or just joke about what’s happened. Sterling claims the possibilities are endless.”
My hand tightens beneath his. “He… Alastair’s unpredictable.”
“Yes.” He leans over, kissing the top of my head. “We’ll have to talk to him, darling. It’s inevitable. If Sterling feels cornered and has no other options he will send people out to question us in Colorado if we go back. It’ll destroy the business.Yourbusiness. If we risk that there was no point in coming out here.”
I tense beside him. The club was my dream, and I’m Vinny’s dream. He’ll do what he has to by supporting me, but he won’t let someone push me too far ever again. If reporters catch wind of our club’s name, it could cause issues in Colorado.
If there’s too much attention in Colorado through speculation, the club might become a casualty. We pride ourselves on privacy and discretion at Sins and Secrets. People’s identities could be linked to their kinky personas, images from the parking lot could surface of patrons coming in and out and critical details about our clientele could fall into the wrong hands and destroy more lives than just ours.
Serenity and Emeric wouldn’t sell people’s information to shady reporters, but that doesn’t mean a club member might not. People have opinions about us disappearing, and curiosity can be maddening when someone dangles answers and cash under a person’s nose. We don’t need to risk anything else.
We’re not here to have some sort of final debate with Alastair. We’re here to keep our business out of the news, and our friends' privacy intact. Whatever happens with Alastair is extra, and I’d prefer to spend as little time dealing with him as possible.
“Do we have to go anywhere soon?” I ask after a lengthy pause, glaring at the floor. The idea of getting up and leaving Emeric’s house right now feels like entirely too much to handle. The whole place is decorated in things that remind me of him and it has a cozy atmosphere. I can pretend like we aren’t in Citrus Grove here, but the moment we leave and go back outside the illusion is over.
“Not for a while,” Vinny says slowly. “Sterling offered to come here-”
“No,” I interrupt, pulling myself away from him. “I have no interest in seeing him, especially here.”
“Okay, darling,” Vinny says smoothly, reaching up to grip my chin. “Your wish is my command.”
The corner of my mouth tips up into a grin at that. Vinny is gruff most of the time, and almost a touch too protective when he’s seriously worried about me, but when we’re alone he knows how to make my body sing.
This is not what I need to be doing right now. I need to be focused on getting myself together for whatever the rest of the day could bring. A girldiedby the hand of an imposter, in a case that, like it or not, revolves around me. The guilt is monumental when I focus on it too much, like the weight of being at fault could crush me from the inside.
Vinny watches me silently. He’s attuned to me, but I’m not sure if he can pick apart my emotions as easily as he usually can right now. I’m all over the place, tripping over how I feel and overthinking things that typically don’t bother me.
And the call from Uncle Wayne? I didn’t go off like I normally would, and he left me with more to think about than I want to.
The death of some sweet nurse? At home I’d feel bad for a moment, possibly even watch the report, but I wouldn’t feel the impending guilt that this all somehow comes back to me. Meaning it’s all my fault.
Alastair… in Colorado, he doesn’t exist. We don’t let him exist. But this isn’t home, and here in Florida he’s everywhere I look.
Hot lips press to my temple, and all at once my racing thoughts screech to a halt. “You’re too tense, darling. Let me work it out of you.”
My heart flutters even as heat pools low in my body, my pussy already getting wet from his mere words. Vinny has a talent for getting me to come on command and without restraint.
It’s part of the perks of being married to him. He might look like an asshole but he treats me like a goddess.
His lips travel lower, down to the uneven neckline of the shirt I’m wearing. It’s his, not mine, because there’s a level of comfort from sleeping in his clothes. He tugs it further to the side, his tongue tracing along the ridge of one of the scars, and I gasp.
No one touches my scars. No one turns their ugliness into beauty. No one except Vinny.
My fingers reach for his waistband as his hand slides beneath my shirt, finding and tweaking my nipple as he nips at my neck. I sink into the feeling, letting him manipulate me how he wants, and he’ll take everything we both need soon enough.
I want passion. I want the damn headboard in this room to bounce so hard off the wall that it leaves a crack we have to fix. I want my husband buried so deep inside me I can’t remember a time when we weren’t connected.
As though reading my mind, he stops with the sweet and gentle shit and grips my hip, flipping me over harshly so my legs slip off the bed and my chest lands on the mattress. I grunt, flipping my head around to stare at him through a web of blonde hair.
The hand that smacks my ass is a welcome sting, and my eyes flutter closed to focus on that instead of anything that’s happening around us.
He moves off the bed, sliding in behind me to massage my bare ass. If I don’t wear underwear outside because he likes it, I typically don’t sleep in it either. I’m still trying to catch my breath as he flips up the shirt and parts my ass cheeks with each hand, admiring me.
His finger graze the scars, and for a moment it reminds me that Alastair cut there too. It all had to be vertical lines, but there’s never been a reason why. It’s a unique signature, one that’s left me scarred beyond repair.
Another strike to my other cheek, this one harder and sharper, forces me back to the present. “You’re in your head too much, Trauma. Do I need to remind you of your worth?”
Trauma.He’s not going to call me darling right now, and I like hearing the unique nickname on his lips. He’s the only one to ever call me something like that.