Page 2 of SINS & Temptation

As if any part of her could ever be off-limits. As if I can’t still taste her on my tongue.

“I own you, Bella.”

“For a week,” sweet Kennedy corrects. “During which time I get to see my sister. Every day,” she demands, her fire and petulance damn near combustible.

She glares at me, the tension thick and electric. With any other woman, she’d be on her knees by now, wrapping that smart mouth around my dick.

I consider commanding her to do just that, then check my watch. Shit. I need hours with Kennedy, not minutes. Ruining her for life takes time. I can’t fuck her senseless with a stopwatch.

And trust me, I will be fucking her senseless. Every. Goddamned. Time.

Plus, I see a man outside the plane I prefer not to keep waiting. “Get dressed.”

“Why Bother?” she asks, fussing with her belt. “If you’re just going to tear them off me, then half-naked would save time and give me more precious moments with my sister.”

I let her and her luscious curves fuss with the seatbelt for only a minute before I undo it for her. I tip her chin up to meet my gaze. “Don’t tempt me, Bella. Unless you want me to take my time fucking you while a dozen security guards listen as you scream my name, I suggest you get dressed.”

She rushes off, and I don’t bother watching her. One glance, and I’d be lost in her all over again, impulse and instinct ready to explode.

And right now, there are bigger battles to fight. Like the text I’m currently staring at.

Gio

Guess who lands later today?

Giovanni is more than a Capo. He’s my eyes and ears in Italy. No one knows what’s going on more than he does.

Me

I don’t pay to guess.

Just tell me.

Gio

The biggest cocksucker you know.

Even without hearing Giovanni speak, his thick Italian accent usually lifts my spirits when he refers to my uncle as a cocksucker.

Right now, it’s just pissing me off.

Chapter Two

KENNEDY

“Bentornato!” an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a sweater vest greets us enthusiastically as we step off the plane.

For a moment, I’m blinded by the sun—a casualty of chasing it around the globe, I guess. I fumble for my sunglasses, taking in the stunning landscape with awe.

Thankfully, the flight attendant handed me a pair earlier—nice and dark with “please, no paparazzi” vibes. She mentioned it would be mid-morning here, but she didn’t mention just how gorgeous it is.

Considering it was around the same time she calmed me down with my third glass of champagne, maybe she did and I’m too drunk to remember. And since she helped me into this gorgeous pale blue dress that hugs my curves perfectly and has a gazillion buttons down the back, I’m pretty sure she’s become my new best friend.

What was her name again?

I sway a little, still feeling the champagne, and gaze out at the Italian coastline in the distance. The azure waters and rugged cliffs, bathed in golden sunlight, are absolutely breathtaking.

Another wobbly step off the stairs, and I crash into Mt. Enzo, his rock-hard body steadying me. He tries to tuck me under his arm like I’m some kind of newspaper. I push him off. “I don’t need your help.”

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