Page 32 of Unforgivable Sins

Michael and John are two more of my Boys that have been with me for years. Not as long as Tink, Slightly, or Cubby, but they’re on the short list of people I trust to do their jobs and do them well. I know they’re loyal to me and have yet to catch them in anything nefarious. They basically run Salvation when I’m not here, which is more often than not lately.

I take my drink to the booth and settle in. Even here, my mind is only on one person. I keep staring at the door as if she’ll miraculously walk in. Maybe after her night with me she’s had a change of heart. Maybe she’ll want the protection and good energy Salvation emanates. Maybe I’m just fucking grasping at straws.

It doesn’t take long for the bar to fill up. All the patrons here are shining bright and squeaky clean, dressed to the nines, and the air is filled with light-hearted cheer and laughter.

What a fucking bore.

I leave my secluded booth and make my way toward a group of five women huddled together by the bar. Two of them see me approaching and quickly whisper to the others. All eyes dart my way, giggles and nervous energy surrounds me as I stop in front of them.

It's honestly rather annoying and not at all what I’m attracted to, obviously, but I know how to be sweet and charming just as well as I know how to be cold and dangerous.

I plaster a fake, but disarming smile on my face. “Ladies, you all are looking spectacular this evening. I’m extremely honored that you chose to walk into my bar tonight.” I place a hand on my chest, over my heart, and give a slight bow in their direction. “Are we celebrating anything special?”

More giggles assault my ears but instead of grinding my teeth I smile wider. If anyone was really paying attention, they’d notice that the fake innocence and joy never reaches my eyes. But no one really cares. They see what they want to see. People, no matter how good they’re pretending to be, or how good they genuinely think they are, they’re all selfish in the end, only truly caring about themselves.

“Actually, it’s my birthday,” one of the women in the group announces with a shy smile.

“Well then, I believe a celebration round on the house is in order. Michael,” I yell, getting the bartender’s attention. “A round of drinks for these lovely ladies and something special for the birthday girl. Shall we?” I usher them to the bar.

A round of free alcohol and the information that I not only own this bar but the bar across the street has them eating out of the palm of my hand. Of course, I’m not ignorant in how I look either. I know that I’m attractive and women are often eager to throw themselves at my mercy, a clear mistake they don’t realize until it’s too late. If only they had paid attention and saw the truth flashing in my eyes instead of what they chose to see.

Tsk, Tsk.

Needless to say, thirty minutes later, I’m escorting five ladies into Sinful Delights and they’re alleagerto be mischievous. Really, sometimes it’s too easy to appeal to, and manipulate, the base instincts in others. Especially sex. Sexual desire is primitive and often the base need that’s hardest for someone to ignore and control.

As soon as I step one foot into Sinful Delights, I feel her. Relief floods through me as my eyes immediately find her sitting inmybooth,with my brother. What the fuck is Hook doing here? He only comes to land once every six months. He was just fucking here a week ago.

I immediately forget about the five women surrounding me as I stalk up the ramp that leads to my booth. As I approach, Wendee’s head tips back and a loud, joyful laugh erupts from her throat. The sound reaches out like a hand that grips my fucking heart and squeezes tightly. I’ve never heard anything more beautiful in my entire fucking life. It’s even more beautiful than her cries of pain and the sound bounces around inside of me like a ping pong ball, hitting my heart, my stomach and my dick, making it twitch in response.

I stop in front of the table. Hook has Wendee’s hand in his and the rage that rises up inside of me at the sight of him touching her, is instantaneous, powerful, and dangerous.

“What the fuck is this?” My voice is low and deep, on the verge of fucking murder. Which, apparently, I’m good at when it comes to her.

Wendee’s eyes flick up to mine. The sparkle of happiness dances in her eyes, but they immediately darken as they look at me and I don’t know if I like the heat of desire I see more or if I’m disappointed that the happiness has seeped away. I suddenly wantbothof those looks directed at ME, not my fucking brother.

“Brother,” Hook’s voice is full of laughter, his eyes also sparkling, but with his normal flirting and playfulness. I know exactly what he’s doing with Wendee and I’m close to wrapping my hands around his neck and fucking choking that look out of his eyes. “So nice of you to join us. I was just getting to know, Dee, here.”

Dee. He speaks as if he’s known her longer than I have.

“He was reading my palm.” She swallows nervously, as she looks between me and my brother. Her eyes land on him again and some of the joy comes back into her eyes as she smiles then laughs lightly. “It was absolutely ridiculous.”

“What?” Hook exclaims in feigned offense. “I swear, my palm reading abilities are far superior than any others. You just wait and see, it’s all going to come true,” he winks.

“Out, now,” I command, my eyes still on Wendee.

She glances down at the table like a scolded child, not wanting to make eye contact with me or my brother now, as she scoots out of the booth.

“Peter, come on man, we were just having some innocent fun,” Hook tries to explain.

As she steps out of the booth, I notice she’s wearing a black romper with blue flowers on it and matching blue heels, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s wearing black or blue matching underwear and what they look like. Her hair is in loose ripples framing her face and down her back, almost all the way to her beautiful ass. The ass I know must be bruised and sore. The memory of her falling to her knees with my belt marks on her skin makes my cock twitch again. Her lips are painted with her usual devilish red and I want to take my thumb and smear it across her face. I want to see her natural lips. I want to taste her without the fucking lipstick ruining her flavor.

I take a seat at the end of the booth, keeping my legs out and not slipping them under the table. Before Wendee can take another step away, I grab her wrist and pull her to me, sitting her down on my lap so she’s sitting sideways, her legs between mine. I don’t miss the wince as I sit her butt down on my lap. I love it and hate it all at the same time. I wrap an arm protectively around her waist as my other hand comes to rest on the top of her bare thigh. I can’t help but dig my fingers into her soft skin possessively.

She gasps in surprise, and I have to concentrate on keeping my own shock off of my face. This is unheard of for me. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing or what I expect to happen now. I’m acting on total impulse and I’ve never felt the need to be so possessive before. I’ve never wanted to claim someone so openly or desperately. No, I’ve never wanted to claim someoneever. I’ve never wanted someone this close to me.

Hook’s eyebrows shoot up, his own shock on full display. “Well, this is a new development.”

“You don’t ever visit twice in one week, or even in a month. What are you doing here?”

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