Page 69 of Sin With Me

This is what I didn’t want. A crowd. A show. People. I hate it.

I stomp through the massive open space that makes up the majority of Chase and I’s home. It’s a converted industrial warehouse with floor to ceiling windows that span the brick walls.

The living room, kitchen, dining area and foyer are all one big open space. A hall off the kitchen leads to Chase’s big ass room and bathroom. Off the living room, in a mirrored layout, another hall leads to my identical room. There are two other rooms, one in each hall. Chase has claimed one for his office. The other is a room reserved for Oli on the rare occasion she visits.

The colors and theme of our place gives a dark, moody aesthetic, despite the huge windows. But Chase brightened it up by covering it with an obscene amount of house plants. Something about better air quality or some shit.

Either way, it’s a nice place and one I could never dream of affording on my own. If not for Chase’s insane influencer income, we’d both still be in the piece of shit apartment we rented when we first moved to Mammoth to attend the university.

Fuck, that feels like yesterday, yet somehow, forever ago.

The darkly stained concrete floor is silent beneath my booted feet as I shove through the drunken crowd. Some asshole claps me on the shoulder, and it takes every bit of strength I have in my body not to light him on fire. My fingers itch to slide my lighter from my pocket, but I ignore the craving.

For now.

“You look all lighty right now, bro,” Chase chuckles, throwing me a bottle of water. “Here. You need this.”

Sighing, I drop down onto the couch between him and Naomi, Deliverance’s receptionist. The girl in question turns to me with an exaggerated gag.

“That was utterly disgusting, Roman.”

“I’ve fucked worse,” I shrug.

“Oh, God,” Chase groans. “Remember Beth?” I snort as I take a sip of water. Yeah, that bitch was annoying. And gross. Pretty sure she was fucking half the guys she worked with, too.

“Or Annalise?” Naomi says.

“Hey, she wasn’t that bad,” I counter. “She had some issues—”

“She came at you with a fucking knife!” Naomi shouts, her dark eyes bugging out.

“That was part of her appeal,” I say, shrugging again, my lips curling. “Crazy chicks are amazing in bed.” Chase chuckles and knocks his knuckles against mine.

“Amen to that.”

Naomi eyes me speculatively. “What?” I grunt.

“Why do you have to be so fucking aggressive?” she murmurs, her brows pinched as she bites her thick lower lip. I cock a brow in question. “You fucked her like you were trying to kill the poor thing.”

Chase barks a laugh and slaps me on the shoulder. “Ro doesn’t know any other way to fuck. There’s a reason they call him the Pussy Annihilator.”

My face scrunches up in distaste at the nickname, but I don’t disagree.

It’s not like I can tell them that every time I fuck a chick, I’m imagining my younger stepsister and the way I want to fuck the betrayal right out of her. That I pretend every brutal, punishing thrust is teaching the lying bitch a lesson.

Instead, I just smirk at my friend, letting her see the violence simmering just below the surface.

“You two are pigs,” Naomi scoffs.

“Come on,” Chase says, leaning forward to look at her past me. “Like you’ve only dated winners.” The conversation goes on, both of them oblivious to the chasm of depravity churning in my gut.

“I—” she starts, her head shaking.

“Don’t even try to defend yourself,” I say, lifting my brows. “Noah?”

“Okay, that was one guy,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Mateo?” Chase reminds her, and she groans.

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