Page 9 of Secret Sin

He frowned, his conviction wavering. “I’ll think about it,” he finally grumbled and pulled me against his chest. “I’m not ready for this, Pip. I’m gonna try, but it’s a dangerous world out there. Setting you free without a man around to protect you goes against every fiber of my being.”

“I know, Daddy. That’s why I haven’t pushed before. And I’m sorry to make you worry, but this means the world to me. I want to find my place out there, and I don’t believe I have to have a husband to do that.”

He pulled back and peered down his nose at me with mock indignation. “You say that like finding a husband is a bad thing.”

I chuckled and poked him in the ribs. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s also not theonlything.”

He studied me skeptically. “I suppose you’re not entirely wrong.”

I flashed him a brilliant grin, and he shook his head.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, moving on to safer waters. “You missed dinner, but I think there are leftovers in the fridge.” At his mention of food, I suddenly realized that I hadn’t eaten and was positively ravenous.

“Leftovers sound perfect. Thanks, Dad.” I kissed his cheek, smiled warmly, and went in search of food with a renewed energy in my step.

* * *

An hour later,my stomach was no longer making angry noises, and I’d sprawled on my bed in my comfiest set of sweats.

What. A. Day.

I’d learned that my uncle had killed his wife and kept my cousin under lock and key, lost my virginity, found a place to live, and admitted to my father that I wanted to move out. Talk about getting the ball rolling.

All in all, the day’s successes easily outweighed the setbacks. I wasn’t sure how to deal with Bishop, but there would be time to figure that out. I had to sort my feelings on the matter first. He wanted more from me, but that wasn’t a part of my plan.

Would more necessarily be so bad?

Knowing how Mafia men worked, it just might be. Would he want to keep me under his thumb like my father tended to do? Dad was motivated by love, but I didn’t want to be coddled anymore, no matter the reason. I wanted to make my own decisions and go where my heart led me. How was I supposed to do that with a man hovering at my side?

And on top of it all, Bishop was Irish. What did I even know about the Irish? Not much. I’d never given them much thought because the possibility of my involvement with them had been infinitesimal. Would my father flip out if he knew? Things weren’t the same as when my grandparents were young, but that didn’t mean my Mafia family would look kindly on me dating a member of a rival organization. At least with Noemi’s marriage, we were now somewhat allied. In theory.

The lightness that had settled in my chest after talking to my dad thickened into a heavy mass. Normally, I found optimism second nature, but uncertainty was a shadow blocking my sunshine. It was hard to focus on the positives when my mind kept dwelling on questions surrounding Bishop.

As if summoned by my thoughts, a text from him appeared on my phone.

Bishop: I can still smell you on my sheets.

My grin couldn’t get any bigger. I wasn’t supposed to want his attention, but reminders of his dirty words thrummed in my veins and heated my blood. The memory of how he made me feel sprouted into a craving for more, insistent enough that I found myself typing a reply.

Me: I can still feel your hands on me.

I hit send, biting hard on my lower lip and praying my father didn’t monitor my messages. I supposed if he did, he was in for a shock.

Bishop: You alone in your bedroom?

My heart did a full three sixty in my chest.

Me: Yes. Are you?

I had a feeling I knew where this was headed, and I also knew I shouldn’t encourage him, but I’d never sexted before. If I wanted to try all the things, it would be counterproductive to pass up the opportunity, right?

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the phone rang.

“Hello?” I was too on edge to answer with anything sultry or sophisticated.

“Get on the bed.” The commanding tone of his deep voice had my body moving without hesitation.

I clambered onto the bed and reclined on pillows propped against the headboard. Every nerve ending in my body sang out a chorus of anticipation.

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