Sinners Anonymous : Chapter 19

THE IMAGE OF MY uncle’s fiancee naked and fingering herself last night is burned so deep into my retinas that I fucking see it every time I close my eyes.

The ghost of her shallow breathing still rings in my ears. The damp thwack as her hand slapped her swollen pussy haunts me. And when her face flushed and her whole body shook as she came, I knew I had to get the fuck out of there before I did something I couldn’t take back.

Christ himself doesn’t have as much restraint as me.

The moment I walked out of Tor’s office I left the club. Not just because I had a hard-on that wasn’t going away anytime soon, but because I knew the night had peaked. I couldn’t go back to seeing Aurora wriggle around in that obscenely tight dress now that I knew what shade of pink her pussy was. And besides, I was in no mood to deal with Dante, who, for some reason, was glaring at me from the other side of the VIP booth like I fucked his prom date all over again.

Today, as the wrought iron gates open, my cock twitches in anticipation. I know I’m playing a dangerous game, but I’m past the point of caring. I just want to see her, even if just fully clothed. Even if it’s just to take pleasure in how she’ll squirm with embarrassment after baring her all to me last night.

Rolling up to the entrance, I can immediately feel the buzz of activity surrounding the mansion. Servers come and go out of the front door, loading boxes into trunks and talking animatedly into cell phones.

There’s more going on inside the foyer, too. There are women with earpieces and Greta’s holding a clipboard, barking at a gaggle of young maids. What the fuck is going on?

Something catches my eye at the top of the stairs, and when I look up, I see Aurora. She spots me too and freezes, her foot hovering in the air, ready to descend to the next step. A woman is in her ear, but I can tell by the flush creeping out from underneath her silk robe that she’s not listening.

I bite back my smirk and cock my head. “You’re not dressed.”

“And you’re not meant to be here,” she whispers back. Eyes darting toward Alberto’s closed office door, she scurries down the steps and comes to a stop in front of me. She glances up and recoils, like she forgot how tall I was compared to her. Or maybe she remembers last night as vividly as I do.

“You don’t want to see your father today?”

“I can’t.” She shifts her attention to her bare feet. Of course her toes are painted pink too. “It’s…my engagement party tonight.”

My stomach flips. I’m surprised at how quickly her comment digs under my skin, carving a bitter, angry path around my body. I lock my jaw in an attempt to keep my expression neutral. “Cool, but that’s tonight.”

She glances around at the sea of people falling over themselves to get shit done. “There’s a lot to be done.”

“That’s why you have servants.”

“But—”

My hand around her jaw cuts her off. Her eyes widen, cutting back to Alberto’s office. “What happened to no touching?” she breathes.

I let out a dry chuckle and reluctantly drop my hand to my side, dragging my thumb down her soft cheek as I go.

“Right,” I say dryly. “I can look but I can’t touch.” Christ, I was so hard for her last that I’d have made up any excuse just to see what she had going on under that slutty dress. “Do you want to go and see your father or not?”

“I can’t—”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Again, she glances over at Alberto’s office and the pulse in my temple ticks. Fuck, I hate how much power he has over her.

“I’m not allowed today.”

Without another word, I turn on my heel and burst into Alberto’s office without knocking.

His expression clouds with rage, until he looks up from his files and realizes it’s me. Then he shifts in his leather armchair and cocks his head. “Ah, hi, kid. You’re early. Party isn’t until tonight, and we’re having it over in the Visconti Grand.” His wrinkly lips form a tight smile. “You didn’t need to come all the way over here, you just had to take the elevator down to the ballroom.”

I don’t engage in his light-hearted small talk. Instead, I kick the door shut with my heel and stroll over to his desk. It’s not lost on me that he recoils. “I need Aurora today.”

“It’s our engagement party—”

“I’ve been thinking about your offer on the Devil’s Preserve. Perhaps you’re right. It’s so much wasted space, maybe we should do something about it.”

His eyes light up, then a shit-eating smirk crosses his face. “Finally. Fuck, how many times have we spoken about it this week alone?”

A fuck ton. Every time Alberto gets me behind a locked door, he asks about the damn Preserve.

“A lot,” I say sourly. “I’d like to scope it out before we discuss it further. Aurora knows the forest like the back of her hand, so I’d like to take her out there with me.”

“Excellent idea. But uh…” His eyes dart toward the door and he lowers his voice a few decibels. “You should know that she thinks the Devil’s Preserve is my territory.” Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he adds, “I know, I know. I’m a naughty boy. Gotta do what you gotta do, am I right? So, uh. If you could just not mention that it’s yours, I’d appreciate it.”

White heat licks the lining of my stomach. I run my tongue over my teeth and give a curt nod, before turning on my heel.

“Angelo?” I still. “You and me, we’d do amazing things together on this coast, kid.”

Shut up, shit-face. I fling open the door and find Aurora directly on the other side of it. She yelps one of her stupid bird puns and jumps back.

“Well?” she whispers, eyes adorably big.

“Get dressed. I’ll meet you in the car.”

Less than ten minutes later, she slides into the passenger seat of my Aston Martin in a pair of gray leggings and an oversized hoodie. Fuck. I don’t think I’ve met a girl who looks as good in sweats as they do in leather. Her hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders, and she must have just washed it, because the smell of her cherry shampoo fills the whole car and makes my damn dick ache.

I peel out of the driveway, trying to concentrate on keeping the car on the road, which is near impossible. All I can think about is the shape of her tits under that hoodie, and the small strip of golden hair on her pussy mound.

I tug at my collar. Drum my fingers against the steering wheel.

“Hungover?”

Aurora tenses. “No.” Her gaze brushes my cheek, then her voice lowers. “I wasn’t even that drunk.”

“Right.”

She coughs. Fidgets. Then she pulls out a pack of Mike & Ikes from her purse and shoves a whole handful into her mouth, before offering me the carton. I sneer down my nose at her and shake my head.

“Suit yourself,” she mutters. “So, uh. Where were you on Wednesday?”

“Why? Did you miss me?”

“Yes.” Her answer comes quick and thick. It’s followed by the most adorable little laugh.

Coming to a halt to meet the gate, I drop my head against the backrest and close my eyes.

“Don’t test me today, Aurora. I’ve spent nine years resisting temptation. You’re making it very hard for me to get to a decade.” The moment I dare to look up at her, I immediately wish I hadn’t. She’s gazing up at me under those thick lashes, breathing heavily through her plump, parted lips. I harden my glare. “I mean it.”

She shakes out another handful of candy and stares down at them. “Last night was bad…real bad.” She catches her bottom lip with her front teeth. “We shouldn’t have done…that.”

“We? I didn’t do anything.”

She scowls, her pale skin turning a darker shade of red. “You watched. Anyway, it can’t happen again.” She swallows and twists in her seat to glare at me with surprising venom. “And if you tell Alberto, I swear, I’ll set fire to your car.”

I bite back a laugh. “You’ll what now?”

“You heard.”

“Jeez. Who are you and what have you done with Aurora? It was less than two weeks ago that you were on the verge of tears, begging me not to listen to your secrets.”

“Well, I know you’ll keep this secret, because you’ll be just as screwed as me if you don’t.”

“Nothing happened, Aurora. I didn’t touch you; you didn’t touch me. Chill out.” I’m forcing my face to remain unbothered, but inside, my blood is pounding hot and fast against my skin.

She nods, visibly relaxing, like this was the confirmation she needed. “You’re right. We didn’t touch. It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine. It’s Rory, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Rory. I just thought you should know. I mean, now you’ve seen me naked and all.”

What?

Biting my tongue, I shake my head and focus on the coastal highway. Fuck, this was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn’t have picked her up today, but a sick, twisted part of me wanted to see her, just so I could bask in her embarrassment. I thought she’d be flushed and squirming, unable to meet my eye knowing what she did for me last night. I thought she’d be climbing the walls, horrified that she finally has a real sin under her belt.

But this girl? She’s “Rory” all of a sudden. She has a bite, and it’s irritatingly hot.

We drive the rest of the way in silence, and I pull up in the usual spot outside the church.

“An hour,” I remind her. She nods and dives out of the car, bounding toward the forest without looking back.

When she emerges from the trees sometime later, her expression is sullen. Her steps are quick while her hands clench the sleeves of her hoodie.

I still, gripping the steering wheel as I watch her approach the car.

“What’s wrong?” I snap, the moment she opens the door.

She drops to her seat and stares out the windshield blankly. “Nothing. Let’s just go.”

My eyes narrow. “Aurora, look at me.” She shakes her head. “I dare you to make me ask twice,” I growl.

She tenses, but still stares head. Irritation flickering in my gut, I follow her gaze and realize she’s staring at the phone box.

“I was wrong. It’s not fine.” Her soft voice is barely audible, but it shoots me in the stomach. “I have too much on the line to be doing stupid things with you.”

“Forget about it—”

“I can’t,” she interrupts, her tone firmer. “That’s not how it works. I can’t help but do bad things, but it always ends up being okay because I confess and rid myself of the guilt.” She swallows and scrapes a curl away from her face. “And now I can’t, because you own the thing I was confessing to.”

I lean back in my seat, rubbing my hand over my jaw. “I told you, I won’t listen, Aurora. I got bigger things to worry about then your stupid confessions. Go call the line. I don’t care.”

“But you’re not the only person with access to Sinners Anonymous, right? Your brothers have it, too.”

She has me there. No doubt she’ll talk about what happened last night, and if Rafe or Gabe hears it, they’ll put two and two together, and that’ll start a whole shit show. Rafe’s words bounce around my brain: Don’t make me go to war for a piece of pussy. And Gabe? Well, he seems to think he’s psychic these days, and I can’t be assed for his slew of I told you so.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I groan. “And you can’t just keep a fucking diary like everyone else?”

She laughs bitterly. “I’m not even allowed a passcode on my phone. What makes you think I’ll be able to hide a diary?”

Fury burns low and slow in the pit of my stomach.

Not my problem. Not my problem. Not my problem.

I can’t get attached to this girl. Even just allowing the thought to live in my brain rent-free is ridiculous. “And if you can’t confess? What happens then?”

For a moment, I swear her focus moves left. Over the graveyard. Past the church.

To the cliff.

My blood runs cold. Fuck. She’s all sass and mouth, but can she really not deal with her guilty conscience? Hell, I’ve heard a sample of her sins and they are the dictionary definition of petty. If she can’t deal with it when she has an outlet to confess to, how is she going to deal with last night’s sin with no means of confessing?

“Get out.”

Killing the ignition, I round the car and storm up the path toward the church. When I don’t hear her door shut, I turn around, annoyed.

“Do you need a leash?”

By the time I break into the church, she’s at my heels, scurrying into the darkness after me.

“Whoa,” she breathes, slowing to a stop in the middle of the aisle. “You know, this place has been closed since I was twelve.” The thought makes me shudder. Fuck, nine years ago, she wasn’t even a teenager. “I’ve always wondered what it looks like inside.”

“You weren’t missing much,” I grunt back. “Come.”

She follows me down the aisle, round the altar, and to the confession booth on the far right. I thump the mahogany door with my fist, then lean my back against it. “Here. A real-life confession booth, knock yourself out.”

But she’s not listening; she’s too busy walking up the steps to the altar, running her fingers over patterns carved into the pulpit. “You grew up here?”

I pause. “Yeah. My father was the deacon.”

“So I’ve heard,” she says with a sour scowl. “He had quite the hold on the town, apparently.” She stops, then whips her head around so fast that her curls form a wave across her back. “Wait.” Her eyes dart back to the confession booth. “So, your father used to listen to confessions. You do too. You’ve modernized your father’s confession booth.”

“Wow. Gold star for Detective Aurora.”

Her gaze thins, but then it softens. “So, is Sinners Anonymous an homage to your late father?”

“No,” I spit with more venom than needed. I push myself off the booth and join her on the chancel. “Growing up, my brothers and I would spend our Sundays listening to everyone’s sins.” I turn, pointing to the wall behind the booth. “There’s a pretty big gap behind it. All three of us would squeeze in and eavesdrop. What we deemed to be the worst sin, we’d…take care of it.”

I study her face, waiting for her reaction. At first, she’s confused, and then when the penny drops, her brows shoot up. “You mean…”

“Yes.”

She lets out a hiss of air and glances up to the domed ceiling. “I don’t think God would approve of that.”

I huff out a laugh and shake my head. “God wouldn’t approve of a lot of things I’ve done. Anyway, after our parents died, Rafe had the idea to modernize our childhood game. And that’s how Sinners Anonymous was born.”

Her body tenses, and instinctively, she takes a step back from me. Good. Aurora would do well to stay away from me.

“So you still eavesdrop, and what you deem to be the worst sin, you…”

“Take care of it. Once a month.”

She staggers backward, like the weight of this revelation is too heavy. I can barely hide the smirk on my lips. See, this chick wouldn’t know bad if it slapped her around the face. But then she steels herself, and something animated flashes across her face.

She takes a step forward.

So do I.

“You find it hard to be good.”

My gaze drops to her mouth. The need to run a finger over my bottom lip makes my hands itch.

“Impossible.”

We stare at each other. She swallows and palms her cheek, like she’s checking her own temperature. “And on Wednesday?” she rasps. “Were you…taking care of it?”

For a moment, I leave her question to hang in the air between us. Then slowly, I nod.

She sucks in a sharp breath. “How?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, Aurora.”

“I want to know.”

Her voice is coated with something thick and delicious, and it’s enough to make my dick swell. I study her more intently and realize her breathing is ragged and her pupils are expanding in those cinnamon eyes.

She’s enjoying this.

Fuck.

Taking a deep breath, I rake my hands through my hair and glance up at the ceiling, like I’m hoping God will save me from this temptation. Yeah, right. Like I’ve ever given him a reason to help me out. When I turn my attention back to Aurora, my gaze darkens.

“We blew him up.”

Her eyes flutter shut for a brief moment. “Did you enjoy it?”

I take another step toward her, dropping my head so my lips almost brush against the tops of her golden curls.

“Yes.”

Her breath skitters across my shirt. “I thought you went straight.”

“I did.”

She dares herself to look up at me, but there’s an edge to her gaze. “But—”

“I need release, Aurora. Avenging sins gives me the same release you feel when you confess them.”

She nods slowly, eyes falling to my Adam’s apple. When she talks, it’s barely a whisper. “Some of my sins are so bad that I don’t feel release when I confess them anymore.”

I bite back a smile. Fuck, she’s adorable. “Like what? Telling your teacher your dog ate your homework, when, really, you just didn’t do it?”

With a flash of anger in her eyes, she widens the space between us. Before I can stop myself, my hand shoots out and I drag her back against my chest. I’m not done having her so close. She glares at my grip on her arm pointedly.

“Oh, yeah,” I drawl, dragging my hand back to my side. “No touching. I forgot.”

Flustered, she turns her attention to my shoes. “I’m not as innocent as you think I am, you know.”

Ice prickles in my chest, and just one question bubbles up my throat: Because you fucked half of Devil’s Coast Academy? But I swallow my retort. As much as it pisses me off, her sex life is none of my business. “Then, tell me what you did.”

“I can’t,” she mumbles. “Because I haven’t done it yet.”

I laugh. “What? Then what have you got to confess to?”

“Just thinking about it. Knowing I’ll eventually do it. It’s bad enough.”

I open my mouth to make another sarcastic comment, but the way her hands are clenched into tight fists stops me. Whatever it is, it’s really haunting her. Slipping my hand under her chin, I tilt her head up to look at me. “You’re a silly little girl, Aurora,” I grind out.

Her gaze hardens. I feel her jaw flex against my thumb pad. “That’s not what you said last night.”

A hiss escapes through my teeth. “Seems like you can’t get last night out of your head.” Pinning me with a steely glare, she doesn’t reply. I cock my head over to the confession booth. Rub my thumb pad over her soft cheek. “Is that what you’re so desperate to confess? That it felt so good to have me watch you finger-fuck yourself last night?” I tighten my grip, stifling a moan when her breath skitters over my hand, hot and hard. “Or that you’re wet at the thought of it happening again?”

Silence. It fills the space between us, suffocating me with sickly sweet tension. “Both,” she finally whispers.

Darkness licks at the walls of my stomach. I breathe in, breathe out. Shift my gaze to above Aurora’s head, because if I look at the torment in those big fucking eyes I’ll know I’ll lose my shit. I’m not this guy anymore. I’m not Vicious Visconti. He’s locked in a box somewhere at the back of my brain, but now, I can hear him thumping against the lid, desperate to get out.

The suggestion tumbles from my lips, coated with a husky lust, before I can stop it. “There’s an alternative to confession, you know.” Our eyes clash. Hers sweet and innocent, mine dark and corrupted.

“What’s that?” she rasps. But by how fast her chest is rising and falling, I know she already knows.

“Atonement.”