Secret Sin

4

To my surprise, it was Bishop’s filthy words that nudged me ever closer to the cliff’s edge. I hadn’t known words alone could be so erotic, but every time he spoke, my insides melted. “Bishop!” “My girl likes it dirty, doesn’t she?” He was like a freight train, relentlessly tunneling us both toward ecstasy. “That’s it, baby. Squeeze my c**k. Jesus.” My lips parted in a silent cry as a cataclysmic o****m overtook me. It swept me away and temporarily erased me from existence. I was nothing but tingling sensation. A river of molten pleasure. Bishop’s release erupted with a growl that reverberated from deep in his chest. He clenched me close for three slow but deliberate final thrusts, his body bowed around mine. I basked in the afterglow. I’d done what I’d set out to do, and everything about the moment was utter perfection, aside from our little hiccup. I felt certain Bishop would get over my deception. If he felt half as blissed out as I did, he could forgive a multitude of sins. What other choice did he have? OceanofPDF.com I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep until my phone rang hours later. It was seven thirty at night, and Conner was calling to find out why the hell I hadn’t shown up for work. I mumbled an apology, then tossed the phone back on the nightstand, only to roll over and realize the bed was empty. The f**k? I peered around the dark room. The setting sun cast only a soft glow through the shades, but I saw no signs of Pippa. No note or discarded clothes. She could have been waiting for me in another room, but something told me she was gone. Motherfucker. I’d rolled onto my back after the best s*x of my life, my sated kitten draped over me, and passed out. The two hours of sleep I’d had the night before had caught up with me. Feeling Pippa’s soft body pressed against mine was the last thing I remembered. s**t. Had she tried to wake me? How long had she lain there, wondering if I would wake up? Talk about firsts. I didn’t think I’d ever been walked out on. It was usually the other way around—me slipping out of some chick’s apartment, hoping to skip the awkward morning-after talk. I should have been happy, then. Right? She’d saved me the trouble of sending her on her way. Except what we’d done hadn’t been an ordinary screw. Hell, the words Pippa and ordinary didn’t even belong in the same sentence. Instead of relief, I felt this strange clawing sensation under my skin. Irritation. I didn’t like that she was gone. What the hell was wrong with me? I shoved off the bed and made a quick loop of my apartment. My instincts were right—no sign of her. I didn’t like not knowing if she made it home safely even though it had been light out when she left. I decided that I should check on her and make sure she was okay, trying to convince myself it was her safety that concerned me rather than finding out the reason for her disappearance. Or worse, you could just want to see her again. f**k, this was bad. I stalked back to the bedroom and took a quick shower. I needed to clean up just as much as I needed to clear my head. I didn’t need this kind of complication in my life. A f*****g virgin. Jesus Christ. She’d given every indication that she was anything but innocent, yet I felt her body give way the second I pushed inside her. A body that was temptation incarnate—feminine curves and skin soft as a ripe peach. She was f*****g incredible, and I was her first. What was it about that fact that made me feel so damn barbaric? Like I needed to bang my chest and drag her back to my cave where no other man could even look at her. When I’d first met her before Conner’s wedding, I couldn’t deny her appeal. Warm brown eyes, sandy-blond hair, and sun-kissed skin like she’d lived her whole life on the beach rather than in Manhattan. Then there were the hours we’d spent together on the day of the wedding. She was so full of energy and life. It was intoxicating just to be near her. Her addictive nature was the whole reason I ended up agreeing to take her back to my place when I knew it was a bad f*****g idea. She was Italian. Her uncle was the goddamn Moretti family boss, and I had cut up her v-card like an expired driver’s license—utterly worthless. A surge of anger clenched my jaw so tight I was worried I’d c***k a damn tooth. I could be pissed all I wanted, but it changed nothing. That was one bridge that could never be crossed again. The only thing that would help at all was to at least reassure myself the damn woman had made it home alive. I got dressed for work, then forced myself to call Conner back. My boss and longtime best friend wasn’t going to like hearing I’d f****d his new wife’s cousin. Should have thought about that before you had her up against a wall, dickhead. I shook my head as the phone rang. “You finally get your lazy ass up?” Conner deadpanned in lieu of a greeting. “Wouldn’t have overslept if you hadn’t left me with such a mess to clean up last night. You know how hard it is to get blood out of white grout?” I’d cleaned up the remains of a dead Albanian after Conner had gone on the warpath. I was glad he got the fucker, but the cleanup had been a b***h.

“That asshole was lucky I needed to get home. Should have drawn it out for days,” he muttered. I grunted in understanding. Those ruthless Albanian fuckers had been after us for weeks and had even killed Conner’s uncle. I couldn’t deny his right to be pissed. I just wished he'd let out his anger in a plastic-lined cell where I didn’t have to spend all damn night drawing blood out of concrete. “You call to argue with me or what?” Conner asked. His brevity didn’t bother me. I’d known him since we were kids. I was closer to him than I was my own brother, which meant we gave each other s**t regularly. “You wish. I need Pippa’s phone number.” Silence filled the air. “Why?” The single-word response was filled with wariness. I measured my words carefully, knowing my answer wouldn’t go over well, no matter what words I used. “We didn’t exactly make it to her parents’ place.” “The f**k?” he roared. I held the phone away from my ear and grimaced. “She’s an adult, man. Practically begged to come back to my place.” “Doesn’t mean you take her up on it. What the f**k have you done?” If he only knew how bad it was, I’d probably need a surgeon after he got ahold of me.