He looks down at me and cocks an eyebrow expectantly.
“Please don’t fuck the waitress.”
He looks down at me for a moment, caught somewhere between tense and tender. His big hand comes close and I lean in once more as he caresses the side of my face. “Don’t worry, Laurel. I won’t fuck the waitress.”
I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. He leaves me here kneeling on the floor and strides away without looking back.
33
Laurel
Sin is at breakfast again the following morning, and I’m so tense, I think I might throw up. I wasn’t suspicious enough last time Rafe made Sin come to breakfast, but afterward it turned out Rafe was watching us.
Does that mean he’s watching us again?
Does that mean he knows Sin was here last night?
He said he was going to up his security, but no one has been here to install anything. I’m here all the time; I would know. Plus, I assume Sin would be smart enough not to come here if he knew Rafe would find out.
I don’t know, but I can feel guilt all over me. The worst thing is, I shouldn’t have to feel guilty. I shouldn’t be held prisoner by Rafe’s vague threats. If I want to be with Sin, I should be able to. I am not in a relationship with Rafe, I’m just shackled by the genes he contributed to my little wiggle worm. Personally, I could not give less fucks about Rafe’s weird family’s view of how things should be.
I want to rebel. I want to fight back. I want to be reckless and tell him where he can shove his threats. The problem is, he’s the head of a criminal organization, so it’s safe to assume they are not just threats. It’s safe to assume they are real, and if I piss him off, he may act on them.
I literally can’t believe I’m in this situation, but since Rafe has me and Sin in the same room together, I’m feeling fearful about how tonight’s going to go. I don’t know if I’m more afraid Rafe will figure out what happened and kill Sin for it, or more afraid Rafe will figure out if he clearly threatens me, gives me a straight ultimatum, I would stay with him indefinitely to ensure Sin’s safety.
Never thought we’d be here, that’s for sure.
I’m doing my best to ignore Sin completely, but it’s really hard to ignore him when he’s in the room, and I’m worried ignoring him is too obvious. Thank God he didn’t give me a hickey this time.
“That’s too bad,” Sin murmurs, his voice catching my ear as I turn to bring their plates to the counter.
I look up, briefly catching Sin’s eye as I put his plate down in front of him. My heart burns with the memory of last night, looking up at him again, tasting him again. I’m afraid it’s all plain to see in my eyes, so I look away just as quickly and move to put Rafe’s food down in front of him.
As Rafe cocks his head at me, I realize I’ve already fucked up. Without thinking about it, I gave Sin his food first. I served Rafe second. Dammit, these fucking Morelli customs.
I decide to go for oblivious and pretend I forgot about all that, flashing Rafe a smile and going to turn away. Before I can, his hand locks around my wrist. I swallow down dread as he pulls me around the counter closer to him.
“Where’s my kiss?” he asks.
Oh, God, this is going to be so much worse after last night. Dread forms like a physical lump in my throat, but I can’t say no. He knows it, too, the evil bastard. His dark eyes dance with amusement, like he’s enjoying this.
Twisted motherfuckers, every last one of them.
Since there’s no getting out of it, I decide to deprive him of his joy in scaring me. I loop my arms around his neck, sigh happily, and plant one on him.
He’s too surprised to respond, so I’m able to pull back and dart away before he can stop me.
I hope it didn’t hurt Sin’s feelings, but if it did, he’s in for a lifetime of hurt feelings. Rafe clearly likes torturing us both. Refusing to let him see m
y agony, I make myself some oatmeal with strawberries and pull up a seat at the island, immersing myself in my book from last night while the men discuss the disappearance of someone named Theo.
I get lost in someone else’s world for a while until Sin’s voice pulls me out of my book.
“I want more.”
Given his tone, it sounds like he’s talking to me. I look up, blinking in confusion. He cocks an eyebrow and shakes his empty mug expectantly.
Arrogant prick. I roll my eyes, but it makes my indulgent heart happy. I’m so fond of this lazy bastard, I can’t even handle it. I slide my bookmark between the pages and stand, grabbing his mug and taking it over to the coffee pot so I can get him a refill.