Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series

“Eric.” I huff.

He doesn’t even blink. “No.”

“Are you for real right now? It’s just a few blocks.”

“I am for real.” Eric replies, not changing his tone.

I’m annoyed but he sounds so ridiculous that I almost laugh.

I look at the dark sedan and then back at Eric. “But it’s so nice out.”

He pulls open the rear passenger door. “Boss’s orders.”

I give up the fight and slide into the rear seat. Figuring he’d take shotgun; I’m surprised when Eric circles the rear of the car and joins me in the back.

I catch the driver watching me through the rearview mirror.

I smile. “Hi. Sorry for making you wait. I didn’t mean to be a pain. I just wasn’t expecting the car.”

The driver nods to me. “No problem, ma’am.”

My eyes narrow and Eric lets out a very fake sounding cough. I cut my gaze over to him. “Keep it up, Chuckles.”

He ignores me and speaks to the driver. “We’re making a stop at BeanBag.”

“Copy that.” The driver replies as he pulls out into traffic.

“Really?” My mood instantly brightens. “Thank you.” I tell them both.

Settling back, I watch the pedestrians as I think about how much my life has changed in the past 48 hours. I have a bodyguard. Apparently, I have a driver. And – most notably – I have a boyfriend. Though the term hardly seems fitting for a man like Vincent. There is nothing boy about him.

At first glance, Vincent seems like he’d be terrible at relationships. He is Mr. Sin after all. My Las Vegas Devil. But he proved that he can be a good partner last night. I’m not sure what he all said to Eric, and I probably don’t want to know, but his idea of putting the couch in the hall was brilliant. Although I think the credit for my good sleep needs to go to Vincent himself. He stayed on the phone with me all night. Literally, all night.

When I climbed into bed, he had me plug my phone in and then set it to speaker on my side table. In that sexy, deep, rough voice of his, he told me to lay down, shut my eyes and listen.

So I did. I laid there, listening to him talk to me. He talked about work mostly, telling me that he would bore me to sleep. Before I had called him, he’d been reviewing some documents for a building he’s buying in New York, so he just started reading that to me. He could read a cookbook and it would still be panty-melting. Which probably explains my filthy dreams. 

When I woke up this morning, I saw that our call had lasted for over six hours. I’m assuming Vincent also fell asleep with the phone on. I just hope he got enough sleep for himself.

The car pulls to the curb in front of BeanBag.

“Would you like anything?” I ask the driver, realizing I never got his name.

“Oh, no. But thank you for asking.” He smiles at me.

I start to reach for my door handle when Eric’s hand lands on my forearm. “Wait for me.” When I widen my eyes at him, he adds, “Please.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Feeling like a total snob, I let Eric open my door, guide me across the sidewalk to BeanBag, and then hold that door open for me as well. The telltale sound of the coffee bean filled rain stick announcing our entrance.

I give Eric a slight bow as I pass. “Instead of ma’am, you can address me as her majesty from now on.”

“Hmm, that has a nice ring to it.” The reply doesn’t come from Eric.

I spin around and find Vincent striding towards me, Angelo not far behind him.

The grin on my face is instant. “Vincent! What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t stop until our chests are nearly touching, wrapping his hands around my upper arms. “Buying you coffee, of course.”

“Of course.”

He leans in as I go up on my toes. Our lips press together for just a heartbeat. But it’s enough to settle that last bit of me. The bit that’s been off kilter since going home last night.

“Good morning, your majesty. How’d you sleep?” Vincent asks while he runs his hands down the length of my arms.

“I slept great. Thank you.” When our fingers twine together, I say it again hoping he’ll know how much I mean it. “Thank you.”

He gives my hand a squeeze. “Anytime. Now let’s order. I know I could use a pick me up.”

Benny the Barista only made it 90% obvious that he was gawking at my new entourage. I’m fairly sure showing up with just Vincent would have gotten me that same look, but tack on Eric and Angelo and we really are a sight to be seen. Eric is in another set of all-black bodyguard gear, and Angelo looks like an oversized NFL player wearing the dressier version of Eric’s outfit. And Vincent… Vincent looks just like the devilishly handsome business mogul that he is.

Standing amid my group of men while we wait for our beverages, I’m zoned out and not paying attention to the people coming and going until someone says my name.

“Sasha? Is that you?”

I can feel Vincent tense next to me. I turn and find myself frozen in indecision, not sure how to handle this new development.

Standing a few feet away is Jason. A man who I dated, causally, for a short while, but whom I haven’t seen in months. Of fucking course, I would run into him here. Today, of all days.

Jason doesn’t seem to notice my hesitancy as he approaches. “How’ve you been?” His gaze drags down my dress-clad body. “You look great.”

I cringe. This isn’t going to go well for him. “Uh, hey. Thanks.”

Jason’s smile hasn’t dimmed. He clearly hasn’t read the room at all, since he continues to get closer, raising his arms as though he’s going to try to give me a hug.

I don’t have to decide how to respond. Vincent drops a heavy arm over my shoulders and steps so he’s standing slightly in front of me, acting as an oversized, overprotective human shield.

The move is enough to finally have Jason’s smile slipping. His eyes darting back and forth between me and Vincent.

“Vincent, this is Jason. Jason, Vincent.” I give introductions in a surprisingly normal voice.

“Oh, hey man.” Jason holds his hand out.

When Vincent doesn’t immediately take it, I glance up. He’s giving Jason a hard once over, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. This dick measuring is pointless. And unnecessary. I know who’d win that contest, and it isn’t Jason.

I also know exactly what Vincent sees when he looks at Jason. He sees a good looking, nerdy 30-something, who’s slender and just a few inches taller than I am. He was a nice enough guy, but honestly, I felt like I was going to smother him any time we were together. It’s no fault of his, but I was always self-conscious of my size when we were together. That’s not why we didn’t work, but it’s one of the reasons I didn’t try harder at what could have become something.

Vincent though, I don’t ever feel like I’m too much for him to handle. And if anyone is going to break during sex, it’s me. I warm at that and lean into Vincent’s side.

That must be the right move because his grip on me tightens and he finally accepts Jason’s offered hand.

“Ex-boyfriend, I take it?”

Vincent’s direct words shock me so much a strange squeak comes out of my mouth. “Vincent!” I whisper at him.

Jason seems just as flustered. “Uh, well, not exactly. I mean we dated.”

“You got a last name, Jason?” Eric’s voice has me turning to see him standing on my other side. My peripheral vision showing that Angelo is standing behind me.

“Um…” Jason trails off.

I let out a string of silent curses. It probably looks like I have some sort of oversized reverse harem.

I try to give him a sincere smile. “Jason, please excuse the cavemen routine. It was nice to see you.”

When Jason doesn’t move, Vincent leans forward, ever so slightly. “Bye, Jason.”

Finally taking the hint, Jason backs away, nearly knocking over a small table, before he turns and hurries out of the store.

I swat at Vincent’s abs, but he snags my wrist. Holding my hand against his hard stomach, he bends down, putting his lips next to my ear. “If all your ex’s are little pricks like that, then this caveman routine is going to be easier than I thought.”

He punctuates his statement with a kiss to my temple.

I should be mad at him for being such an oaf, but I don’t have it in me. I do feel a little bad for Jason though.

I raise my eyes to respond, when my gaze locks on yet another familiar face standing in line for coffee. Jessica. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is open as she stares right at us.

Oh shit.