Page 127 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
He smirks at me and leans down, capturing my hands and pressing them into the mattress.
“If you really want this though, just be aware: I will be all over your ass.”
“Which is sort of the point?” I tease, but his face takes on a serious tint.
“No, I mean it. You’re new to this side of the life. You defer to us; you listen. You don’t take unnecessary risks.” Sin studies me as I give him an acerbic look back in response. “I’ll apologize in advance: I can be controlling.” He shrugs his shoulders, but not like he’s sorry. Just like he’s relaying a simple fact. “I just want you to be safe. That used to mean leaving here. But with the mafia actively trying to kill you? You’re safest with me. Just remember that once you’re in, you’re in. You belong to me.”
“Just remember that I might also rebel at times and punch you in the face,” I admit, reaching up and touching the side of his nose with my thumb. Guess it isn’t broken, but he sure did bleed a lot. “Does that work?”
“Will you at least try to listen?” he asks dryly, but it’s my turn to shrug. He curses at me again, putting more weight on my hands, leaning over me. “As a man, I want to take care of my girl.” Here he sighs and his face takes on an exasperated quality. “Even if she is marrying another guy.”
“Your macho crap isn’t going to work on me,” I tell him, but he just gives me a saucy frown and sits back, releasing my hands just long enough to take off his shoulder holster, dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “You should know that, right?”
“I want to be a provider,” he says, running his hands over my rib cage and down my belly. My muscles contract as I inhale. He traces his fingertips over my curls, over my wet cunt, my thighs. “I want to take care of you; it’s what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve always tried to do.”
“I can take care of myself, Colton,” I tell him, which is true, but also, I’m hoping it’ll tick him off just a little at the same time.
“That might be true, but you’re not asking four older dudes to be your lovers and expecting that things won’t change at all.”
I slide my foot along the back of his leg, tempting him.
“What’s new? The four of you have been bothering me and playing daddy kink games with me for years.”
“Daddy kink?” Sin asks with a scoff. “Please. It doesn’t have to be weird, us taking care of you. Don’t make it weird.”
“It’s weird,” I reply, and that annoys the shit out of him.
“I’ll pamper your ass if I have to tie you up each and every time you need it.” He climbs off the bed, tearing his shirt over his head as he goes. He drops it on the floor and squats low next to one of the dressers.
“What are you doing?” I ask, rolling onto my side to watch him. The slide of muscles in his back is a treat for the eyes. Sin glances back at me, his face bathed in shadows. The only part of him I can really see is that sharp mouth of his.
“You know that I live here, right?” he asks, but I didn’t. It hadn’t really occurred to me until now to wonder where these men lived, where they laid their heads, where they … I won’t think about other girls. I won’t. It’ll just infuriate me. Sin turns back to the dresser and opens the bottom drawer. “This is my room.”
“This is your room?” I ask, looking around. It hasn’t changed much at all since it belonged to my grandmother. But I guess that isn’t really Sin’s thing, interior decorating and all. Where would he find the time?
“I lived in the dorms for a while, then one of the cabins up the way, then here.” He stands up suddenly, something shiny dangling from his fingers. So … from living with his asshole father, to the dorms, to those shitty staff cabins, to my grandmother’s house where bodies are buried?
It occurs to me then that Sin has never really had a home.
We could be each other’s homes, I think, and then I almost gag on the idea. Since when did I get it in my head that things might actually work out here? That eventually, I could find some small sliver of happiness. This is going to come back to bite me in the ass, isn’t it?
“Your father doesn’t want us to fuck with anything in here,” Sin says, swirling his finger around in a circle. “So pardon the décor. Old lady chic isn’t really my thing, but I’ve at least got my own clothes in the dresser.”
