Page 43 of Liberated By Sin

Font Size:

Page 43 of Liberated By Sin

He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his heavily inked chest. Saliva moved down my throat, and I swallowed a little harder than I anticipated in the face of taut muscle and a cocky smirk.

“Elaborate.”

Setting down my weapons, I mimicked his stance and schooled my expression. “I tried to kill you three times last night, and you make me bacon and eggs.”

“Would you prefer pancakes?”

I opened and closed my mouth, suddenly rendered speechless.

“What are you looking for, Santino?” I finally asked with a huff.

“You and I have a lot in common. And we share a secret.”

Was this the part where he blackmailed me?

“Careful. You sound more and more like a loose end.”

Santino chuckled and pushed off the counter. As he stepped closer, I was forced to tip my chin to meet his eyes. And with a hand over his hard torso, I stepped back, taking a seat on the island.

“What happened to your coffee table?”

His grin opened up, eyes flicking beyond me, toward the living room and the furniture in question.

“Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d take waking up on my sofa, and I didn’t want you to hurt yourself in the event you decided to jump up and attack me.”

I didn’t know what to make of this man. He’d risked his life to help me. And even after I threatened him, he still insisted on these small gestures without a morsel of resentment. Wary as I was, because men weren’t often kind without some twisted, vested interest driving their motive, something told me Santino was being sincere. Letting my guard down wasn’t an option, but neither was outright killing him.

Then, there were the emotions fluttering inside me. As a woman in the business of sex, I’d entertained a revolving door of men—many considered beautiful by societal standards. Yet I’d never seen them beyond a payday or took notice of anything apart from what I could exploit and the size of their bank accounts. But for reasons I refused to unpack, Santino affected me.

He made me aware of things I otherwise wouldn’t have thought twice about, like how my hair probably looked like a family of birds had taken up residence, how I didn’t have a toothbrush, and that I was barefoot.

I found myself instinctively pulling the sleeves of Santino’s borrowed shirt past my knuckles to hide the scars etched around my wrists. Not just because my past was mine and opening that door was not an option at the moment, but—I lifted my eyes to where he stood watching me, waiting for me to speak—Santino brought out insecurities I thought I’d long made peace with. I didn’t want him to see the broken parts ofme…for him to see my flaws, the ugly pieces that resided inside me, and the ones painted on my skin.

“I have to go,” I blurted, rising to my feet.

The smile he wore vanished as I stormed past him.

“Wait.”

By the time he caught up, I had already started reserving a ride. “I’m sorry you went through all this trouble.”

Sorry?Had I just…apologized? I couldn’t remember the last time that word slipped past my lips.

“Amara, at least let me take you home,” he urged, tugging my elbow.

I whirled around, jaw clenched. “Look, whatever you think could happen between us, it can’t, and it won’t. One, you’re my boss. And two…I—” I paused, searching for the right words as my heart picked up pace.

He tilted his head slightly, gaze thinning as he searched mine. “You what?”

“I take my clothes off and shake my ass for money. I’m a whore, Santino,” I said, venom oozing from every word. “And every now and again, I like to spill the blood of those men who see me as nothing but entertainment.”

The grin creeping across his face was not the reaction I expected or hoped for. Santino leaned in, lips coasting over my ear.

“I think your attempts at scaring me away are…cute.” He twirled a curl around his finger. His touch was intrusive. Brazen. Yet my knife wasn’t piercing his gut. “I know what you do. That ass is what caught my eye in the first place. And maybe there’s nothing sexier than a woman who knows her way around a gun and one who doesn’t mind a little blood.”

He dared to push an unruly strand of hair behind my ear…and I let him.

“I don’t minda lotof blood either.”




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books