Stolen Sin – Fake Marriage Mafia Romance Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
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“Do you like my brother? As more than a means to an end.”

I open my mouth to tell her absolutely not, of course I don’t, but then I pause because for some reason, I feel like she’d know if I were lying. It’s the way she’s looking at me, like she can see straight into my brain and read all the little folds there.

“I’m not sure how I feel about Simon. It’s complicated.” I think of that kiss after the family dinner. About how he invited me into his bed—not to have sex, or so he claimed—and how I wanted to accept.

But I knew that if I did it, if I got under those sheets with him, I’d never want to leave again. I’d be giving up my small bit of privacy, giving up this tiny wall I’ve built around myself, and I’m not ready for that.

“Feelings are complicated,” Laura agrees. “Except sometimes you idiots make it harder than it has to be.”

“My dad got scammed,” I say, blurting it out, and not sure why I’m telling her at all. I feel exposed, and add, “I think that’s why I find it hard to trust him. Simon, I mean.”

Laura lets out a breath. “Makes sense, but Simon’s one of the most honest people I know. If he says something, you can trust that he means it.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You haven’t figured that out yet, have you?”

“I mean—” I hesitate because she’s right, I still haven’t admitted to myself that Simon’s been nothing but straightforward with me from the beginning. Our relationship started out with a power imbalance—he caught me stealing and could’ve ended me then and there—but now he treats me like an equal, and I like that.

“Whatever. Do what you want. I don’t even know why I’m pretending to care.” She turns back to the piano and raises her hands, but before she starts playing, she looks at me. “You can go away now, please.”

“Oh, right.” I backpedal to the door. “Sorry to disturb you, uhm, you play beautifully, and⁠—”

She bangs on the keys, her expression completely flat, until I hurry away. I hear the dissonant chords turn into a beautiful, haunting melody as I step back out onto the sidewalk.

What a fucking weirdo. I mean, seriously, that girl creeps me out, but what she said is really sticking in my head.

Simon’s honest. He says what he wants. And he says he wants me to sleep with him in his bed—not necessarily to have sex, but because it would deepen our relationship as man and wife.

I like the idea. I mean, it might make things easier, if we have a little intimacy.

I can’t tell if I’m trying to convince myself of something stupid.

But maybe Laura’s right. Maybe I am making it more complicated than it has to be—I mean, we’re married for five years, right? If I want to sleep in the same bed as my husband, I might as freaking well.

The world won’t end. It’ll be totally fine.

I march away, already thinking about how I’ll broach the subject with him tonight, and worried that he has already changed his mind about the whole thing.

Chapter 22

Emily

I let Simon know that I’m cooking dinner again via text but he doesn’t respond. The house smells like frying butter, garlic, and shrimp, and I’m boiling linguine and drinking an enormous glass of wine, and I start to think this is a really bad idea.

There’s no reason to rush anything. I can stay in my guest room, keep on hanging around with Freddie and Elena, basically find ways to pass the time until five years have come and gone.

But there’s the pesky little problem of giving birth to his child.

I can make excuses. I can think of a dozen reasons why sleeping in Simon’s bed the way he wants me to is a good idea. I can twist myself into pretzel shapes, smash myself with all manner of rationalizations, but the best reason is the simplest.

We’re going to fuck one day, and I don’t want it to be awkward.

Not that Simon would ever be awkward in bed. That guy practically oozes sex—I can’t imagine he’d have any trouble making me come just about a dozen different ways.

No, I’m worried about myself.

I have experience. I dated guys in high school and did some hand and mouth stuff. I had sex with a boyfriend when I was twenty, and another boyfriend when I was twenty-two, but none of those guys stuck, and neither of them had even half the raw magnetism of my current husband.

I’m not a virgin. But I’m definitely inexperienced. And I need to feel comfortable with Simon if I’m going to be able to perform up to what I have to assume are his lofty expectations.

Meaning, it’ll help to sleep in his bed.


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