Counting other people’s sins

does not make you a saint.

-Pinterest Meme

He’s had his arms around her all damn day. Laughing and making her giggle while feeding her drinks. I doubt Jude’s ever drank alcohol before now, and she’s well on her way to full-on drunk. He’s doing it on purpose; I’ve seen his game many times over. Hell, most of us have done it at least once in the past.

It’s different this time. I don’t want her broken. And he’ll be the first to do it to her. He’ll get her toasted and then use her up until he’s had his fill. She’ll be left with a shell of herself, wondering how a man could take so much and give nothing in return.

It’s unfair of me to think of him like this; after all, he’s been so good to me personally over time. However, I know him the best, and I’ve seen how he has no regard for a woman beyond scratching an itch. It’s been great while I wanted the same thing, but my feelings are beginning to change. I have Jude to blame for that. All I do is attempt to stay away from her and keep her safe. But clearly, that’s gone to shit with my brother stepping in.

She’s fallen into a twisted web, and I’m the one at fault. I should’ve covered my tracks better. Jesus, I never should’ve stepped into Jude’s life in the first place. If I’d just stayed away, Saint never would’ve gotten wind of her. But I couldn’t force myself to keep away and not make sure she was okay.

And overall, how can I fight for her with a man I love? When it boils down to it, that’s how I feel about him. I assumed with our lifestyle, we’d never have to cross a bridge where a woman would be placed in the middle of it.

I can’t possess Jude like I desire; I know that. However, I don’t want Saint to hurt her, either. If he’s angry enough, he’ll bleed her dry in sacrifice, and a piece of me will hate him for it. I don’t want to despise him in any way; he’s been everything to me since I was a teen.

Slamming my fist on the table, I interrupt their laughing, “She’s had enough.” Standing from my stool, I shuffle the few steps around the table to collect her. I’m done watching him and her like this. I want her in my bed—with me.

Saint grins, not fazed. “We’re having fun, brother.”

“And you’ve had enough entertainment for tonight. She’s drunk and fuck if I want to be holding her to the toilet all night while she pukes her guts out.”

“So, don’t.” He waves me off. “Let’s fuck the alcohol out of her. She’ll sober up.”

Jude giggles, tucking her face into his chest, not realizing what exactly that entails. The action makes me rage inside. I want to yank her away and yell at her that she’s mine, not his. I found her first. He doesn’t get to have her without me; he should know better. I can’t believe I’m even dealing with this right now. I worked so hard not to fucking touch her before.

“No. She’s sleeping it off.”

“Fuck you, Sinner. You don’t make decisions for her. She’s not your bitch; she’s community property right now.”

I want to punch him as the words fall from his lips. Of course, it’s no big deal to him; he hasn’t been around her for the past few months and watched how beautiful she really is. Yes, she’s beyond sexy, but sometime along that line, she became more than just fresh pussy when I look at her.

“The fuck she is.” The argument rumbles my chest with a displeased growl. Tugging her off the seat, she falls easily. Jude’s trashed and immediately seeks out my arms.

“Oh, hi, Sinner!” She giggles.

It’s impossible for me to be annoyed with her when she’s so adorable, even piss-ass drunk. I love hearing her laugh; I just wish it was under different circumstances.

“Come on, Jude. It’s time to go to bed.”

“Finally!” she declares loudly. “I’ve been waiting for you to touch me like Saint did, for forever it seems,” she admits brazenly, compliments of the alcohol stupor overtaking her senses.

My nostrils flare as my glare meets his over the top of her head, my words grinding with their meaning. “No, you’re going to sleep. Saint won’t be touching you.”

Ever, at this rate.

He rolls his eyes. “The hell I won’t. If you don’t satisfy her, I will. I’ll teach her how to beg and suck cock too.”

“Shut up.” My arms scoop her up into a sturdy embrace since she can’t walk for shit at this point and her nose finds my neck, giving me pleasant chills.

“Please take me to bed, Sinner,” she slurs against my throat. “You smell so freaking good.”

The brothers witness the entire thing, amused, but no one utters anything about it. They all know the same thing I do; this is a clusterfuck already, and it’s going be one hell of a long night. Again.

Oh my God, my head hurts so badly. The pounding is unreal. What was in those fruity drinks Saint gave me yesterday? They tasted delicious—like punch and bad decisions. Blaze is definitely talented when it comes to mixing drinks—you don’t know it’s hit you until it’s too late. Thankfully, there are curtains snuffing out the bright Texas sun, or I may not have survived opening my eyes today.

“Mmmm.” Moaning as I turn over, my stomach swims and not in a pleasant way. Stupid juice. Jesus, it’s like a sugar overload mixed with brain freeze or something.

A grunt comes from beside me, and I lift my head up a little too fast to see who it came from.

“Ouch.” My fingers fly to my forehead and massage my temples, attempting to offer an ounce of relief. After a moment, I pry my eyes open again, finding a mop of neatly trimmed ebony hair on the pillow next to mine.

My perusal dips lower, discovering a naked muscular back, covered in scars. The sight of them makes me cringe, those had to be agonizing however he received them. They’re various sizes, long and short, some wider than the others in various crisscrosses.

The poor man; I can only imagine what he’s been through. Who or what would do such a thing? I know there has to be a significant story behind them, and I want to ask about it, but I’m not sure it would be a welcome topic.

I can’t stop myself from being curious if the rest of him is naked as well. The covers have him hidden from the hip down, not that it does anything to stop my imagination from running wild with ideas. My fingers find the grossly disfigured indentions and lightly trace each one. I don’t know what spurs me on, giving me the courage to do so. Maybe I feel safe because he’s sleeping.

He’s broken, but yet so perfect.

Seeing him dressed, you’d never guess what his clothing hides. The front of him is a thing of beauty, dips and plains showcasing his strong stomach. The muscles aren’t overly pronounced, just enough to make your eyes linger a bit longer. Then there’s his back, and it’s like reading a completely different story. If he were a book, the front cover would mislead you entirely because he has two very different sides.

His physique stiffens as my fingertips follow along their unplanned path, lightly caressing the alabaster blemishes. “What do you think you’re doing?” A gruff voice sleepily mumbles, startling me.

My touch falters for a moment as my heart rate increases before I go about my inspection as if undisturbed. “What happened?” I eventually choke out, not wanting to think of this man being tormented.

“I was whipped.”

“Wow,” I answer breathlessly, even though it was a scenario I’d already considered. Hearing it come from him, though, puts merit behind the brief thought. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He shrugs the comment off, but it doesn’t stop me from touching them. “Does me doing this bother you?”

Sinner shakes his head, holding perfectly still. “No,” he rasps. “To be honest, I like it. Your hands are soft, dainty.”

“You like the pain or me touching them?”

“Both.”

His answer’s confusing. How can anyone enjoy a pain such as this? And what did he ever do to deserve something so harsh? Sinner’s a kind man; at least, he is to me. It’s hard to fathom why someone would want to torture him in such a remarkably cruel way.

“Do the marks still hurt you?”

He shrugs again. “Depends. They can be a slightly sensitive sometimes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“And what about your arms? They’re completely covered in tattoos,” I state the obvious. “Did those hurt worse?”

“Jesus, is there any part of you that isn’t so virtuous, Jude? Have you really been sheltered this much your entire life?” His questions catch me off guard. I’m not used to him speaking much past grunts and mumbles and definitely not about personal things. Usually, he’s grouchy with random short answers, almost like he’s attempting to get me to shut up and stop bothering him, but not now.

“Umm, well, I’ve seen stuff on TV and the internet before. I’ve read plenty of books, but if you’re asking if I speak to people about these sorts of things regularly, then the answer would be no. The only other people like you, stop at the bar on the way through town. I don’t go there, so you’re my first.”

He groans, and I frown. What now? I didn’t say anything bad; I was just being real with him.

“And the drinking last night—you ever drink alcohol before, sweetheart?”

“My mom’s never cared, so I’ve tried some of her lemonade flavored malts.”

“Fuck! You mean Mike’s Hard Lemonade?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“So, you’ve never been drunk before—like last night, ever?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” He moves his back in an impatient squirm once I stop touching his scars, so I continue to rub over his skin casually.

“I don’t know how to make drinks taste sweet and yummy. Plus, I’ve never been around anyone I felt safe with if I was like that.”

“And you did with Saint, of all people?”

“I do with you,” I admit softly, loving that he hasn’t made me stop touching him yet. “I know you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, Sinner.”

“Motherfucker.”

Huffing, I shoot a glare toward the back of his head. “What? I don’t understand why any of this is a big deal.”

He flips over so quickly my mouth drops open. How anyone can move that fast after a night of drinking is beyond me. He pounces, flattening me back against the bed, his body hovering over mine. He makes me feel so small, being near him like this, his body heat radiating toward me.

All I can do is remind myself to breathe in this position. I’ve daydreamed of him like this before, and to have him just like this, is enough to make my body tingle with need. I want to touch him everywhere and let him do the same in return.

“You don’t know shit, little girl,” he declares gruffly. Lowering his lips to linger above mine, mimicking his frame, he confesses, “I would be the one to hurt you. I‘d be the one to fuck you until you couldn’t handle it...I almost did, many times. Especially last night when you were fucking adorable, like a needy kitten.”

Sinner’s lips close over mine in a powerful kiss. His tongue dips into my mouth, forceful and full of desire. The weight of his body warms me, as he lowers his body to mine. Gripping my hair in one of his hands, he gives it a powerful tug, causing me to reward him with a moan.

His sturdy hips grind into mine, the perfect amount of pressure creating delicious friction where I’ve been craving him so desperately. He’s more than anything I’d ever imagined, and he’s merely just begun to touch me. A simple taste and yet I’m spiraling, ready to beg for him to never stop.

He kisses me hard, skilled in tormenting his prey. I love it and can barely breathe—my mind and body so frantic having him touching me like this. It’s everything all wrapped up in a few movements of his mouth on mine, the surrendering, the owning, the claiming.

If I wasn’t his before, I am now. I could never not want a man like him. No matter how hard I could ever endeavor, fighting against it…it’s no use. He calls to me like a beacon in the night. I’m meant to belong to him.

He wrenches back barely enough to watch my face as he jerks my hair again, my mouth open as I pant lustfully after his touch. “You yearn for me to touch you, Jude. Your body fucking melts when my tongue traces it, begging me for more. Yet you let Saint have you too. Why?”

“He said you wouldn’t care. He promised you’d like it if I let him.” My gaze shoots to the side, feeling a bit guilty, before admitting the rest. “I-I melted for him too.”

“You think I want another man’s fingers inside your pussy when even I haven’t been there yet?”

His words have me shuddering, just imagining the way he’d feel in my core. “Oh God.” A moan escapes as he bears down against my center. “I want you there.”

My mind races, picturing his fingers inside me over and over making my panties soaked. “I would let you touch me if you wanted to, Sinner…Any time, any place,”I finish breathily.

“Babe, you couldn’t stop me if I wanted to play with your pussy,” he promises, but it’s not needed because I would never stand in his way. He’d be allowing me to live out the fantasies I’ve been having of him for months now.

I’d let him have every piece of me if he wanted. His hand hastily skirts down my side, pausing to rub the juncture between my thighs over my shorts. Sinner’s mouth meets mine again, and I wrap my legs around his waist, praying for him to quench my thirst and go further.

Our kiss is interrupted by loud banging, and then his doors flying open.

“The fuck?” Sinner yells, glancing behind him at the intrusion.

“Brother.” Saint comes in, uninvited. His curious gaze flicking over us, amused. “I thought I heard moaning.” A grin eventually overtakes his mouth as his eyes seek out Sinner’s hand between my legs.

My body warms even more, embarrassed that others could hear me but still thoroughly turned on. Sinner had me so wrapped up in him kissing me and his hands finally headed to where I wanted them that I wasn’t paying any attention to how loud I was being. I wonder if anyone else heard moaning.

“I told you already,” Sinner gripes. “She’s mine. You need to leave.”

“The fuck I do.” His amusement drops, irritation overtaking, “We share bitches, remember? And she’s not only yours.”

“Y-you share them?” I stammer with a gasp from hearing him admit it aloud. Good Lord, no wonder Saint told me that Sinner would approve of it if I let him kiss me. They’re friends, but this is taking it to another level entirely.

He chuckles while Sinner’s body tightens in response, beating him to reply. “Of course we do, baby girl. You either please both your daddies or you get the boot.” He winks playfully, and I gulp.

“Don’t call me that, damn it.” Sinner replies with a growl.

Saint ignores him, closing the door while wearing a triumphant grin. “You ever sucked a cock before, baby? Or two?” he inquires, and I nearly choke, not knowing what to say.

“Saaaint.” Sinner draws the other man’s name out, a warning in his tone.

“What?” He raises his hands. “I’m just asking questions; no harm there, brother.”

Somehow, he doesn’t seem as innocent as he’s attempting to imply. I’d bet that he knows exactly what he’s doing and is enjoying it immensely. Saint is far from stupid; he’s too smart for his own good.

Sinner stares down at me, and I realize he’s waiting for my answer as well. He clearly wants to know too. Shaking my head, I swallow again, attempting to speak, “I, uh...no. The answer to that would be a no.”

Sinner leans back, putting more distance between us. “We can’t do this, Saint.” He shakes his head, rubbing his hand through his sleep tasseled hair.

“The hell we can’t.” He disagrees immediately as he approaches the bed, keeping me in his sights. “Jesus, baby.” He licks his lips, and his eyes dance with anticipation. “We’re gonna fucking ruin you for all other men.”

Saint’s so confident in his statement, I don’t know if I should be excited or scared. I’m a little of both I think, but mostly turned on so freaking much that I feel like my body may explode if it doesn’t get some sort of attention from the two. If we’d had a few seconds more, Sinner would’ve had me satisfied with his tongue and dirty words alone. Add in Saint, and there’s no telling what they’d do to me. Or the amount of pleasure I’d receive.

“We aren’t doing shit to her right now, Saint. We need to give her a chance to think through all this and what it entails exactly.”

He scoffs. “You have to be joking. What the fuck is wrong with you, Sin? She’s ripe and fucking ready, brother. Let’s break her in already.”

Sinner sweetly lifts the covers over me some more, tucking them around my breasts before replying, “I told you.” He stares into my eyes as he speaks. “She’s innocent, and she’s...different.”

Pretty sure my heart flops over and surrenders to him with that proclamation. Different good, I hope.

“Fuck it, fine!” Saint declares, rolling his eyes. “But if she’s not sucking my cock soon, then you will be.”

Sinner nods, agreeing, and that surprises me even more.

“Now that’s settled, let’s get baby girl fed. You two stay in that bed any longer, and I’ll be in it next, and I won’t be kind enough to keep my clothes on.”