Sinners Consumed: An Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance (Sinners Anonymous Book 3)

a smugness to his expression that I want to pour acid over. It’s hard to believe this is the same miserable cunt that’d sneer in disgust any time talks of him taking a wife would fly over the dinner table

the only frustrating thing about living in simp-mode is that I haven’t found that thing that makes her eyes light up yet.

Three weeks of groveling. Three weeks stuck in redemption purgatory, playing a game only Penny knows the rules to. Three weeks of taking her out, paying her a hundred dollars—plus tip—for every kiss. Three weeks of staring at her living room window from across the street all night, every night, in case she changes her mind about not sleeping in my car.

Oddly enough, I’d be lying if I said I hated it. Fuck, at least it’s been three weeks with her in my life. Besides, I’ve become weirdly obsessed with finding out what makes her happy. With every beautifully wrapped box I slide over a candle-lit dinner table, I watch her tug off the bow with baited breath, hoping it’ll make her eyes light up in that way that makes my cock hard.

“It’s been three weeks

“I told you to choose your route to hell, Rafe,” I say quietly. “It’s not my fault you chose the long way ’round.”

His stare blisters my back as I cross the road and disappear into my apartment building

You won’t sleep

“I’ll be parked out here all night, in case you change your mind

“No more. Goodnight, Rafe. Thank you for dinner.”

He groans, dropping his chin to my knee. “Don’t be such a stubborn little shit. At least sleep in the car

His eyes are black and hungry as they climb down my hoodie and watch my chest rising and falling. “How much to kiss your other lips?”

He sucks on my bottom lip, glancing up at me with half-lidded, dangerous eyes as he releases it from his mouth with a visceral pop.

Fuck. The sound is a carnal sin, and the way it heats my blood only makes me want to hear it again. I chase his retreat, kissing him more violently. Each kiss hotter and wetter, each frictionless touch of our tongues steaming up the windows a little more