Syndicate of Sin

Chapter 2

Dateless and nearly penniless, I sat at the bar in a club rumored to be run by the Mafia and took a sip of the only good thing I had going for me tonight—alcohol. Austin had left me nearly thirty minutes ago, and I couldn’t get myself to go home alone.

Gaze drifting around the packed club, I spotted her for the seventh time tonight.

herChocolate-colored hair. Huge f**k me brown eyes. Pouty, full raspberry-colored lips.

fuck me She sat on a man’s lap and kept stealing glances at me all night. A silky pink dress clung to her curves with a necklace dipped between her cleavage, drawing my—and probably everyone else’s—attention to it. The woman was i********: influencer perfect, but without the filters and the Photoshop.

I hadn’t ever been with a woman. God, I’d be way too anxious for something like that. I was bad enough as it was with guys. Ahem, Austin. But I’d gotten off to the thought of being with one.

way Ahem, AustinNever one as beautiful as her.

She was with her boyfriend.

When she slid her shot glass across the bar for the third time tonight, I spotted a large diamond ring on her finger and a wedding band glimmering under the dim club lighting. A long, disappointed sigh escaped my mouth.

Nope, definitely her husband.

Figures.

FiguresAfter averting my gaze back to my drink, I took one last sip of it and stared emptily at the bar top. I should’ve never come out tonight. Not only had I gotten to witness Austin flirting with every petite, prettier-than-perfect girl at The Syndicate, but he had left me here.

Left me here!

Left me here!Who the hell did that to anyone? I would never invite a boyfriend out and leave him alone at a club without a way to get home and with a crazy-high bar tab. But I guessed he didn’t give a f**k. It wasn’t like we had ever been exclusive.

“Hi,” someone said to my right.

I snapped my head up and my gaze over to the pretty married woman, who scooted onto the barstool next to me. My breath caught in my throat. What is she doing over here?

married What is she doing over here?“What are you drinking?” she asked.

My cheeks burned. I glanced to my left to see who she was talking to because it definitely wasn’t me. It couldn’t be me. Why would she come chat with me out of all these people here? She had a husband.

Unless … she thought I had been staring at her husband and not her.

“I’m talking to you,” she said, giving me a soft smile. “What’re you drinking?”

“I, um …”

She was smiling at me a bit too sweetly. What is going on?

What is going on?Darting my gaze around the room, I spotted large Italian guards posted at almost every door, walking around the club, lingering near the back offices. Those rumors about the mob had to be true.

If she was with them—which she seemed to be—then maybe she was going to ask me to go for a little chat in the back hallway for staring in her direction and then blow my freaking head off.

Damn Austin. Why’d he leave me?

Damn Austin. Why’d he leave me?“Amalfi Coast cocktail mixed with Afterglow,” the bartender who had been serving me all night said.

“Can we get two more?” she asked.

I grabbed my purse, knowing that I had just spent the last of my money, trying to forget Austin, with a couple of drinks of alcohol and loud, blaring music. “I actually don’t have any more cash on me.”

God, this is embarrassing.

God, this is embarrassingGlancing down, I gulped. “I should probably get going anyway.”

“Nonsense,” she said, her hand on my thigh to keep me seated. “My husband owns the club. It’s fine. I was going to buy you a drink anyway.” When the bartender slid the drinks toward her, she thanked him and told him to put all the rest of my drinks tonight on her tab.

all “You … you really don’t have to do that,” I whispered.

“You’ve been here all night. Alone.”

“Yeah, I, um …” I sipped my drink. “My date left.”

“He left you at a crowded club, all alone? Doesn’t sound like a winner.”

“He’s not,” I admitted, leaving out that part where I had only been seeing him because he had a huge d**k and loved taking me to fancy places—something I’d never see otherwise. “But he takes care of me … sometimes.”

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, inching closer and leaning against the bar. Tequila lingered on her breath, her eyes a bit hazy, as if she’d had a bit too much to drink tonight. But if she really was the mob boss’s wife, they wouldn’t cut her off. She brushed her fingers against my forearm. “If he cared about you, he’d bring you home. Not leave you in a club, where strangers like me could come flirt with you.”

Almost as if she realized what she had said, she widened her eyes and stiffened.

Warmth exploded through me as my heart raced inside my chest. I swallowed my pride, my insecurities, everything, thanks to the liquid courage I had drunk tonight, and smiled back. “So, that’s what you’re doing here? Flirting with me?” I asked playfully.

She dropped her hand to my knee again, her fingers lingering on my bare flesh. Instead of moving her hand up my thigh, like I’d suspected her husband had been doing to her earlier while she stared over at me, she held it there, face softening.

“Is that too forward?” She giggled.

I glanced down at her hand on my knee and pressed my thighs together slightly to suppress the ache between them. When I looked back up at her, she dropped her gaze to my thighs.

“Maybe not forward enough?” she offered, fingers moving an inch higher. “Hmm?”

After pressing my lips together, I clutched my glass tightly and stared into her playful eyes. Slowly, she slithered her fingers up my thigh and underneath my skirt, and I didn’t stop her. I let her touch me, tease me, taunt me with her fingers.

When she reached my panties, she stiffened, sucked in a breath, and gnawed on the inside of her cheek. “God, you’re wetter than I am,” she murmured, which only made my p***y ache even more.

I sucked in a sharp breath, too, and spread my legs a bit wider. “Still … not forward enough,” I said, caught in the moment.

Her pink-painted lips twitched into a small smirk, and she gently touched my clit, rubbing it in circles underneath the bar top so nobody could see. Still, I peered around to make sure everyone had busied themselves with someone or something else.

If anyone saw this, saw us …

“What’s your name?” she whispered.

“Sage,” I said in a breath as she massaged my clit. “Wh-what’s yours?”

“Laila,” she said, gaze dropping to my lips. “Say it.”

“Laila,” I repeated.

“One night …” she said, smirking. “One night, you’ll be moaning it.”

Another wave of pleasure rushed through me, nearly pushing me to the edge already.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you all night.”

“But your husband …”

“Is okay with this,” she finished. “He even suggested it.”

“Are you … serious?” I whispered, unable to believe this was real.

She was either dead serious or had had a few too many drinks or a combination of both.

She took my hand. “Let me show you.”

“Show me what?”

“How serious I am.” She pulled my hand up her dress and placed it over her panties, which were completely soaked through.

Warmth rushed through my core, and I clenched.

This couldn’t be happening. This really couldn’t be happening.

I glanced around to ensure nobody was watching us, then couldn’t stop myself from drawing my thumb over her swollen clit. I furrowed my brow and whimpered to myself, the heat growing inside me.

Laila softly moaned, staring at me with huge f**k me eyes that no woman had ever given me before. I had been the one to deal those out to Austin every night for the past few months.

fuck me And while I knew I should be getting away from this place and going home, I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing my thumb faster against her clit. My hand was buried underneath her skirt, and heat was coming off her in waves.

“Do you want to come meet my husband? We have a proposition for you,” she asked suddenly, still rubbing my clit.

proposition“What kind of proposition?” I asked, heart pounding.

“One million dollars in exchange for you being our toy.”