SINS of the Rex Book 3 Read online

  SINS of the Rex Book 3

  Emma Slate

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. ©2016 by Emma Slate. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit in any form or by any means.

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  Contents

  SINS of the Rex Book 3

  Description

  Part I

  One Year Later

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Part II

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Part III

  Prologue

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Epilogue

  Become a Sinner!

  Thanks and Stuff

  Other Books By Emma Slate:

  About the Author

  SINS of the Rex Book 3

  One year later…

  Everything is calm. Has been for months. I can finally breathe again. Flynn and I are back on track, our family is complete, and The Rex Hotel in Las Vegas is about to have its grand opening.

  Too bad serenity never lasts.

  Secrets are unraveled.

  Nothing is coincidence.

  Betrayal. Anger. Vengeance.

  Power is up for grabs.

  Empires fall.

  Will ours endure?

  Part I

  One Year Later

  Chapter 1

  The late summer breeze caressed my skin as I reclined in the lounge chair by the private pool. The secluded villa was tucked away in the Italian countryside, twenty minutes outside of San Gimignano. The air smelled of ripe fruit and earth.

  I reached for the cool glass of white wine on the table next to me, my eyes drifting to my cell phone.

  “Don’t do it,” came my husband’s deep and rumbly voice.

  I looked at him. He was in the lounge chair next to mine, his muscular chest glistening with sun and sweat. Flynn angled his head, and though I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, I knew they were an intense shade of cobalt, and no doubt lit with humor.

  “Don’t do what?” I asked.

  A smile cracked his beautiful lips. The man wasn’t handsome by traditional standards. He was too raw, too rugged. He was perfect—and all mine.

  “They’re fine.”

  “I know they’re fine,” I protested weakly.

  He made a Scottish noise of disbelief in the back of his throat; it was a noise I would never be able to replicate no matter how long I lived in Scotland.

  “I promised you a honeymoon,” he said. “A honeymoon doesn’t include children.”

  “Probably because a honeymoon is supposed to happen before the children are even in the picture. Our honeymoon is long overdue—we can make up our own rules. One call,” I pleaded.

  “We’ll call tonight to check in.”

  “Do I have to remind you what happened the last time I left Hawk?” I still had nightmares about Hawk’s kidnapping. Not frequently, but enough that I could never forget what had happened.

  “I remember.” Flynn’s voice went soft but hard.

  “And it’s not just Hawk. We have the twins, now, too.”

  “Barrett, they’re fine. There’s nothing to worry about. Arlington is in prison. Winters is dead. There are no more threats.”

  “I just can’t help but think the other shoe hasn’t dropped yet.”

  “It’s been a year, hen.”

  “A year is nothing,” I muttered. “Besides, I barely remember this past year since I’ve been completely preoccupied with our children. I’ve been in a baby coma.”

  “Which is why you should be glad we’re here, just the two of us. You get to drink wine, eat fresh seafood, spend time with me. If you’re nice, I’ll even let you make love to me.”

  I let out a laugh.

  “I know it’s hard, but can we try to remember that we’re not just parents? The bairns are old enough that they don’t need you every moment of every day. I’m just trying to give you some perspective.”

  “I’ll show you perspective.” My hand reached up to pull the bow behind my neck holding my bikini top in place.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  The scrap of material fell away. “I don’t want any tan lines,” I feigned in sham innocence.

  Flynn lowered his sunglasses, cobalt eyes gleaming with desire. “You’re too far away.”

  The villa was surrounded by an eight foot wall and the trees along the wall were even higher. We had complete and utter privacy and there was no chance of anyone seeing us.

  “And you have too many clothes on,” I teased.

  Flynn yanked down his navy blue swimsuit, his eyes hot. He sprang free, proud, ready, and waiting for my hands and mouth. I stood up and went to him. His hand grazed along my outer thigh, tugging down my bikini briefs.

  “Come here,” he whispered huskily.

  I swung my legs over the lounge chair so that my naked body straddled his. My fingers trailed down the column of his neck and I leaned over to press my lips to his chest. Flynn inhaled sharply as my tongue traced the lines of his pecs. I moved lower, nipping his belly, enjoying the strained tension in his limbs.

  “You’re killing me,” he gritted.

  “I’m taking my time,” I said with a wide smile. “I finally have you all to myself.”

  He leaned his head back against the lounge chair and closed his eyes. I tormented him with light touches and soft kisses. Grazing my breasts along his thighs, I scooted down until I was at the heat of him. I grasped him in my hand, gently squeezing him before rubbing him up and down. Flynn’s breathing became labored and raspy and a moan escaped his parted lips when I took him into my mouth. He was throbbing, ready. My auburn hair fell over his lap, shielding me from his view.

  “Enough,” he commanded. “I need to be inside of you.”

  I let him haul me up by my arms until I was sitting astride him. I reached down to hold him, positioning him at my entrance. I slid down onto him slowly, reveling in our desire, in our connection. We fit together perfectly. He wrapped his arms around me as I rocked against him, taking him slow and deep. Our mouths sought each other, fusing together. Any hope of taking it slow vanished. He gripped my hips, spurring me on to ride him harder, faster. Clasping his shoulders, my eye
s closed as pleasure snaked through me. I glided against him, skin flushed and slick.

  “Barrett,” he growled against my mouth.

  I slammed down on top of him and came hard. My nails dug into his shoulders as his hands left my hips to grab my hair. I stared into his eyes as Flynn bucked beneath me, his strong muscular legs solid strength. One of his hands stroked down my back, urging me to lean forward. He took a nipple into his mouth, pulling it deep into the warmth of him. He sucked me hard, on the verge of pain, but it sent a jolt of lust through me.

  He grunted and moaned when I clenched around him. My second release swept through me with the force of a tsunami, slaying everything in its path. With a shout, Flynn speared up into me and came.

  I collapsed onto his chest, our skin sticky and sweaty. The late afternoon sun brushed my back in a warm caress. Closing my eyes, I reveled in the quick pace of Flynn’s heartbeat.

  “Is it me,” I whispered, “or does it keep getting better?”

  “Aye.” His hands slid along the small of my back before resting low on my tailbone. “Any better and you might just kill me.”

  Before the sun completely sank into evening, Flynn and I managed to untangle ourselves from one another. We got into the pool, the cool water washing away the heat of our coupling. Though we were sated, we still found reasons to remain close and touch one another. An ember of desire always flickered low, easily fanned into a fire that consumed. Wanting him hadn’t stopped. Not even after three children and the exhaustion they brought.

  Flynn scratched at his chin, the dark shadow of a beard beginning to sprout. He made a face. “I need to shave.”

  “Why?” I demanded, my own hand coming out of the water to trace his cheek. I loved the raspy feel of his skin.

  “It itches.”

  “You could let it grow.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You think I’d look good with a beard?”

  “I think you’d look great with a beard.”

  I rested my hands on his shoulders while my legs went around his waist. He traced a drop of water from my shoulder down the slope of a breast.

  “These,” he cupped my breasts in his large hands, “are fantastic.”

  I snorted. “They used to look a lot better.”

  “Ah, love,” he teased with a roguish grin. “I didn’t take you as the vain type.”

  “I’m not vain,” I said. “I just kind of wish things looked like they did before the babies. Is that wrong?”

  “No. It’s not wrong, but it’s wishful thinking. You still look amazing. You run every morning,” he reminded me. “You’ve got a nice round arse. If you’d like, I’d be glad to pay homage to it.”

  I smacked his shoulder playfully and laughed. His eyes darkened with serious intensity. The sun had finally set; the colors of twilight sprinkled the sky and highlighted his strong jaw.

  “Have I thanked you?” he asked.

  “For?” My arms wrapped around his neck and I pushed myself closer.

  “Everything.”

  I sighed and brushed my mouth against his. “I should be thanking you.”

  “Why?” he asked with genuine wonder.

  “Because you gave me the family I didn’t know I needed.”

  He smiled gently. “So you’re no longer mad at me?”

  “Mad? Why would I be mad at you?”

  “Where should I start? How about when I took you in form of payment for your brother’s debt?”

  “Took me?” I repeated, aghast.

  He grinned. “Or what about when I didn’t tell you I ran an illegal brothel and casino and you confronted me after getting drunk with Ash?”

  “I wasn’t drunk.”

  He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

  “Fine, I was tipsy, but I was still in charge of all my faculties.”

  “Hmmm. All right. Let’s see, what else?”

  “Quit while you still have all your working man parts,” I said, causing him to laugh. It turned into a groan when I reached between us to caress him. He was hard again.

  “Will you put my working man parts to use?” he demanded, his mouth already coming to take mine in a consuming kiss.

  “I plan on putting them to use the rest of the night.”

  Chapter 2

  “I’m starving,” I said, rolling away from Flynn before he had a chance to engage me in another round.

  “Me too,” he said huskily.

  I laughed, dodging his wandering hands. I switched on the bedside lamp before reaching for Flynn’s discarded white undershirt and throwing it on.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. “And putting on my clothes only makes you hotter.”

  I turned my backside to him and flashed him my bare bum. “You’re pretty good at this husband business, Flynn Campbell.”

  “I aim to please,” he said, finally getting up.

  “This was a really good idea,” I said while I watched him pull on a pair of gray boxer briefs.

  “What? Getting out of bed? I completely disagree.”

  “No, I mean, just you and me, here, without the bairns.”

  “You miss them, though, aye?”

  “Well, sure. But it’s a nice reminder that before them, it was just you and me.”

  “It wasn’t you and me for very long.” He took my hand and led me out of the bedroom. We walked down the hallway and into the living room of the villa. It was cool tawny stone floors and whitewashed walls; open and airy, with an incredible view of the Italian countryside which was a smattering of bright, rich colors a painter would have a difficult time capturing.

  “Any regrets?” I asked as we entered the rustic kitchen.

  Flynn opened the bottle of red that rested on the long wooden table. I went to the refrigerator to pull out the pot of seafood stew that had been left for us upon our arrival that morning.

  “Regrets?” Flynn asked, pouring two glasses.

  I ladled out enough stew to fill a bowl and turned the burner on low. “Yeah, regrets on how things worked out.”

  “Not really,” he admitted, taking a seat.

  I snorted.

  “Guess you haven’t forgiven me for the twins, aye?” he asked with a knowing grin.

  “Oh, I’ve forgiven you.”

  “Because I got the vasectomy.”

  “I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,” I admitted with a wry smile.

  “I thought our family was complete—besides I was afraid for my life if I didn’t go through with it.”

  “Well, with our luck, if we hadn’t taken measures, we would’ve had another baby. And I would now be insane,” I remarked dryly. “I don’t even remember those first few months after Iain and Noah were born.” It had all been a blur, even with the help of two nannies. Hawk had become a full-time handful since he’d been close to walking—and even though he was young, he’d understood that he wasn’t the center of attention anymore, causing him to become quite the troublemaker.

  “Question,” Flynn asked, handing me a glass of wine.

  “Shoot.”

  “Let’s say you hadn’t gotten pregnant with the twins. Would we have stopped at one?”

  “It would’ve been nice,” I admitted. “Having just bit more time with Hawk by himself—before Iain and Noah—but no. I would’ve wanted Hawk to have siblings.”

  Flynn smiled, looking a bit relieved.

  “Have we never really talked about this?” I asked, checking the soup.

  “I think we’ve been a bit preoccupied this last year,” he said.

  “Truth,” I agreed. Though things with the SINS were good, three young children accounted for the insanity along with Flynn constructing another Rex Hotel in Las Vegas. The opening was in a few weeks, and he’d been spending the last few months flying back and forth from Dornoch to Las Vegas. But we were finally getting our bearings and Flynn and I were reconnecting.

  Turning off the burner, I poured the soup into the
waiting bowl, adding a dash of pepper and two spoons. I brought it to the table and set it down in front of Flynn, who leaned over to smell it.

  “Smells good,” he admitted.

  My stomach rumbled. “It does.”

  I grabbed my glass of wine and took a seat. Flynn scooped up a spoonful, blew on its contents for a moment before giving me the first taste.

  Brine, tomato, and clam all hit my tongue. I closed my eyes as I savored it. “Oh, God. This is incredible.”

  Flynn took the next bite and whole-heartedly agreed. “We should hire an Italian chef.”

  “Then my arse really will get rounder.”

  “I wouldn’t complain,” Flynn said with a roguish grin. He kept his gaze on me when he asked, “Did you want a girl?”

  “Did you?” I asked just as softly.

  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about raising a girl. Boys—boys I ken. I was one.”

  “I’ve heard some stories from Ramsey and Duncan,” I reminded him. “I’m aware of just how much trouble you were.”