Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
I sure as fuck won’t.
It’s dark and twisted.
But that doesn’t make it any less of what it is.
A love story. Our love story.
* * *
And I’m so grateful we got a happily ever after. Stories like ours aren’t meant to end like this. It’s only because we stayed together. Only because our love was stronger than our pain.
* * *
The End
Sexy as Sin
W. Winters
Sexy as Sin
From USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Willow Winters, comes a sexy second-chance MC romance.
* * *
I took the fall for a crime I didn’t commit, and it cost me everything. Including the only woman I ever loved.
* * *
I’m not the man she fell in love with. Four years behind bars made me harder, colder… with a temper I can’t control.
* * *
But one look at Kat and nothing else matters. I’m broken without her and a shell of a person I used to be.
* * *
She is my one and only. My addiction and my sanity. I could never imagine how time would change everything and how far we’d drift apart…. but she can’t deny this heat between us and she can’t hide the way her body reacts to mine.
* * *
Kat was mine once and nothing can ever change that.
* * *
I only hope the secrets of the past four years don’t tear us apart the moment I make her mine again.
Prologue
Kat
* * *
If I had known what was going to happen … I would have begged him not to go. I would have even fought him to keep us from walking through those doors. That’s the thing about fate, though—you’re never given a heads-up. But I should have known because everything was just right. When everything is perfect, it’s eventually all going to crumble and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop it.
* * *
Four years ago
* * *
As my heels click against the cement stairs and I walk into the garage, I note that it feels like home. I know every square inch of this place. I’ve practically grown up inside of these four walls. With an arm wrapped around my waist and the bite of the night chill outside waning, all I can do is let a smile slip into place.
Everything is familiar, from the smell of the oil that’s ever present to all the mechanic tools hung neatly on the walls. Any item you could ever need to repair or build a motorcycle is here. Hell, I don’t care in the least about the work that’s done here, yet I bet I could name most of the tools, just from Cill asking me to hand them to him over the years. At a glance I could tell if any of them were out of order—that’s how much time I’ve spent here. Hours and days and years. Basically my whole life. It may seem strange to other people, but the rumble of bikes paired with the loud laughter and hollering that come with the men who are always here is my kind of heaven. I bet ordinary people feel like this when they walk into a cozy living room.
My leather jacket presses against Cillian’s leathers with a faint squeak as we squeeze by the narrow opening to the rest of the three-story building.
The best part by far is holding Cillian’s hand, just like I’ve done for years. His fingers loop easily through mine like we’re meant to be together. We are meant to be together.
I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have a crush on him. In high school we started dating with approval from both of our fathers. My heart warms to think about him as my high school sweetheart. My father said it would make sense; his father said it was a business decision done right. Mob connections from my father, MC from his.
I’m head over heels for the boy I’ve always been told I’m meant to be with. Now that we’re older, it’s only gotten more intense.
An hour ago, we were in his bed. With his hard body pressed against mine and a cold sweat slipping across my sensitized skin, I cried out his name and he murmured his love for me in the crook of my neck.
Cillian’s tall, with hard but lean muscles that work against me. I just barely come up to his shoulders. I don’t think anyone could imagine a man like him saying the sweet things he does to me when he comes, whispering his adoration and promises for our future. It’s like he’s showing me some secret part of him that no one else will ever get to see. I hold that secret close while we walk into the garage together. He pulls me tighter as we move through the door to the staircase at the side of the building.