Perfect Sinner by Maggie Cole

24

Nolan

Several Months Later

"Stop! Please stop!"Gemma cries out.

I sit up and tug her onto my lap. "Gemma, wake up!"

Tears streak down her face. She sobs into my chest. It's the third time this week she's had nightmares. Over the last few months, they come and go, but Orla figured out the new burner phone number again. It's the fifth one I've bought for Gemma. I don't know how Orla can get access to them. Declan and I have done everything possible to secure the lines, but she always seems to find Gemma.

Every message she sends her is more graphic. Photos with Gemma's face look real. Videos with Gemma's voice edited on them are just as vivid. And since her father, Rory, got out of prison, some of the messages are threats from him.

Within days of his release, he sent a video of a new man he was giving Gemma to and the warning she was to turn herself over to him, or he was going to put her in one of his whorehouses.

My desire to kill Rory has never been greater. No matter how much we try to get to him, we haven't had the chance. Now that he's out of prison, Orla is constantly by his side. The problem is, security around Rory, his brother Mack, and Orla is so strong, we'd have to create a war in the streets. While I'm not naive to think it may not come to that, it's not a preferable option. Even the winner would have casualties unless a miracle occurred.

The messages always seem to come when I'm not home. It's as if Orla knows I'm not by her side to intercept them.

I push a sweaty lock of hair off Gemma's face. I murmur, "It's okay. You were having a nightmare again."

The shame-filled expression she always wears after she has a nightmare appears. It tears at my heart. No matter how much I tell Gemma nothing Orla does is her fault or how it affects her, she seems to carry an abundance of self-loathing over it.

Music blares from my alarm. I reach over and turn it off.

Gemma sniffles. "Is there something going on this morning I forgot about?"

Nerves suddenly swarm my belly. "I have a surprise for you."

"What is it?"

"Pack the smallest bikini you own."

She arches her eyebrows.

I chuckle, more from nervous tension, and I'm unsure why. Colin's on-again, off-again girlfriend from Europe surprised him with a visit. I finalized the new algorithm this week. Now, we have to wait for Jack Christian's company to go public. Gemma had several new clients hire her. We've both been working a lot. It's also the anniversary of my mother's death. I normally spend it with my family, but I don't feel like dealing with it this year.

The wars between all the crime families in Chicago are stressing me out. Boyra Petrov, Zamir's brother, came to town and kidnapped Sergey and Kora. The Polish mob gunned Adrian Ivanov down. My brothers, Liam, and I, took care of them and pissed Darragh off. Kora, Sergey, and Adrian are all okay, but since those two events happened, I can't stop thinking about how if it could happen to them, nothing is one hundred percent foolproof. Every day Orla and Rory live is another day they can get to Gemma. And all the messages they somehow figure out how to send to her have created a lot of extra anxiety.

Plus, my twin sisters, Erin and Nessa, won't leave my brothers and me alone about where their snake husbands are. Liam discovered they were cheating our clan out of money. One thing O'Malleys don't excuse are thieves among us. Once Liam brought it to the leaders of the clan's attention, they tore them to shreds and disposed of their bodies in a meat grinder. The longer they are missing, the more my sisters look at my brothers and me for information. Frankly, I'm sick of hearing their names and want to tell them their husbands were lying pieces of shit who never deserved the role my uncle Darragh gave them. Of course, I don't. So when Colin suggested we rent a yacht for the weekend on Lake Michigan, it seemed like a great idea. While Molly and Gemma are polite to each other, I don't think they'll ever be friends. However, Gemma and Colin get along well, and we see him often.

I drag my finger down her spine. "I hope you like yachts."

Her face brightens. She questions, "Yachts?" then bites on her lip.

"Colin and I rented one for the weekend. His girlfriend from Europe surprised him a few days ago."

Her lips curve up. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"We have a yacht all to ourselves for the entire weekend?"

I chuckle. "Yep."

She gapes at me.

"Are you going to pack? Or do you want me to do it?" I tease.

She throws her arms around me. "This is awesome! Thank you!"

I squeeze her ass. "You can thank me later."

She softly laughs and kisses the spot below my ear. "I won't let you down."

My second alarm rings. "You have less than an hour before we leave."

She pecks me on the lips and jumps off the bed. "On it!"

We quickly shower, dress, and pack. When we get in the car, Gemma picks up my hand. "What's Colin's girlfriend's name?"

"Madison."

"She's from England?"

I nod. "London, to be exact."

"Have you met her?"

"Not yet."

Gemma bites her lip and stares at me.

My stomach flutters with nerves again. "What's the look for?"

She brings my hand to her lips and kisses it. "This is a nice surprise."

I lean my head closer to hers. "It's purely selfish. I get to stare at you in your bikini all weekend."

She softly laughs then presses her lips to mine, sliding her tongue in my mouth and creating a buzz in my veins. It's been months since I met her. At this point, I should be used to her kisses or how her body feels against mine. Nothing about her laugh, smile, or even tears should affect me the way they still do. Against all logic, everything seems to grow more powerful between us.

She straddles me. We make out until the car stops and the doors from the front slam shut. She pulls away, and we glance out the window at the dock full of yachts.

She starts to move off me, and I hold her to me. "Hey."

She gives me a tiny smile. Her blue eyes shine with excitement and curiosity.

The feeling I can't seem to get rid of around her intensifies in my chest. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. Words merge together in my mind. I peck her on the lips and finally settle on, "You look really beautiful."

Pink creeps into her cheeks. Her smile grows. She places her hand on my face and runs her thumb along my jaw. "You aren't too bad to look at, either."

I grunt, grin like an idiot, and squeeze her ass. "Let's get on the yacht and pretend this is our life on a daily basis."

She continues caressing my jaw. Worry fills her eyes. "I don't know how you handle all this."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything. Your family issues. My family's threats. Me."

Blood rushes between my ears. I blurt out, "You make it worth it."

Silence fills the car. My heart pounds against my chest. Gemma and I are in a dance about who we are together. I'm not sure why I become a coward whenever the chance arises to tell her how I feel about her. Something keeps holding me back from expressing my feelings. Several times, I've told myself not to go there. We live together. I'm committed to protecting her. It's no longer because I want to know what Orla is threatening her about or because I promised her I would. It's an inherent need to make sure no one ever harms her. I would step in front of a bullet if it were flying toward her. But I'm not sure if Gemma's with me because we're living together and have chemistry, or if I'm more to her than that. So the voice in my head keeps telling me not to go there. Once it's out, I can't take it back.

The days Rory and Orla have on this earth are numbered. Once they're dead and Gemma no longer has threats against her, I don't know if she's going to want to move out. Maybe I'll have just been someone she's passed the time with and can easily move past. The thought pierces my soul and seizes my lungs.

There's a knock on the window. "O'Malley! Get your ass out of the car!" Colin shouts.

Gemma laughs. She rolls off me, and I open the door. I'm half relieved, half pissed off. Once again, I didn't have the balls to ask her what we're doing and if I mean anything past casual to her.

We get out, and Colin introduces us to Madison. She's a petite woman, with dark hair and eyes so blue, my guess is she's wearing contacts. Her nails are perfectly manicured, and everything about her is perky. She speaks, and her London accent is prominent. "Lovely meeting both of you."

"You, too. Are you here long?" Gemma asks.

She glances at Colin and wiggles her eyebrows. "A few weeks. We'll see how it goes."

I'm not sure what that means. Based on Colin's expression, my guess is he doesn't, either. I make a mental note to ask him later about it. I hadn't heard of Madison until a few days ago. According to Colin, they were on-again, off-again over the few years he was in Europe.

We make our way to the yacht. Three crew members stand at the entrance at the stern. They help us onto the deck and give us a tour.

It has four en suite bedrooms, a kitchen, and several sitting rooms inside the cabin. The bow has a small pool, hot tub, eating area, and plenty of sunbeds and shaded areas to lounge around in.

"Wow! This is amazing!" Gemma beams, and my heart swells. My only goal this weekend is to make sure she stays happy. A person can only take so much stress. I've watched her over the last few months try to juggle it and still keep going. She's the strongest woman I know. Yet, my biggest fear is something will happen. The night I found her with pills is always fresh in my mind. I cringe every time, thinking what might have happened if I hadn't arrived home at the moment I did.

"I can't believe this is a lake. It looks like an ocean," Madison gushes as her eyes dart from one side of the ship to the other, taking in the sparkling blue water.

A man in a captain's hat steps onto the deck. He holds out his hand. "I'm Captain Rick. Sorry I couldn't meet you when you arrived. I had a few issues I needed to take care of before we leave."

"No worries. I'm Nolan. This is Gemma." I shake his hand.

He leans over and kisses Gemma's cheek.

"Colin. This is Madison." Colin and Captain Rick shake hands. He kisses Madison on the cheek, too.

"Looks like we're going to have perfect weather. Any questions before we head out?" he asks.

None of us have any, so Captain Rick declares we're leaving. He excuses himself, and we decide to get our bathing suits on.

Gemma pulls a tiny white bikini out of her suitcase. She puts it on, and my pulse pounds in my neck. I step behind her, circle my arm around her waist, and drop my hand to her slit. I trace it and murmur in her ear, "When did you get this suit?"

She inhales sharply and sinks against my chest. She turns her face, and her lips twitch. "It was in the package that arrived last week."

"What else did you get?"

She smirks. "Maybe if you're a good boy, you'll find out."

My erection grows against her ass. "I plan on being a very good boy." I slide my hand under her suit and into her wet heat.

She shuts her eyes, and a tiny whimper flies out of her mouth. Her hands grip the sides of my thighs. She breathes, "That's good."

"What I'm doing to you, or that I plan on being a good boy?" I flick my tongue against the back of her lobe and circle her clit faster.

"Ummm... Jesus, Nolan," she whispers, and she digs her nails into my skin. Heat rushes to her face, and she blinks several times.

"God, I love everything about you," I mumble then freeze.

She jerks her head and holds her breath. Her blue eyes widen, and her mouth hangs open.

I'm not sure if I should feel relieved I finally admitted it or curse myself. Time stands still. The sound of the waves lapping against the boat competes with my heart. I'm sure she can hear it.

She finally breaks the silence. "Did you mean you love my body and the sex we have or me?"

My mouth goes dry. "Both."

She arches an eyebrow as if she doesn't believe me. I'm not sure if I just screwed up our entire weekend and home life or not. But I've crossed the line, so there's only one thing to do.

I spin her into me, cup her cheeks, and force her to look at me. "I love you. I have for a while."

She stays quiet, and my gut sinks.

My insides quiver like a bowl full of Jell-O. I quietly beg, "Say something. Please."

Her eyes fill with tears. She scrunches her face. "I love you, too. But how can you love me? I'm a mess."

Conflicting emotions plague me. I'm buzzing that she loves me. I'm horrified she thinks she's anything but spectacular. I firmly state, "No. You're nothing of the sort."

"I-I'm a ball full of anxiety all the time. I wake you up every other night screaming in terror. My career is barely existent. The money I make compared to what I used to is pennies on the dollar. My independence and the person I used to be, the one worthy of a man's love, they're both gone."

My heart breaks. There's no more analyzing or debating what to say or keep inside. I just start talking. "Then you don't see what I see. When I look at you, I see strength, beauty, and grace. You're a woman who should be bitter and maybe even cruel based on all you're enduring, but you're nothing of the sort. You're kind. And funny. Every punch that's thrown your way, you take and then get back up. And when I'm not with you, I feel off. Like something is missing. So if that's a mess, sign me up."

A river of tears stream down her cheeks. She shakily asks, "So when I can move out, you still want to see me?"

"No. I don't want you to move out." My entire torso is in chaos. I've never laid it on the line like this before with any woman.

She shakes her head, and my heart drops. I think she's going to tell me she wants to move out. She replies, "I don't want to move out."

A breath of relief flies out of my mouth. "Thank God you said that."

An emotion-filled laugh escapes her lips.

I dip down and kiss her. I put everything into it, as if my life depends on it. In some ways, maybe it does. Not moving forward with her might as well be death.

She clings to me, feeding my need for her.

There's a bang on the door. Colin shouts, "You staying in there all day or coming out to get some sun?"

Gemma bites her lip, and I turn my head toward the door. "Be out in a few. Now, fuck off." I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs then return to kissing her. When I pull back, I grin. "You did say you love me, too, right?"

She smiles. "Yeah, Nolan. I love you. Everything about you."