Page 74 of Wicked Sin

“Because this thing I’m talking about—kink, power exchange, me being in control—it’s who I am. And the PG-13 level stuff is some of my favorite parts. There’s a lot of that in a social setting, and as dorky as it sounds, my family is a good chunk of my social life.”

That doesn’t sound dorky. It sounds sweet, and so far from my realm of understanding that I can’t even imagine it.

And he’s still talking. “It’s always a big fucking crowd, and I’ve taken women before. Which sounds wrong. I mean, I’ve taken dates sometimes as a one-off…which sounds even worse. It’s no big deal. My family never thinks I’m going to settle down…”

This time when he trails off again, and I burst out laughing.

“Wow. That hole just kept digging itself, didn’t it?”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” he growls. “Explaining family dynamics and admitting how my sisters think I’m a fuckboy and it’s kind of okay is not one of them.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Are you a fuckboy?”

“No.” He pauses then doubles down on that. “No.No.”

“That sounds like a yes, Luke. It sounds like you are admitting that you are a kinky fuckboy, and this conversation just took a very honest turn.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek, looking adorably drunk and honest. I think this might be my favorite Detective Vasquez yet. “Fine. I like sex. I have sex. I’m honest about that. I don’t really have relationships, because of my job.”

“Mmm.”

“Come on, Taylor. You get it.”

“I haven’t had sex for three years. What do you think I get?”

His mouth drops open.

And then closes.

Good. Now we’re both having record skips in the brain.

The woman he was talking to about canceling plans was a sister.For fuck’s sake, neither of us are good at this communication thing.

“Three years?”

I wave my hand. “I had a lot of fuckboy sex before that, don’t you worry. I mean, you know about a lot of it. Some of it was on the evening news.”

“That does win top fuckboy status between the two of us,” he says dryly.

“Well we can’t all be discreet fuckboys, now can we?” I tilt my head sideways. “When was the last time you…”

“A few months ago. And a few months before that. Last year I had a casual relationship that was off and on for most of the year. She came to Sunday night dinner twice, but then not again, because it wasn’t really our dynamic. The relationship before that one was the closest to what my family would like to see me have, but it was crazy messy in other ways. We worked together.”

“Another cop?”

“A lawyer, an assistant district attorney who didn’t love how I sometimes do my job, and that came home with us. We lived together briefly when I sold my house, before I bought this one. It proved we weren’t compatible.”

And would we be compatible? What would our dynamic be? So many questions. And then there’s the wholeway-too-fucking-soonelement. “I don’t know how I feel about meeting your family. Plus won’t they recognize me?”

“Sure.” He frowns. “Are you worried about your safety, or me being embarrassed by you?”

“Both?”

“They know I’m a cop. I trust my family with my life. They would never expose you to any danger. And there’s nothing about you that I’m embarrassed about, Taylor.”

“My past.”

“Is in the past, right?”

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