Sinner's Gin (Sinners, #1)

He hated that he was curious, but despite shoving Carl as far back into the recesses of his mind as he could, the man loomed large in the shadows, poisoning every kiss he ever had. Then Kane showed up and shattered the darkness like it was nothing.

“Yeah, it was him,” Kane said. “He’s dead, Miki.”

And just like that, he was gone. They were both… gone. His cop continued talking, murmuring about fingerprints and technicians, but Miki didn’t hear a word Kane said. All he could think about was that Carl and Shing were dead. Really dead. Forever taken off of the same dirt he walked on and no longer sharing the same air. He knew it was stupid. They’d never been near him over the passing years, but still he could feel the sickness and poison of their breath when he inhaled. Finally, he was free of that.

It was over.

The first breath he took after the realization of their deaths tasted so sweet in his lungs, he had to take another.

Then his eyes stung, and he let the tears gathering on his lashes fall, listening to Kane talk in his low, Irish-whiskey rumbling growl. There was some mention about a man in a beanie, but Miki couldn’t focus on anything other than the warmth of the man next to him and the silence of the world around him.

He was finally… irrevocably free.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Kane reached over to smear away Miki’s tears with his thumb.

The salt turned his skin slick, and Miki laughed. “Nothing. I just feel… okay, you know? I’m kind of… okay. Especially now. Here. With you.”

The man turned slightly, pressing his chest down on Miki’s shoulder to fit their bodies into each other. Kane’s thick, heavy cock and long legs on him made Miki’s skin burn with want, and when Kane’s hand stroked up Miki’s bare arm, he shivered with the tingling, erotic whispers his mind leaked into his consciousness.

“How much with me were you thinking about?” Another stroke of Kane’s hand, this time on the inside of Miki’s thighs, set him on fire.

“A lot,” Miki murmured. “A fuck of a lot, actually.”

In the middle of all the craziness, he could always find Kane, his solid and sardonic touchstone. He’d been there through the pain and confusion, pushing forward and asking questions Miki didn’t want to answer. Even in the anger they first shared, Miki had known Kane wouldn’t hurt him. Not in the ways he’d been hurt before. No, the pain Kane would give him would be like nothing he’d ever known.

“I can see you. Do you know that?” Kane whispered as he kissed the corner of Miki’s mouth. “When you are about to open up to me, then something inside of you pulls in. It’s like watching a flower die right in front of me, Miki love. And it kills me every time. Talk to me, Miki. Tell me what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours so I don’t have to watch you die in front of me.”

It was about trust. He knew that with Kane, and it scared the hell out of him to fall and expect the man to catch him. He’d tumbled to the hard ground too many times, breaking everything inside of him. If he’d been smart, he’d have walked away after Kane hugged him in the police station, but as soon as the man’s arms wrapped around him, Miki felt safe. Safe in a world where Carl still breathed, and in that moment, Miki knew he couldn’t walk away from the cop. His cop.

“You.” Miki swallowed, trying to keep the sour down in his stomach. “What happens when you don’t need to be here anymore?”

“Need?” Kane’s deep laugh broke free from him in full force, and his wicked, gleaming smile tugged at Miki’s heart. “Oh, Miki love, I more than need you. You’re my temptation. My sin. I’ve got no intentions of being anywhere but next to you. We Irish? We like bathing in our sin.”

“Suppose it doesn’t work?” Miki gestured between them, and suddenly the ceiling disappeared as Kane covered him, straddling his hips. Balancing his weight on his shins and forearms, Kane brought his face in close to Miki’s, so close that he could taste the sweet coffee Kane had on his breath. “Suppose….”

“Sometimes, Miki, you’ve got to stop building sand castles just to watch the ocean take them away,” Kane murmured against his cheek. “Sometimes, you just need to find someone to sit on the beach with you.”

“I hate the beach,” Miki whispered back. “Sand gets up my ass. I hate that.”

“How about me? Getting up your….” It was a leer. That was the only word for the look on Kane’s face, and Miki rolled his eyes.

“What’s with you and the cheesy shit? That crap actually work out for you at some point?”

“You know, Mick m’love,” Kane growled. “I think I’ve got better things for that smart mouth of yours to do besides talk.”

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