Secret Sin

Secret Sin is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2022 Jill Ramsower All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. Cover Model: Guy Fedrizzi Photographer: Wander Aguiar Edited by Editing4Indies Created with Vellum CONTENTS Books by Jill Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Epilogue About the Author Social Media & Website Books by Jill Ramsower The Byrne Brothers Series Silent Vows Secret Sin (Novella) Corrupted Union Blood Oath (Novella) The Five Families Series Forever Lies Never Truth Blood Always Where Loyalties Lie Impossible Odds Absolute Silence Perfect Enemies The Savage Pride Duet Savage Pride Silent Prejudice The Of Myth & Man Series Curse & Craving Venom & Vice Blood & Breath Siege & Seduction SECRET SIN A BYRNE BROTHERS NOVELLA JILL RAMSOWER To all the accomplished, generous, intelligent ladies out there who simply want a man with a filthy, filthy mouth. Tequila could really make a girl’s head spin. Or maybe that was just the result of learning my uncle had killed his wife. The news had certainly thrown me for a loop. In the months since my aunt’s death, life had felt frozen in some kind of supernatural time warp. My cousin, who also happened to be my best friend in the world, had lost her voice and wouldn’t leave her house. Our entire family tree was shrouded in grief. Life slowed to a standstill until everything launched back into motion one day, skipping straight past normal and into hyper speed. It was so disorienting that my head spun. I looked at my warped reflection in the brushed metal doors of the elevator and bit back a giggle. Yeah, tequila was definitely playing its part. Noemi and I had downed shots of Patrón while she’d told me the truth about her mother’s death. She’d kept it secret for months, and it felt incredible to remove that barrier between us. To finally be moving forward. “Day drinking?” Bishop’s voice greeted me as soon as the elevator doors opened. I smirked at a twin set of dimples that were too cute to be legal. “I’m an adult,” I quipped back. “Last time I checked, twenty was still a year shy of the legal drinking age in New York.” “Like that ever stopped you.” I hadn’t known Bishop long, but we’d spent hours together at Noemi’s wedding days before, and I knew the carefree playboy wasn’t the sort to bother with rules. He and I had toyed with an electric chemistry that sizzled between us, dancing precariously on the edge of a dangerous cliff. With excitement and alcohol thrumming in my veins, I felt propelled right back to that precipice at the sight of the beautiful Irishman. If his loosely cut mahogany curls and glinting brown eyes didn’t make a girl weak in the knees, his square-cut jawline and epic dimples were bound to strike a killing blow. And that was just his face. Bishop’s perfectly chiseled body would have made Michelangelo weep. Hell, I may have shed a tear or two thinking about him. Bishop, whose real name I’d learned was actually Ewan Bohanan, carried himself with a kind of easygoing confidence so potent it had its own gravitational pull. He was playful, intensely masculine, and devastatingly gorgeous. He was also here to take me home from my cousin’s place, and I was entirely too tipsy to behave. He grinned and leaned closer. “Yeah, but I do all sorts of things you shouldn’t.” I inched forward, looking up at him through my lashes. “Shame on you, Mr. Bohanan,” I purred. “Don’t you know this is the twenty-first century? Women can do anything men can do.” “Not sure your father would agree.” “Never stopped me before.” Lies. Dad had gotten in the way plenty over the years, but I was taking control now. I’d already started secretly searching for my own apartment. I had a whole list of Things Independent Women Do, and Bishop Bohanan suddenly looked like a perfect chance to tick off another item from the list. Have a crazy-hot one-night stand. This situation was ideal. Dad’s driver had dropped me off at Noemi’s before lunch, and I wouldn’t be expected home until dinner. Bishop was hot, unattached, and familiar enough that he wasn’t a total stranger. I couldn’t have asked for a better setup. The direction of my thoughts must have shown on my face because his smile evaporated and was replaced with something dark and lusty. “I think it’s time to get you home before things get carried away.” His voice dropped to a gravelly rumble that stoked a heat deep in my belly. My breathing hitched, drawing his eyes to my lips. With a tortured groan, he spun me toward the building entrance. “Start walking, and don’t look at me like that.” Temptation gnawed at his self-control. Good. I liked the idea of Bishop mindless with need, unable to think clearly. I reluctantly obliged, one of his hands pressing me forward like a gun at my back. A smirk teased at my lips as he led me to a bright-yellow Mustang that suited his vibrant personality perfectly. “Your car is gorgeous.” “Thanks. You’re not going to throw up in it, are you?” I shot a glare at him over my shoulder. “If you don’t know the difference between tipsy and trashed, maybe I misjudged you.” I turned and leaned against his car, facing him with a challenging stare. “I’m exactly who you think I am.” His drastic shift