Author/Uploaded by Elle Thorpe
UNHOLY SINS SAINT VIEW STRIP #2 ELLE THORPE ELLE THORPE PTY LTD Copyright © 2023 by Elle Thorpe All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Editing by Studio ENP Proofreading...
UNHOLY SINS SAINT VIEW STRIP #2 ELLE THORPE ELLE THORPE PTY LTD Copyright © 2023 by Elle Thorpe All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Editing by Studio ENP Proofreading by Barren Acres Editing Cover photography by Wander Aguiar Cover model: Soj For Louise, For all the years of beta reads and helping to make my books the best they can be. CONTENTS Prologue 1. Lyric 2. Zeph 3. Lyric 4. Zeph 5. Zeph 6. Lyric 7. Zeph 8. Zeph 9. Zeph 10. Lyric 11. Eve 12. Lyric 13. Zeph 14. Lyric 15. Lyric 16. Zeph 17. Lyric 18. Augie 19. Zeph 20. Lyric 21. Zeph 22. Lyric 23. Zeph 24. Lyric 25. Lyric 26. Lyric 27. Zeph 28. Lyric 29. Zeph 30. Lyric 31. Zeph 32. Zeph 33. Lyric 34. Zeph 35. Lyric 36. Lyric Epilogue What’s new at www.ellethorpe.com Also by Elle Thorpe Acknowledgments About the Author PROLOGUE ZEPH I could still hear her cries as the girl fell on her knees in the confessional booth. The agony in her voice while she confessed and repented for being a sexual temptation. The grinding of my molars and the crack of my knuckles when I forced myself to remain seated and murmur scripted words of forgiveness. With my words, I’d forgiven a sin that wasn’t hers but instead belonged to the man who lay sleeping peacefully in his bed in front of me now. Blissfully ignorant of the trauma he’d caused. 1 LYRIC “How much for a private dance?” I dropped into a squat, spreading my knees wide, winding my hips provocatively in time with the beat of the music. Scooping up the few bills that had been thrown onto the stage, I considered the man’s request. It was late. Or rather, early. We’d close the club at five when the sun started its morning rise, so there were only thirty minutes until my shift was over. I was tired. My feet hurt from wearing impossibly tall heels for hours. I wanted to