Weekend of Sin: A Forbidden Romance

By S.E. Law and S.C. Adams

Janelle: My ex is a total loser. During a weekend getaway at my friend’s cabin, he throws a fit and ditches me even though I’m handcuffed in my birthday suit, with a toy still jammed inside my sweetest spot. Then, the owner of the cabin shows up unexpectedly.

Oh no!

It’s not hunting season! My friend’s dad isn’t supposed to be here!

But Kurt Crenshaw catches me in the most compromising position ever. Panic fills my veins even as my thighs squeeze together with heat. Is the alpha male angry?

Hell no. If anything, Mr. Crenshaw likes what he sees, and soon he’s popped the handcuffs and popped something else too.

But what happens when I leave the cabin with Kurt’s baby in my belly? Will we become a family, or was this merely a weekend of sin?

This is a follow-up to My Lover, My Stalker. Janelle’s story has an adventurous plot with twists and turns that you won’t believe. It’s crazy … it’s off the reservation … but it’s also super fun and filthy! Hold on to your hats because otherwise, they’ll be flying off after reading this book. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.E. Law Romance Author
• Release date: Oct 18, 2022

Book preview

1

Janelle

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Isigh as I readjust myself in my seat, pulling my skirt down self-consciously as it rides up my thighs. I smooth out the pretty, pastel blue sweater that I’ve decided to wear for my date tonight and hope my boyfriend appreciates the way it clings to my curves, even if it’s a little itchy.

After all, Vinnie and I agreed to meet up here at our usual restaurant, The Peach Tree, for a nice dinner. It’s not my favorite place, but it’s okay. It’s better than some of the other restaurants in Millbrook at least, with cloths on the table and actual silverware instead of plastic utensils. The food is decent and the restaurant itself is nice with music piped in from hidden speakers and ambient lighting. It’s nothing too fancy, don’t get me wrong, but it’s nothing too shabby either. Plus, we come here a lot because of the prices. My boyfriend makes good money as an optometrist, but as he always says, how can you say no to bottomless salad and unlimited breadsticks? I just wish Vinnie wouldn’t ask me to steal the breadsticks by putting them in my purse. That always makes me feel so self-conscious, and I don’t want to get caught by the waitstaff.

Speaking of which, where is my afore-mentioned boyfriend at the moment? My fingers are practically itching to text him as I glance down at my phone. We were supposed to meet here at seven o’clock and now it’s seven-thirty. Yet he’s nowhere to be found. I know I shouldn’t be surprised because he’s always late, and I let out an exasperated sigh. Then again, I reprimand myself, Vinnie is busy at work, after all. He’s a licensed optometrist, and without him, a lot of people in our town wouldn’t be able to see.

Still, I really want to ask where he is, and my fingers itch. But I control myself because I know better than to ask. Last time he was running late, I sent him a few text messages just to keep in touch, but he told me not to blow up his phone like that because it only slowed him down more. Plus, when he finally arrived at the restaurant, he had an annoyed expression and said that I wouldn’t understand and that as a doctor, he’s got pressing responsibilities.

After that, I learned to keep my mouth shut. Although let’s be honest, I know there are no emergencies because Vinnie and I work at the same place. Maybe I just work retail at Four Eyes, but still, I know what the customer flow is like. Sure, things get a little off-schedule on occasion, but this isn’t exactly a high-stress job. So Vinnie’s pressing responsibilities are a little exaggerated.

But now, it’s been thirty minutes and it’s seriously getting ridiculous. I huff, annoyed. I always show up on time and yet Vinnie can’t return the favor. Instead, he always keeps me waiting and then shows up whenever he feels like it. How can our relationship be so lopsided?

I pick up my phone and start typing out a text message, but just before I can hit send, I suddenly hear his voice over the quiet murmuring of the other guests. When I look up, I see my boyfriend standing beside the giggling hostess, laughing with his head thrown back. What he could have possibly said that was so hilarious? I watch with narrowed eyes and pursed lips as he winks at her, and damn, he resembles a low-level henchman from a mafia film.

I’m sorry sir. I can see the hostess’s cheeks turning pinker and pinker by the second. I didn’t mean to say that out loud, I just—well, you must be very busy as a doctor!

It’s no problem, hon. Then, Vinnie grins. And please, call me Dr. Tucci. Speaking of which, I guess I forgot to take this off, he says, shrugging out of his white lab coat. You know, work was just so busy today and I sometimes forget to change. He feigns embarrassment as he slowly takes off the long white coat in almost cinematic slow-mo, and I roll my eyes as the hostess practically squeals.

Wow, you must be such an important doctor! Thank you for your service, Dr. Tucci.

I want to jump up and scream, "No, he’s an optometrist, not a medical doctor. Not the kind of doctor who’s been on-call 24/7 due to the pandemic. There’s a difference!" But of course, Vinnie doesn’t say anything and lets her continue to fawn.

No problem, honey. I don’t mind making the sacrifice for my country, and really, the people of the world.

Oh my! the hostess sighs, practically melting by now. I mean, I’ve always had so much respect for doctors. You guys save so many lives every single day. Again, thank you Dr. Tucci, she gushes.

I try to contain my unladylike snort because please, girl. Vinnie has saved someone from a bad case of dry eye at best. Meanwhile, my boyfriend continues to preen.

Thank you, sweetheart. That means a lot because it’s a difficult job but hearing people say things like that makes it all worth it, he smiles. Then, Vinnie looks around for a few moments before his eyes finally land on me. With a small sigh, he sends her an apologetic smile before beginning to make his way over toward our usual table. If you’ll excuse me, my dinner companion is waiting.

He wends his way to where I wait, his thin, reedy form clad in a too-big suit. I put on a small smile and try to pretend that I didn’t just witness any of that.

Hey baby, how are you? I ask. Meanwhile, Vinnie snaps his finger to get the attention of a server as he sits down.

I’m okay, he sighs. So hungry though! It’s been a long day.

I nod, feigning sympathy. At that moment, the waiter appears, and Vinnie nods.

"I’ll have the garden vegetable pasta, please. Please make sure the pasta’s cooked to perfection because sometimes it comes out dry and hard. And I’d like gluten-free pasta, actually, because it settles better on my stomach. And instead of basil, I’d like parsley. No zucchini—I hate zucchini—just put extra squash in the pasta. Did you hear that? I said extra squash. There should be plenty in there to replace the zucchini. Don’t be stingy! And last, no onion. I’m allergic to that stuff and I’ll probably go into anaphylactic shock if I even consume a tiny sliver of it."

Of course sir, the waiter murmurs before turning to look at me. I wear an embarrassed smile as I nod.

I’ll just have the chicken cutlet with mashed potatoes. Thank you so much—

But then Vinnie cuts me off with a frown. His eyes land on my stomach and stay there long enough for me to start squirming uncomfortably while trying to suck it in. I already know what he’s