Sinner (Shelter Harbor #1)

by Aubrey Irons

  I can still feel her slickness on my hand, my cock still throbbing hard as she quickly buttons up her shirt, tucking it back into her skirt.

  “Thank you, for, um.” Her lips twist.

  “For making you come?”

  She blushes bright red. “For the lesson.”

  “Any time. So, this is just a practice thing?”

  She nods. “Uh-huh.”

  “And you’re okay with that.”

  She shrugs. “Yeah, of course.”

  Of course.

  Like Evangeline Ellis practicing getting fingered to a knee-shaking orgasm with a guy like me is some sort of normalcy for her. She’s trying to play it cool, but that wild look in her eyes and that hitch in her voice says otherwise.

  I might want more, but I also want to make sure she’s okay.

  “You want a ride or anything?”

  She shakes her head. “Nope! I’m okay.”

  She pauses, and we look at each other for a second before she stands up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.

  Chaste.

  Quick.

  Pure.

  The opposite of the gasping orgasm she just had with her pussy clenching tight around my fingers.

  She ducks under the bar and moves across the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  I nod. “Walk safe.”

  She turns at the door, her eyes flashing that fire just once more before she blushes. “Goodnight,” she says quietly. And then she’s out, the door clicking shut behind her.

  This is a problem.

  Messing with Eva was one thing.

  Indulging the filthy, dirty side of me that wanted to take her purity and be her first?

  That was all one thing.

  But now I’ve had a tease. I’ve tasted the forbidden fruit.

  And fuck if don’t want another bite.

  Chapter Twenty

  Evangeline

  “Forgive me father, for I have sinned and I need absolution and penance.”

  The man on the other side of the screen clears his throat. “Oh, well, we just do confessions here, my dear.”

  “Oh, right.” I toy with my fingers, looking down at the floor of the confessional booth at Holy Trinity Church in Chatwick, the next town over from Shelter Harbor.

  “Are you a Catholic, my child?”

  “Grace Church of Salvation and Divine Retribution”.

  There’s a pause.

  “It’s, um, sort of Protestant.”

  And sort of Seventh-Day Adventists, and also sort of out there, if we’re being honest.

  “Ahh, well then.”

  I continue to toy with my fingers. “We do absolutions and cleanses of the soul.”

  “I see.” The priest chuckles softly. “Well that’s fine, I suppose. Are you okay if we do the confessional version I’m familiar with?”

  “Please,” I say quietly, looking back at my toying fingers and the floor.

  “Well, why don’t we start with how long it’s been since your last confession. Or absolution.”

  He sounds older, grandfatherly, his voice both soothing and confident.

  “Two weeks since my last soul cleanse.”

  “I see,” he says softly. “And what would you like to confess here today?”

  “Sin.”

  The word is ice on my lips — a bitter taste lingering in my mouth.

  The priest clears his throat again. “It’s good to clear ourselves of our mistakes and our guilt, which is why we have confession. Any sin in particular, my dear?”

  “Carnal.” My face blushes as I cringe at the word.

  I know he can’t see me. I know the whole point of this is anonymity. I know I’m not even from around here, but it’s still mortifying to say out loud.

  “I see,” he says with a sagely voice.

  “I was with a man I shouldn’t have been with. Out of wedlock,” I say miserably.

  The priest is quiet for a moment before he speaks. “For what it’s worth, we here at First Trinity take a perhaps more modernist view of the Holy Word. We don’t feel, for instance, that sex before marriage is inherently a sin. However,” he pauses again. “However, it’s my path to counsel you, and bring you abatement from whatever sin is weighing you down. And if having intercourse with this man has caused you-”

  “Oh, no, we didn’t have intercourse.”

  I cringe again at the word.

  “We-” my face blushes as I stammer. “I mean, we-”

  “I don’t need the details,” the priest says with a chuckle. “However, again, if it’s weighing you down, I’m here to help you with that.”

  “Thank you. I- he’s not-” I stop and take a shaky breath. “He’s not someone I should be with.”

  “Is he a wicked man?”

  I bite my lip. “No.”

  “Married?”

  I laugh. “No, not like that.”

  “Does he hurt you?”

  “Oh, no, he’s just…I shouldn’t be with him.”

  “And you’re worried that God frowns on you being with this man.”

  “Yes.”

  Being with.

  As in, “letting Rowan Hammond slide his fingers inside of me and make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

  Making me… come like that.

  So dirty, so, sinful, so just not okay.

  “It’s my personal opinion, my child, that no God would get mad at two of his children willingly choosing to be with each other. But, to your end, I do absolve you of your sins.”

  My shoulders sag as I let what feels like a breath I’ve been holding for a whole day come whooshing out.

  “Trust your heart, my dear. And there you will find the moral way and God’s love.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  I stand on shaky legs and step out of the dark confessional booth.

  And for a minute, I do feel better. For a minute, I feel like maybe I’ve put this behind me and gone back to the light.

  It only lasts a minute though. Because it’s barely a minute before I’m right back to thinking of the night before, and what we did. And suddenly, I don’t feel absolved at all.

  I feel even more confused.

  It’s been three days after the incident, as I’m choosing to call it, and I’ve decided the best course of action is to avoid him. After all, I wasn’t like this before I came here. I wasn’t wicked, and full of sinful thoughts and desires before meeting him. Avoiding him should fix that. This whole absurd idea to have him teach me — I shiver.

  No.

  No more of that, thank you very much. That’s me being weak, and giving in to temptation. That’s an excuse to sin and feel like I can absolve myself of it by saying it’s towards a good end.

  It’s not.

  It’s just me wanting him.

  Which is why I decide the best action here is to remove myself entirely from his presence, until I can go back to me.

  The normal me.

  The me that respects her father. The me who doesn’t lie, or sneak out at night, or drink alcohol, or have horrible, dirty thoughts about the sinful man from the bar.

  Nope, I’m done with that version of me.

  Rowan is absent from the job site for three days — three merciful days where I can breath — where I can try and forget the insanity of that night with him.

  It doesn’t work very well, but it’s a start.

  “Are you excited for Milton to be here in two days?”

  I blink away my thoughts as I turn back to Chastity. “Two days?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Have you seriously forgotten that?”

  “Yeah, wow, I guess I have.”

  “Eva, he’s your fiancé.”

  “Well, not yet. I mean, not technically.”

  “Your father picked him, he might as well be.” Chastity sighs. “You’re so lucky, Eva.”

  “Yeah…” I look at the heap of donation clothes in front of me. “Yeah, lucky.”

  God, he’s coming in two d
ays? Two days from now, I need to shake off this Rowan specter and get him off of my mind. The proper thing — the good, Godly thing — is to forget him and think ahead to Milton.

  My future husband.

  The church man, the community member. The older, been-married-before stranger I don’t even know.

  I stare at the pile of donation clothes that Chastity and I are sorting through, dazing out.

  “Hey, Eva!” I glance up to see Sierra, Rowan’s little sister, smiling as she walks over.

  “Oh, hey!”

  “Hi, Chastity!”

  “Hello,” Chastity says coolly, raising a judgmental eye at Sierra’s leggings.

  “What are you guys up to?”

  “Sorting clothing donations.”

  “Want some help? I came out for the weekend from school.” She sighs. “I need a break.”

  “How’s grad school?”

  “Hard.” She laughs. “It’s good, but really, really hard. Really busy.”

  “In Boston, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s an amazing city, I just…well, I think I’m a Shelter Harbor girl at heart.”

  “It’s a beautiful town.”

  She grins. “It’s full of surprises. Here, let me give you guys a hand.”

  She drops her bag behind her and rolls her sleeves up.

  “Winter wear over here, and stuff that’s too beat up to use goes there,” Chastity says, still coolly appraising Sierra with disdain for whatever reason.

  I don’t try too hard to understand Chastity.

  “Hey, what are you girls doing tonight?”

  “Doing tonight?” Chastity says icily. “Having supper? Going to bed?”

  “Aww c’mon, it’s Friday! Don’t you guys want to explore the town? See the nightlife?”

  Chastity’s face sours. “I- we don’t do nightlife.”

  I shrug. “I could do the nightlife.”

  “Eva!” she hisses.

  “Oh, nothing crazy, Chastity, I swear. There’s a band a guy I know plays in having a show at this spot down on Market Street. You guys should come! It’ll be fun!”

  Fun.

  I could do fun.

  “Is-” I hastily bite back the words I was about to say and switch gears. “Is anyone else coming?”

  She looks at me for half a second, and for half a second, I’m terrified I’ve given myself away.

  “Nope!” she says with a smile. “Just us girls.”

  “At a bar?”

  Sierra smiles. “You seriously don’t have to be uncomfortable, Chastity. I mean we’re all twenty-one, and you don’t have to drink anyways.” She elbows the two of us. “C’mon! Have a little fun!”

  I don’t do this. I never do this.

  Screw it.

  “I’d love to!” I say with s smile. I glance back at Chastity, her face still pinched. “We’d love to.”

  “Great!” Sierra beams at me. ‘Should we just meet there? It’s walking distance from your house.” She suddenly pulls her phone out. “Oh, shoot. Sorry, here I was offering to help you guys here but I forgot I promised my mom I’d help her with some fall cleaning projects. I’ll see you guys tonight?”

  “Sounds good!”

  “Excellent! I’ll see you then. Oh and Eva?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Rowan wanted to see if you could give him a hand over at the parking lot.”

  I freeze.

  “He’s here?” I squeak.

  “Yeah, the dummy gave me a ride here. I think he’s probably just looking for help carrying something.”

  “Oh, okay?”

  Sierra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he’s annoyingly vague like that. Try growing up with him. Anyways, see you tonight!”

  “Yeah,” I say distantly. “See you.”

  “What do you want?”

  He turns, grinning. “Well, well.”

  “I’m very busy with work, what do you need?”

  He grins. “Need?”

  My cheeks blush. “Sierra said you needed something? That you wanted me to help you with something?”

  He laughs. “Oh, yeah, no, that was a lie.”

  I stiffen. “Really.”

  “Truly. I just wanted to check a theory.” He steps towards me, moving quite close, and I swallow quickly.

  “What theory.”

  “If you’d always come when I tell you to.”

  My face burns hot like the sun as I quickly glance over my shoulder as if someone’s lurking there, listening.

  I whirl back at him. “That was a mistake.”

  “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

  “Yes, because it was. I- that was wrong.”

  “Did it feel wrong?”

  I don’t answer him and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “I have a fiancé!” I hiss.

  “Yeah? What’s his middle name?”

  “I-” I frown. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t have a fiancé, and you don’t want one.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “No, you don’t,” he growls in my ear.

  I shiver.

  “You don’t know what I want.”

  “Yeah, angel, I do,” he whispers.

  “No you-”

  “You want these fingers,” he holds his hand up, his eyes burning into me, “right back here.”

  I gasp as his hand slides between my legs, boldly cupping my jeans over the place where my legs meet.

  “Rowan!”

  “Yes?” he purrs. He rubs his hand across the seam of my jeans, and I moan.

  Oh, God.

  “Stop it,” I hiss.

  “Sure about that?”

  He rubs harder, and my legs go weak.

  “I-” I whimper, my eyes closing for second before snapping back open.

  “Yes.” I swallow the heat from my face. “Yes, I am.” I shove his hand away, stepping away from him. “We can’t do that here.”

  “What about somewhere else later then.”

  I bite my lip, dragging my teeth across it. “My fiancé is coming in two days.”

  “Not your fiancé, but wonderful. Are we throwing him a welcome party?”

  “No we aren’t doing anything of the sort.”

  He grins. “So, about later.”

  “Not happening.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going out.”

  His brows shoot up. “Oh?”

  “Yes.”

  “You?”

  “Is that so hard to imagine?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, I am. With Chastity and Sierra.”

  He laughs. “My sister is taking you and Chastity out? Yikes.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I hope Chastity can hold her whiskey.”

  I grin in spite of myself before I shake it from my face. “I can’t meet you later, Rowan. Not tonight, and not anymore.”

  “We’ll see,” he says with a smug smile on his face.

  “I’m serious.”

  He steps closer. “Yeah?”

  “Mhmm,” I whisper.

  His hand slides over my hip.

  I let him.

  He pulls me closer to him, and I let him do that too.

  Because I want him to. Because I want him.

  What are you doing?

  I pull away from him suddenly.

  “I have to go,” I say quickly.

  “Well maybe I’ll see you later.”

  I shake my head, unable to form words as I turn and walk away, forcing my feet to move in front of each other.

  “Trust your heart, my dear. And there you will find the moral way and God’s love.”

  It should be great advice, except for one small detail.

  I can’t trust my heart, apparently. Because my heart is doing everything in its power to lead me astray, and to lead me down the path of wickedness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Evange
line

  “We shouldn’t be here.”

  I roll my eyes as I turn back to Chastity.

  “Chas, relax, it’s fine.”

  “Fine?” she squeaks, glancing around at the rock posters plastering the dark walls of the venue. Two guys in tight black t-shirts and tight jeans walk past carrying beers, beers that splash as they jostle each other and laugh.

  Chastity gasps, taking a step behind me.

  “Chastity, honestly.”

  “Eva!” she snaps. “This place is wicked.”

  “It’s just a little less polished than church.”

  Church, which Chastity is dressed for. An ankle length skirt, a blouse buttoned to the frilled collar, and a cardigan sweater to top it all off. I actually can’t knock the outfit too hard — I do own like four versions of it if we’re being honest.

  “We should go.”

  “It’s going to be fine!”

  “I don’t even see Sierra.”

  “Hey!”

  Thank God.

  I smile as she runs up. “Hi!”

  “You guys made it!” Sierra’s in skinny jeans and a black leather jacket, looking as cool as I wish I could dress. I’ve got jeans, though mine don’t fit nearly as good as hers. And a long-sleeved shirt.

  That’s me dressing up to go out, apparently — Mom jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

  Yikes.

  I notice Chastity glaring at the beer in Sierra’s hand.

  “Should we go in?” Sierra nods her head. “They’re going to start soon!”

  “Yeah, sure! Let’s get a drink!”

  Both of them look at me and I shrug. “What? We aren’t in church.”

  Sierra laughs. “Right you are, c’mon.”

  She tugs my hand, pulling me along.

  “C’mon!” I say to Chastity dragging her along after us.

  Five minutes later, we stand in the dark crowd, waiting in anticipation for Sierra’s friend’s band to start. The beer is cold in my hands, and Rowan’s right — it probably isn’t my drink. But I need something to make me look like less of a dork on a church retreat and more like the cool type who goes to rock concerts.

  That and I was too intimidated to ask the tattooed guy behind the bar to make me a margarita with salt.

  The band takes the stage as the crowd starts cheering. I can feel my heart pounding with excitement, as if I’m the one about to play for a crowd of strangers. But nevertheless, all my senses go on overdrive as I gleefully take in the room.