Sinner (Shelter Harbor #1)

by Aubrey Irons

  I slam the office door shut behind me.

  Fuck.

  My hands slide up my face and through my hair as I take a deep breath, glancing at the heap of paperwork on my desk.

  Fiona sitting at my bar trying to flash her tits at me is the last thing I need right now. It’s just fuel dumped on the fire already raging inside of me at the thought of Eva out with fucking Milton. Because however fake, however forced, and however eighteenth century an arrangement it is, that man is going to be her husband.

  That guy is going to be the one who gets to taste those sweet lips, see those eyes flash at him, see that smile every morning.

  I roll my eyes at myself. Good God, who am I? I want to look at it in terms of just the sex — that he’s the guy that gets to take her for the first time — the guy that gets to claim that part of her. Except that’s a caveman way of looking at it, and for some bizarre reason, I’m looking at it as more than that.

  I’m looking at her as more than that.

  Forget him being the guy that gets to sleep with her, he’s the fucking guy that gets to have her. HER, as in her heart and that infectious way she makes me grin when I’m around her.

  I groan. What I need to do right now is get my shit together. What I need to do is go back out there, close the bar, take Fiona upstairs, and fuck the Evangeline right out of my head.

  I need to-

  The door opens behind me, and I know it’s her before she even opens her mouth.

  “I need to complain about the service here?”

  I bring a hand up to the bridge of my nose, still faced away from her.

  “Fiona-”

  “I wanted another drink but my bartender was nowhere to be found. And really, I think I’ve got a big problem with this whole no shirt, no service thing.”

  “Lay off, Fiona, I’ve got shit to do.”

  I turn.

  I know I shouldn’t but I do.

  And it’s just in time to watch as Fiona reaches down, grabs her tank top, and peels it up and over her head, revealing her big, fake, braless tits to me.

  “Jesus, Fi,” I mutter.

  The bell above the front door dings.

  “I need to go, that’s a customer.”

  “More important than me?” She pouts.

  “Yes.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh c’mon, Row! You know how much fun we can have. Why don’t you come say hi to them for old times sake,” she says, grinning at her tits.

  “Fiona, I need to go.”

  “Rowan, are you-”

  Eva freezes in the doorway behind Fiona, and my heart drops as I watch her face fall.

  “Oh- I-” Her eyes dart to me, then to Fiona’s naked back.

  Fiona giggles, covering herself barely and half turning to Eva. “Sorry, honey, I think I’ve got the bartender’s attention.”

  “I-” Eva’s face falls. “Sorry.”

  And then she’s whirling on her feet and running back through the bar.

  Fuck.

  “Eva!” I call, but she’s gone, the bell chiming again as she runs out the front door.

  “Goddamnit,” I swear, striding for the door. I grab Fiona roughly by the arm, dragging her with me.

  “Oooh, Rowan, get rough with me, baby.”

  “Put your fucking shirt on.”

  She frowns. “What?”

  “Put. Your. Fucking. Shirt. On!” I roar, dragging her through the bar.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Does it look like I’m fucking kidding?”

  She glares at me, her eyes lancing fire. “You’re saying no to this?”

  “Kinda looks that way doesn’t it.”

  “What are you, a faggot, Rowan?”

  “Just not really interested in Jeff’s fucking seconds anymore, Fiona.”

  She glares at me before she yanks her shirt on and snatches her purse off the bar.

  “Fuck you, Rowan.”

  “No thanks, Fi.”

  She flips me off as she storms for the front door. “I’m not paying for that drink you prick!”

  The door slams behind her, and I’m bolting it, flipping the sign to “Closed”, turning off the neon sign, and running for the back door a second later.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Evangeline

  I will not cry.

  I won’t. I won’t let myself. Just the same, something stings my eyes as I squeeze them shut and shake my head while I storm back to the rental house.

  What was I even thinking going here tonight? What, comfort? Solace?

  Ridiculous.

  He’s every bit the disgusting, moral-less sinner I always knew he was. And I hate that I was thinking differently about it. I hate how giddy I got walking up to that bar tonight.

  How anxious I was.

  How much desire I had in my body for him. How much I craved his wicked touch.

  How wet I was.

  My cheeks burn but I shake it away as I storm up the street. Forget Rowan Hammond and our absurd “lessons”.

  Disgusting, perverted, sinful lessons.

  Letting a man like that put his hands on me — no matter how good it feels — is not worth the shame, or the horrible feeling in my chest right now.

  There’s the roaring sound of a motorcycle right before I turn the corner to the rental house. The bike comes screaming up, screeching to stop a few feet in front of me.

  Rowan gets off, kicking the stand down viciously and yanking the keys out before he storms towards me.

  “Leave me alone, please.”

  I go to shove past him, but he grabs my arm, spinning me back to him.

  “Hang on.”

  “What,” I spit.

  “’What’ is you’re doing an awful lot of walking away for a girl who just came to me at the bar.”

  I sneer at him. “Yeah well, it seems you were busy.”

  “I wasn’t, trust me.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.”

  He narrows his eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, please,” I roll my eyes. “I’m not that naive.”

  “She’s engaged.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Sounds like just your type.”

  “Goddamnit, Eva-”

  “What do you want from me, Rowan? Permission?”

  “I want you to stop looking at me like I’m offending you.”

  “You’re not offending me, because I just don’t care.”

  “Pretty big scowl for a girl who doesn’t care.”

  I shake his arm off and storm past him without answering. I make it four whole paces, to the back gate of the yard before he catches up, his hand on my arm again. “Eva-”

  “Stop it,” I hiss, turning on him.

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “Oh do whatever you want,” I throw at him. “Go play with your…whatever that girl is.”

  “She’s nothing.”

  “It makes no difference to me.”

  “Thought we’d established that lying was a sin.”

  “I’m not into you, you know.”

  “No?” His eyes narrow at me. “I thought you were pretty into me when my mouth was on your pussy earlier.”

  My face goes bright red as my jaw drops. The heat blooms in my body, traitorously, lip-bitingly hot as it courses like lead through me.

  “You’re disgusting,” I say quietly, stepping back from him until my back touches the garage wall.

  “And you’re wet, aren’t you.”

  My jaw drops. “You’re filthy.”

  “And you love it,” he husks, moving towards me. My eyes go wide.

  “I bet your pussy-”

  “Don’t call it that.”

  He grins. “What, your vagina?”

  My nose wrinkles. “Eww, just-”

  He moves right against me, taking the breath and the words from my mouth. “Your pussy is soaking wet for me right now, isn’t it.”

  I swallow thickly, blinking as my breath catches
somewhere in my throat.

  “And you’re just dying to feel my mouth on it again.”

  “I am not,” I whisper.

  “And there you go lying again.”

  “No.” I shake my head, my eyes locked on his and feeling every nerve in my body craving him.

  Wanting him.

  Needing him, and the release and the escape and the something so deliciously bad that he brings with him.

  “I thought you were the one lecturing me about lying being a sin.”

  “It is,” I say softly.

  “Well.” Rowan leans close, his body pressing to mine, and his lips brushing my earlobe.

  I gasp.

  “Since you’re already sinning, think we can probably come up with a much more fun way to do it other than lying?”

  “I-” I gasp, blinking up at him. “Yes.”

  I moan as his lips fasten on my neck, his hands going to my waist. I whimper as he pulls the shirt from my skirt, his rough hands moving over the smooth skin of my hips, my belly.

  “Yes,” I whimper again, pulling him into me, clawing at his shirt. His mouth moves to mine, claiming the moan from my lips, drawing the gasp from my throat.

  My hands move to his hair, pulling him closer, needing him to consume me, to take me, to give me everything I know the future with Milton won’t hold.

  “Row,” I gasp, pulling away.

  I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to tell him I want the dirty, filthy things he promises me.

  I just need them.

  “I-”

  “Shhh,” he growls, his mouth dropping to my collarbone, sucking the skin there and making me gasp before he suddenly drops to his knees in front of me.

  “What are you-”

  His hand skims up my legs, pushing my skirt high up until my panties are exposed to his eyes.

  I whimper.

  His hand slips over the front of them, teasing me, drawing the moan from my lips and making the wet heat only grow there between my legs.

  “I’ve been dying to taste you again ever since earlier.”

  I gasp as his hands find the edges of my panties, pulling them. They drop down my legs to my ankles, and he pulls them off of me, glancing up at me and grinning hungrily before he suddenly leans forward and kisses my thigh.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Better be quiet, angel.”

  I moan again, biting my lips as I glance down at him. His eyes meet mine, and he winks. He moves in and I almost lose my footing. His tongue — his wicked tongue — slips against me, dragging across my seam and making my knees shake as the feeling shudders through me. His hands slide over my hips to my butt, grabbing me tightly, growling as he pulls me tight against his mouth.

  His hand skims back down my leg to my knees, pulling it up and onto his shoulder. My fingers dig into his hair, steadying myself before gasping as his tongue slides deep inside of me.

  I moan, my hips rocking into him — wanting him, needing his mouth all over me. Needing the feeling from earlier, the wicked, amazing, heavenly feeling of his mouth.

  I gasp as his lips find my clit, his tongue moving in circles as I start to let go.

  As I start to shatter.

  His hands grab at my butt possessively, his mouth between my legs and his tongue pushing me higher and higher until I can’t stand it any longer.

  “I- Rowan! Oh, God!”

  He only groans into me, and the rumbling of his lust for me is the last sensation that pushes me over that edge into the sweet surrender.

  I come, hard — my fingers twisting in his hair and my legs shaking as I slump against the side of the garage.

  He’s ceaseless, tasting me, his tongue and his lips never leaving my clit as I buck against him and throw an arm over my mouth, gasping for air as the power roars through me.

  He pulls away, his lips kissing over my thighs again before he slowly stands.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper into his chest as he pulls me against him. “That was… holy…”

  “Told you you were into it.”

  I roll my eyes, blushing somehow even after what’s just happened.

  A light clicks on in the upstairs bathroom of the dark house, sending a quick jolt through me.

  “I need to go,” I whisper quickly, smoothing my skirt down and stepping away from him. I start to move to walk around the corner back to the house when I realize Rowan’s got my panties in his hand.

  “I need those.”

  He grins. “Oh, these?”

  My eyes dart to his, seeing the wicked smile on his face and feeling my own blush. “Yes.”

  “Oh, these.” He dangles them, grinning at me as we start to walk around the corner towards the back porch of the house.

  I shake my head, smiling. “Yes those-”

  We freeze.

  Because sitting there on the back porch steps, is Milton.

  Rowan quickly slips my underwear into his jacket pocket.

  “Oh!” I gasp, the color draining from my face my hand flying to my mouth.

  “Eva, hello.” Milton stands, his eyes moving to Rowan.

  Who grins.

  “You must be Milton.”

  Milton clears his throat. “I am,” he says stiffly, straightening his shoulders.

  I’m suddenly terrified of whatever’s about to happen here and desperately hoping Milton didn’t just hear what happened behind the garage.

  “Rowan Hammond.” Rowan sticks his hand out jovially.

  I cringe.

  The hand that’s just been all over me.

  The smile slowly dawns over Milton’s face. “Ahhh, yes! The minister’s son!”

  His eyes drop to Rowan’s very un-churchy tattoos peeking out from the sleeve of his leather jacket and from the neck of his t-shirt.

  “The very same.”

  Milton beams. “Well, a pleasure to meet you. Your father is doing wonderful work with Pastor Ellis on the Center. Truly God’s work.”

  “Oh, truly.” Rowan nods, sarcastic in a way thankfully I only pick up on.

  There’s a moment of silence.

  “I saw your fiancée here.” He elbows me, still standing here with my mouth open in shock. “Found her walking alone down by the waterfront and offered to walk her home safe and sound.”

  Milton smiles cheerily. “Well, that was very thoughtful of you!”

  “Oh, well.” Rowan grins, shrugging. “It’s a safe town, but you never know what sort of ruffians are about looking to put their hands on a pretty girl like this.”

  His hand — behind me and out of sight of Milton — immediately drops to my butt and squeezes me. I gasp before quickly shutting my mouth and shivering, his hand swooshing my skirt just enough to remind me that I’m not currently wearing any panties.

  I blush.

  “Listen, Eva…” Milton pauses. “If I may?” He glances meaningfully at Rowan, who clearly gets his drift and clearly doesn’t care.

  Milton coughs and turns back to me. “I, uh, I’ve just spoken with your father, who’s given his consent for the two of us to go out tomorrow.”

  Rowan whistles “Wow, now that?” He grins, shaking a finger at Milton. “Now that’s just class. You don’t see that a lot in today’s modern times. A man asking a father permission before having dinner with his fully grown adult daughter?”

  Rowan slips an arm over my shoulders, turning to smile while giving me a subtle roll of his eye.

  Milton beams. “Ah, well, I’m an old fashioned guy.”

  “Real old fashioned, huh?”

  Milton chuckles. “Guilty.”

  “Well then, I should be going.”

  I shoot him a look as he turns, his back just enough to Milton to flash the white cotton of my panties in his hand before he slips them back into his jacket pocket with a wink.

  A fever pulses through me.

  He turns back to the older man. “Milton, my friend, a pleasure to meet you.”

  “And you as well!”

  �
��You’ve got a peach of a fiancée here.”

  “Oh, well, thank you.”

  Rowan grins wickedly. “A real sweet peach.”

  My face grows hot.

  “Ahhh yes, well, as soon as I met her father, I knew I had to have her.”

  “Right, well, isn’t that just romance.” Rowan shoots me a look.

  “So, Eva? Tomorrow?” Milton smiles broadly at me. “Your father has given his permission.”

  I quickly clear my throat. “Uh, yes! Of course,” I say sweetly.

  He beams. “Well! Tomorrow it is, then! A pleasure to meet you, Rowan! Peace be with you.”

  “And with you.” Rowan smiles a plastic smile at Milton as he turns and walks away.

  “Give me those back,” I hiss as soon as Milton is out of the back gate and halfway down the block.

  “Nah.” Rowan grins, pulling my panties out of his pocket just enough to make my face hot all over again before stuffing them back in. “Besides, you should get to bed yourself. Sounds like you’ve got a big date tomorrow.”

  “You know I have to go on that.”

  “Of course you do. Can’t go against Daddy’s wishes, right?”

  I frown. “It’s not like that,” I hiss.

  “Oh, not at all. You’re just marrying an old guy because your dad says so.”

  “You’re old.”

  He snorts. “I’m not that old. And besides, that guy?” He moves close to me, and I gasp as his hand suddenly slips right underneath my skirt and runs over my bare thigh.

  “That guy doesn’t make you wet like I do,” he growls.

  “Rowan-” my voice catches as his hand slips between my legs and runs over me.

  I’m still wet, and I know he can tell.

  His finger strokes through my lips, making me gasp quietly, my hands moving to his shirt and clinging to him.

  Suddenly, his hand slips back from under my skirt.

  “Better get your rest for that date,” he growls. “Night, angel.”

  And then he’s gone.

  My heart pounds as I step into the house. I close the door behind me, turning towards the stairs, when the voice in the dark kitchen sends my heart jumping into my throat.

  “Where have you been?”

  I gasp, jumping a foot back at Chastity’s voice and bringing a hand to my heart.

  “Lord, Chastity!” I hiss. “You scared the crap out of me!”