“Oh.” Aunt Sam threw her arms around me. “Don’t you start. You’ll get Dani started again. She’s been a mess all day.”
“She’s right.” Dani stepped up to get her hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
And that was the beginning of a whole ‘nother round of hugs.
Later, we were lying in bed—Dad gave us permission this once—Zack told me he even spoke to Nick and, in his words, “managed to not slug him.” He said they’re planning on trying to be friends again, even though it’ll be awkward at first.
Our fingers were entwined, and I held my hand up to look at the gorgeous ring he gave me.
“You’re sure you like it?”
“I love it. And the proposal was on point. It wouldn’t have been any better if I wrote it myself.”
“Good.”
“Way better than Dad’s proposal to Dani.” We laughed. I always ribbed Dad about it. I turned on my side to face Zack, and he flipped to mirror me. Light filtered in, my filmy curtains doing nothing to block the streetlamps. “You’ve really got it, Issaacs.”
He stroked my face. “Yes. And this time I’m keeping it.”
Before You Go…
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SIN WORTH THE PENANCE
SIN WORTH THE PENANCE
The Devilish Divas Series, Book Six
“Killian?” My Aunt Deidre glanced over from her pour. “Be a love and fetch me a bottle of Jameson’s from the pantry, would ya?” She was a sprite of a woman, in her late fifties, and as sweet as could be. But if her kids got her riled up, she could equally be a terror. I kept on her good side.
“Aye.” I turned to follow instructions.
“And, while you’re at it, a bottle of gin, as well.”
I nodded and crossed the room, noting a table that needed to be bussed along my way. Under the stairs leading to the rooms I rented above was a small stock room. I opened the door and felt along the inside wall for a switch, but could find none. I left the door open instead, thinking the light from the pub would be enough to illuminate a bottle of Jameson’s and some gin. I squinted in the murky interior as I searched the shelf in the back for the familiar green whiskey bottle.
Then, in a sweep, what little light there was disappeared. The door swung shut, and I was left in utter blackness. I could feel someone behind me and, by the alluring fragrance, a woman. She approached and encircled me in her arms, caressing the fronts of my thighs. I froze, completely caught unawares. Then she nibbled on my neck, her tongue gliding along my skin as she went. I’d been a widow for coming up on a year, and with no woman, but my body hadn’t forgotten what need was. Heat quivered through me.
A sultry voice broke the silence. “Guess who?”
I cleared my throat. “I haven’t a clue.”
She swatted my head. “Would you deny me, Murphey?”
My confusion deepened. It wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. She knew my name. An old flame? I listened more intently, trying to recognize the voice.
She leaned in, her mouth at my ear. “Ya weren’t denying me yesterday in your mother’s bedroom.”
Wait? What? Mother’s bedroom?
She continued to purr. “Or did you just want me to remind ya? Cuz I’ll gladly do that.”
Before I knew it, she’d slipped around in front of me, and lush lips covered mine, pulling me into a dizzying kiss. She used her hands on the sides of my face to guide her and, God help me, I knew I shouldn’t, but I responded. Her lips tasted of sin and sweet strawberries. But if she was a sin, she was a sin worth the penance, for sure.
I knew now that this woman was sorely confused, for I had been in no mother’s bedroom with her, except maybe in my dreams. I should pull away. I should straighten her out on just who she was kissin’. Instead, I weaved my fingers through silky tresses and hung on for dear life. But when she reached down me pants, I jumped, as did she. We both simultaneously exclaimed, “Oh, me Gawd!” mine a murmur of pleasure, hers a reaction of surprise.
She parted from me and the next thing I knew the door creaked open and light poured in. I spun to both find out who this vixen was, and apologize for not announcing myself more clearly. Blinking in the light, I put a hand up to block it, but all I saw was a head atumble with gorgeous, curly black-as-midnight hair and a tight ass—the likes of which I’d never seen before—in jeans. Feeling weak-kneed I felt behind me and sat on a crate.
What just happened? My brain had a hard time coming back to its normal senses. Was I kissed by an angel? Or perhaps the heavens were playing tricks on me for some reason?
Too late, I sprang to my feet and stuck me head out the door. And, although it was a wide open room with nowhere to hide, my phantom kisser was naught to be seen.
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Also by M.J. Schiller
The Devilish Divas Series
To Hell in a Coach Bag
Damned If I Do
The Devil You Know
Satan, Line One
Pitchfork in the Road
Sin Worth the Penance
About the Author
Bestselling author M.J. Schiller is a retired lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense, chick lit writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-three-year-old and three twenty-one-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.
mjschillerauthor.blogspot.com
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