by London Hale
Sinful Temptation
Selling Sin: An Opposites Attract Romance
London Hale
Copyright © 2017 by London Hale
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.
Sinful Temptation is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC
Cover Art © Brighton Walsh
Digital ISBN: 978-1-944336-31-8
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-944336-32-5
For inquiries, contact London Hale at [email protected]
ISBN: 978-1-944336-27-1
Dedicated to Joseph Mortimer Granville,
without whom hysterical paroxysm would be that much harder to achieve.
Contents
Sinful Temptation
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Sinful Attraction Sneak Peek
Sinful Attraction
Chapter 1
Did you miss the first book?
Daddy’s Best Friend
Chapter 1
The DILF Sneak Peek
The DILF
Chapter 1
Nanny With Benefits Sneak Peek
Nanny With Benefits
Chapter 1
Also by London Hale
About the Author
She’s too sinful to resist
I escaped my hometown the second I could, only to be brought back by my late grandmother’s will. The Christian bookstore and tea shop she bequeathed to me was the perfect place to open the island’s only adult toy store. Being across the street from a church is a bonus. Even better? The new to town, hot as sin pastor I’d love nothing more than to sully. Pastor Noah may be off-limits, but that won’t stop me from tempting him.
He could lose it all if he gives in
Sin is my greatest obsession and my congregation’s biggest distraction. Harper—the owner of the aptly named adult store—is too forward, too overtly sexual for such a quiet island town, which is why I can’t keep my eyes off her. One chance encounter, one moment of surrender, and my fate is sealed. No amount of praying will absolve me of these sins.
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Author’s Note
Included in this copy of Sinful Temptation are sneak peeks of the titles in our Experience Counts series: Daddy’s Best Friend, The DILF, and Nanny With Benefits, as well Sinful Attraction, the second books in our Selling Sin series. This means Sinful Temptation ends at approximately 70%, but rest assured it’s a satisfying story, complete with HEA.
Hope you enjoy them all, and thank you for reading!
I was used to the older women of my congregation gossiping after the Sunday services. What I wasn’t used to was making a wrong turn and practically falling right into those half-whispered conversations.
“It’s just obscene.”
Yup. Totally made a wrong turn.
“It is. Poor Prudence must be rolling over in her grave.”
“She sells dildos in there.”
My entire body flinched, my need to escape growing. I just had to disappear into the parking lot. It wasn’t too far. So long as they kept talking and didn’t notice me…
“Marge,” Norma hissed, rebuking the head of the ladies’ council.
“Oh, Norma. What? That’s what they are. They’re called dildos…fake penises. Am I right, Pastor Noah?”
Shit… I didn’t want to be involved in their discussion, but I couldn’t ignore them. No matter how much I wanted to.
“Well, Marge, I do believe you’re right. They’re called”—Lord, help me—“dildos.”
Marge, a well-rounded lady with hair as gray as a stormy sky, elbowed her friend and coconspirator. “See, Norma? That’s what she’s selling in there. Fake penises.”
I tried to leave them to it, to slip toward the little house on the far side of the church parking lot where I lived. Sadly, they turned as if to include me in their conversation about sex toys. I had a busy Sunday to get to—I had a few minutes to grab a quick lunch before Bible study began, then the grounds committee was turning over the flowerbeds for the season, and finally, the choir leader wanted a meeting to discuss hymn options for our Christmas season. My day was filled with church responsibilities. Tonight, like all nights, it seemed, was wide open. Empty. Except for my fantasies of her. Owner of the store they scorned. The one they shunned because she embraced her sexuality.
I’d really like to embrace her sexuality.
Marge huffed again. “If you ask me, the city council never should have let her have her business there. It’s just…wrong.”
I would have disagreed, but I’d learned early on not to argue with the old ladies in Marge’s clique. I really wished I would have avoided them altogether. Why had I chosen to come out the front entrance, again? Oh, right. Because of the adult toy store across the street. Well, the owner of the adult toy store across the street.
Norma hummed, pulling my attention from my current obsession. “I can’t believe she turned that nice tea shop into such a place.”
“It’s just so shameful,” Marge said for what had to be the hundredth time since I’d been called to this little church in Temperance Falls. Shameful, deviant, obscene, wrong—different words, same meaning behind them. There was a group of older ladies within my church who hated that the granddaughter of a deceased friend of theirs had taken a cozy, Christian bookstore and tea shop and turned it into…Sin.
“I’m not sure I understand why you allow her to park in our lot, Pastor Noah,” Norma said, on a roll as she had been the past few Sundays. “It just seems so…dirty.”
Dirty were the thoughts I had about the owner of the shop, Harper Davis. Thoughts of what she did late at night up in that apartment of hers above her store, of what she would—or wouldn’t—wear once the shades were drawn and she was alone. Thoughts of what I wanted to do to her if she could ever see me as more than just the neighborhood pastor. But I couldn’t tell the old ladies that.
“Miss Davis has no parking lot and can’t park on the street past ten. It would be callous of me not to allow her to park her car in our lot, seeing as she’s our neighbor and all. I wouldn’t want her to have to walk over to the community lot late at night.”
“But there are…pictures in that car. Naked pictures.”
All thoughts of staying calm and rational with my congregation flew out of my mind. Naked pictures? When I’d offered Harper a parking spot in the church lot, it had been with the understanding that she not leave any of her business paraphernalia in the car itself. I could hold off the blue-hairs on the basis of safety and concern for our neighbor, but only if she played by the rules.
�
��Naked pictures?”
“Go look. They’re all over the back seat.” Norma turned back to Marge, whispering about the devil and filth and more things than I wanted to deal with. I just wanted to eat a quick sandwich before I had to start the rest of my day. As was my usual Sunday morning routine, I’d gotten up at five to begin prep for the day. I was tired, cranky, and in need of one damned day where old ladies stopped complaining about Harper.
Still, to be a good leader of my congregation, I headed over to the car in question. The one I allowed to park in the side lot more for my own peace of mind than Harper’s. She had never asked for the spot; I’d offered it after watching her walk alone through the dark streets one evening. The thought of her out on a date was bad enough—the thought of her in danger when she was coming home from it was too much for me to deal with. I’d gone over to her shop the next morning and offered her parking privileges in the church lot. It was just the neighborly thing to do, after all.
The car windows glinted in the midday sun, and I had to shade my eyes to see inside. There were naked pictures, all right. Of men. A blue file folder sat on the back seat, its contents strewn across the seat and floor. Naked men. Posing. Oil-covered. Hard. They looked like some sort of advertisement for an upcoming event, dates and times written in white across the bottom. Didn’t matter. There were photos of naked men in her car.
My patience snapped.
I stormed across the street, ready to break. A sandwich. That was all I’d wanted. A simple sandwich. And now I had to deal with an affronted Marge, with Norma saying things like dildo, and naked men in the back seat of Harper’s car. The only naked man who should be in her back seat was me…even if she didn’t know that yet.
I yanked open the door to Sin just as someone else was exiting. Two someones. People I recognized.
“Pastor Noah.” Joshua Hutton—local doctor, widower, and single dad—gave me a smile that should have calmed my ire. Should have, but did not. “I gotta say, I wasn’t anticipating running into you here.”
I bit back the growl his words incited. Typical—I was a pastor and, therefore, asexual to the people around me.
His nanny, Bailey, a beautiful young woman I’d noticed looking at him with more than just employee respect, stood beside him. The two had a relaxed air about them, a certain body language that spoke of intimacy. Perhaps it was how close they stood, or the fact that she almost seemed to be leaning into his side. Whatever it was, that sense of more they exuded only pissed me off. I wanted that…always had.
Do not covet. Do not covet. Dammit, I was definitely coveting.
“Mr. Hutton. Miss Effingham.” I tried to nod, tried to control the anger in my voice. The irritation. The disappointment. “Please excuse me. I need to speak to—”
“Pastor No,” Harper called from deeper in the store, her voice causing my cock to come to life. The woman herself appeared, and I almost came right there on the spot. Dark, wavy hair set in some old pinup style, blue eyes that practically devoured everything she looked at, and lips… I could speak for hours on the glory of her thick, plush lips. Lips that were made for kissing, for biting…for fucking. Everything about her was a turn-on, every action, word, and look an invitation it seemed. And she knew it. “You just can’t stay away from Sin, can you?”
No, I couldn’t. Not when she was the one running it. Especially not when she was looking at me with that sly smile as if I hadn’t caught the double entendre of her words.
Still, there were people watching us. I had to play my part as the asexual pastor. No matter how much that was a lie.
“Miss Davis, I’ve asked you repeatedly to call me Noah. Like the rest of the congregation.”
Those lips of hers—painted a shiny burgundy today, which matched her blouse—quirked up in a smile that only made me move closer. “Ah, but I’m not part of your congregation, now am I?”
No. She wasn’t. But that wouldn’t stop me. Joshua and Bailey disappeared out the door, leaving me alone with Harper. In Sin.
“You have pictures of naked men in the back seat of your car. I’ve asked you not to leave your shop paraphernalia where the congregation can see it. Seeing anything related to sex”—fuck, just saying the word in such close proximity to her made me hard as stone—“upsets them.”
But Harper wasn’t one to be pushed around. Which was something I liked about her.
She waved a dismissive hand and rolled her eyes. “They’re just flyers. Those old biddies can’t handle anything. Seriously, when do you think any of them last got laid?”
Oh, for Chri—
“I can’t say I’ve ever thought about the sex lives of my congregation. Now, about those pictures—”
“That’s too bad,” she said, completely ignoring my concerns over the photos. Again. “It’s a game I like to play as I watch everyone walk by. You can tell a lot about people by their reaction to the shop, you know. And those harpies? I bet Nixon was in office the last time any of them got some action. I couldn’t imagine.”
Harper bit her lip, her eyes staring just off to the side as if in thought. As if truly contemplating the sex lives of women more than twice her age. She raised her hand, an almost unconscious act, and began running her fingers along her collarbone. Back and forth, back and forth.
I was fascinated.
The drape of her blouse hinted at the softness hidden underneath the fabric, the deep red color contrasting perfectly with her pale skin. Back and forth, back and forth—she kept me captivated. Hypnotized. Until all I could do was stare, all I could think of was where those fingers would go next. All I wanted…was to touch.
Those fingers broke me.
“And what about me?” I asked, still staring, hard as stone and aching for some sort of touch. Some sort of physical sensation from her. The lightest brush of her skin on mine would wreck me forever. I knew it. And still, I hungered for it.
“You?”
“Yes. What do you see when I walk by?”
She stalked closer, her loose-hipped gait making everything on her body sway. The woman was pure sex—all soft and sinful—and she knew it. Used it to her advantage when it suited her. She didn’t stop until she was right in front of me. Almost touching.
And then she touched.
She slowly raised her hand, almost defying the laws of time and space. It seemed to take hours for her to reach the collar of my shirt, the style I insisted on wearing every Sunday. A slight tickle at the front of my throat told me she’d made contact with my bow tie, and I’d never been more jealous of a piece of fabric.
“You work so hard to stay all buttoned up, don’t you?” she said, her voice low and sultry. “But is that who you really are? Or is it just a show you put on?” She inched ever closer, those high tits of hers brushing against my chest. Their firmness making me want to grab them, bite them, suck the tips until she begged for more.
When she was right up against me, rising up on the balls of her feet to bring her lips to my ear, when she had me completely under her spell, she whispered, “What would you be like out of this costume, Pastor No?”
Done. I was done. Forget holding back or being subtle. She wanted to tease me? Fine. I could tease right back. “Are you sure you’re ready to find out, Miss Davis?”
I took a step into her, one hand gripping her waist so she couldn’t retreat, unable to resist her for a second more. She followed suit, inching back even as I tracked her, looking me right in the eye as she laughed. Her reaction would have been insulting if it didn’t make my cock twitch.
“Oh, honey, I think we both know you wouldn’t want to take this for a spin on your first ride.”
I blinked. Twice. First what? So that’s what she thought of me—that I was some virgin preacher who had no idea what to do with a woman? That I was inexperienced, and she’d have to teach me a thing or two? I bet she could, even though I was far from virginal. This would be fun.
I leaned closer, letting my lips come right to the edge of her ear. Almost t
ouching her. And then I whispered, “Who said you’d be my first ride?”
She physically recoiled, staring up at me with those huge blue eyes that had haunted me from the moment we’d met. She gave me a solid once-over. Appraising me. Which was fine, because I was doing the same to her.
“What?” I asked with a shrug, taking another step closer to her. Practically grinning when she tried to take a step back. “Did you really think—”
A clock chimed, and Harper’s sultry smile reappeared, though it was a lot less sure at that point. “I think that’s your cue, Father.”
Stupid busy Sundays. I wasn’t ready to let her go, though. Not yet. Not now that I had her attention. Not now that I’d gotten my very first touch. “Do you have to wear blouses with such revealing necklines? It’s a distraction. And I’m not a virgin.”
“Yes. I do. I’ll wear whatever the hell I want. But it’s good to know you don’t approve. I’ll be sure to wear it more often.” She tugged her shirt a little lower, smoothing the silky fabric over her waist. Pulling it tight across her breasts. “And you might as well be a virgin. Hell, you might as well be a priest.”
Was that disappointment in those wicked eyes of hers? I licked my lips, imagining the taste of hers. Wondering how soft they would be on my skin. How tight when wrapped around my cock. This woman released something inside me I hadn’t even known was there, but now that she had, I refused to be caged again. I wanted her. Had since the first moment I’d laid eyes on her. I just had to convince her to take the chance.
I moved back, grabbing her hand to pull her with me. She seemed almost shocked by that—by the fact that I could be a gentleman. What kind of men had she dated?
Never mind. I didn’t want to know.
“You know the difference between a priest and a pastor?” I asked as I headed for the door.
