Sinner-Saint Box Set (Sinner-Saint Series)

by Roxie Odell

  He stood and stepped toward her.

  Cheri’s eyes grew wide. She knew if he came any closer she might cave in to her own desires, because even as angry as she was she had no defense against the chemistry they shared. His scent reached her, and the tears strained behind her eyes.

  “You’re right,” he said in a honeyed voice. “I wouldn’t even tell you my name. Do you know why, though? Because I took one look at you and knew if I got close to you… I was afraid of being that vulnerable, so I fucked things up.”

  Cheri sat and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “Is this where I’m supposed to say, ‘Oh no, Thomas. You’re not a bad guy’? Why is it always about you?”

  “I’d love to make it all about you if you’ll let me,” he said, uncharacteristically quietly.

  “Do you feel better now?” she asked coldly.

  “Not really.”

  “Well, frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!” she said in her best Southern twang. “Will you please go now?”

  “I will, if you can honestly tell me you don’t feel anything for me, that you think you’ll find what we had with someone else.”

  “Maybe you should ask yourself those questions,” she blurted. “I’m not the one who threw away whatever we have.”

  “Cheri!”

  She whipped around and stared at him, ready to go toe to toe.

  “Are you gonna talk to me or not?”

  “Sure,” she replied sarcastically. “In fact, I have seven words for you.”

  “Which are?”

  “Get the fuck out of my house!”

  He closed his eyes in frustration. “Don’t you even want to hear what was going on?” he asked, desperate.

  “I know what was going on. You fucked someone after you played me!”

  “And you became a drunk.”

  “For a week!” She rolled her eyes. “And that’s private, as in…none of your business.” She used his own cruel words against him again.

  “Ain’t that the kettle calling the pot,” he exclaimed, scolding her with a glare.

  “Kettle calling, my ass,” she fired back, unable to control her cockiness. Deep down, though, she wanted to hurt his feelings, to do some real damage, and she was sure that was the only thing that would make her feel better, as immature as it was. “You are about to be a felon again, Cowboy Boots. I’m not kidding. If you don’t get out of here, I’ll call the cops…and I’ll tell the judge all about those guns you had that day.”

  “Wow,” he said. “You really wanna hurt me that bad? You wouldn’t take my calls, even when I was just trying to tell you I stepped up and did the right thing?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You want me to give you a pass for that? That good deed’s supposed to excuse you forever?”

  “In about two seconds, I’m going to stop giving a shit about your feelings,” he said sternly. “Let me know if you want that.”

  “Maybe I do,” she said, sulking and crossing her arms again.

  “Well, that explains why you’ve been tearing it up in the bars all week.” He shook his head, clearly disgusted. “You’re a glutton for punishment.”

  “I must be, if I was with you! And now that you mention it, you need to stop calling and texting me. If you don’t, I think I’ll throw stalking in on the charges, too,” She was being beyond ridiculous but couldn’t help herself. They’d had something special. Something amazing. And then he said he needed a week. To what? Have a round of goodbye fucks? Really? She was hot for him, but not desperate!

  Thomas slapped his thighs. “That’s it,” he said, then stormed to the door.

  “Tell me you weren’t just using me.” She hated that the words slipped from her, that pain was oozing from every pore of her body.

  “I wasn’t,” he said over his shoulder. He turned to look at her and continued, “I was straight up with you. I warned you not to get involved with me, but you pushed, and I couldn't resist.”

  “So this is my fault?” she asked in total disbelief. “You’re right. I’m so, so stupid.”

  “The night with Blake and me… I was only saying goodbye.”

  “By sleeping with her?” A tear slipped out of her eye and she brushed it away angrily. “People don’t do that. Normal people don’t start to fall for someone and then fuck someone else as a goodbye. That’s not normal.”

  “You know what we were,” he rasped.

  “Is that the way you say goodbye to friends with benefits?” Cheri snarked.

  “If that was us, wouldn’t you want it to be like that?”

  She charged at him like a bull at a red flag, then gave him a hard shove that barely caused him to stumble. “Damn you!”

  “C’mere, Cheri.”

  “No! Like I said, I walked in here a free woman. I was looking forward to being that,” she said, but a quiver in her voice screamed how confused she really was. She couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing Thomas again. Even if she couldn’t admit it to him she wanted to turn back the hands of time, to the moment when they kissed goodbye in that very doorway and sealed it with a promise they would see each other that weekend.

  “Do you really want me to go?”

  Cheri sighed. “I want you to stop being a prick.”

  “I promise to work on it,” he said in his deep voice. “Now, do you want me to go?”

  “No,” she said softly, hating that she was admitting it to him. The right side of her brain told her to kick him out, the left begged for one more night. “I don’t want to be more committed than we should be at this point either, though. I don’t want to own you, Thomas, but damn it, I don’t want to be lied to. No woman deserves that. You were apparently very honest and up front with Blake and probably others. Please give me the same damn courtesy. You said yourself that honesty is the best policy, yet you don’t practice what you preach with everyone. With me.”

  He tilted his head and smiled softly. “So you got pissed at me for being blunt, and now you’re pissed at me for being dishonest?”

  Being reminded about the way she was dumped only inflamed Cheri with more rage and jealousy. “Maybe that Ben is right. You’ve been nothing but trouble since I met you.”

  “Well, I have come in handy once or twice, haven’t I?” Thomas asked with a deadly glare.

  “Whatever,” snapped Cheri.

  “I never told her I love her,” he said patiently. “Yes, I screwed around. Yes, I backslid, but I was clear when I said I don’t want that lifestyle. I want you, Cheri. I want…us. I know it sounds crazy, and maybe I’m too old to be finding myself just now, but I’ve seen the light.”

  Cheri’s heart broke at his humble admission, and she felt like a fool because just looking at him made her weak in the knees and in the soul.

  “Cheri…” he begged.

  They gazed into each other’s eyes from across the room. She could tell he was thinking just as deeply as she was, but she had to wonder.

  Is he thinking the same thing?

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  Passion

  Sinner-Saint Series Book #2

  By

  Roxie Odell

  Copyright 2016 by Roxie Odell

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

 
; All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2016 by Roxie Odell

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  Passion Description

  When Cheri Holt runs into her scorching-hot ex-flame, the off-the-hook gorgeous Thomas Graham, she forgets all the reasons she told herself Never again. One look in those intense eyes and just one hapless kiss from those incredible soft lips, and their passion finds them tearing up the bed together, in an out-of-control mess of twisted sheets and confusing compulsions.

  Life throws curves at the lovers, but despite all the dark moments, they continue lighting each other up. Their smoking-hot chemistry is unmatched, and the game is definitely on between them. Their affair picks up where it left off, until the daunting wreckage of Thomas’s past rears its ugly head and he again pulls one of his famous disappearing acts.

  Cheri feels like a fool. Is it happening all over again, or was he just in it for the hunt? Is he telling the truth when he says she’s the only one for him? Can a bad boy change his spots, or is her hero just a sinner forever caught in the snares of his past?

  Chapter 1

  Heatwave again, thought Cheri. Fall could not come fast enough. Between the extreme rains and the intense humidity, Mother Nature was almost forcing her to find religion. It crossed her mind once or twice that the end of the world was near and that she should consider taking an inventory of her life and getting her affairs in order. Affairs? Pssh, she thought with a smirk.

  The smoldering, crazy heat bouncing off the granite and marble of the nation’s capital sent spikes of warmth up through her legs as she walked, unable to find shade. The torturous temperature brought out the catastrophe in people, particularly a moderately high-strung woman like her. In just a few more blocks she would be rescued, able to step into the chilly, overly air-conditioned building that held her workspace.

  For her on-foot commute, Cheri wore her Converse sneakers with her slip dress. The sweater wadded up in her backpack would allow her to conform to the conservative office dress code when she arrived, as the last thing she needed was a disapproving glare from that witchy co-worker of hers, Marlene. Otherwise, the dress was something she enjoyed kicking around in on its own, on the weekends, sans the extra layer. She certainly didn’t consider it too skimpy or too sexy for public, but apparently the guys at the construction site she passed thought otherwise. A couple of them obviously found Cheri’s body stimulating, and were quick to voice their opinions and cat-calls from beneath their hardhats.

  “Hey, mama!” one called out to her.

  Ordinarily, she would have traveled via the sidewalk across the street, but that side was completely blocked off. She quickened her pace, kept her gaze on her feet, and reassured herself. Just a couple more seconds, and these idiots will be behind me.

  She had to walk through a makeshift breezeway covered by a flimsy awning, of sorts, meant to protect pedestrians from the hazards of construction.

  “Hola, mamacita,” said the vest-clad man at the end of the walkway, taking a special interest in her with his dark brown eyes below his sweaty brow.

  “Mama, huh? Son, you never call,” she teased, hoping to quickly pass him.

  “Oh, I’ll call all right,” he said darkly, using his flag to block her way.

  She was instantly nervous, like a hapless tourist about to be snatched and death-rolled underwater by an angry alligator. Her eyes darted around and saw too many nooks and crannies, plenty of places Slob the Builder could take her and do whatever he wanted, with the noise of the drills and saws and hammers to drown out her cries. Nevertheless, she swallowed the lump in her throat, tried to play it cool, then blurted, “Whatever.”

  She tried again to walk by, but as she did, without even turning to look, Cheri felt someone behind her. Her body sensed power, like the dark, intense force of a storm. Two on one? Great, she thought, they’re freakin’ out of control. Like zombies in an apocalypse. Her knees buckled. The terror grew even more intense when she felt a hand on her back.

  “Go to the trailer and collect your check,” a voice said in rich baritone. “You’re fired.”

  Instantly, warmth unfurled through Cheri. She knew that voice, and she knew she was safe.

  “Boss, I was only teasing,” the flagger protested.

  “Well, I’m not laughing, and neither is she,” Thomas barked. “Them’s the breaks, pal.”

  Even though she’d been rescued yet again, Cheri still couldn’t move. Steeped in fear from the encounter and excitement over a reunion with Thomas, she was absolutely paralyzed, as if she’d stepped in some of their wet cement.

  “Hello,” Thomas said, leaning around her face and smiling at her. “We have to stop meeting this way.”

  “You’re always coming to my aid. Th-Thanks yet a-again,” she said, stuttering.

  “You’re welcome again,” he said. “By the way, not all construction types are assholes.”

  She smiled, albeit only a half-hearted grin. Yeah, right. Some of you are just hot, likable people…until you break our hearts. As that thought occurred to her, the reality of why she’d stopped seeing Thomas Graham tightened her midsection in a painful grip that made her want to throw up.

  “You look good,” he said, “and it’s nice to see you. Hey, didn’t we once have a conversation about walking around this neighborhood, something about it not being safe?”

  “Yeah, yeah, and I was gonna get a big giant dog, but my boss just wouldn’t let me bring one to work,” she said.

  “You aren’t far. Would you like a ride?” he offered. “I’ve got my truck right over there.”

  He was being quite friendly to Cheri, and she knew she didn’t have the willpower to resist him. Nevertheless, she tried to turn him down anyway. “Sorry, but I don’t get into cars with strangers,” she said, trying to make a joke of her rejection.

  “Stranger than fiction maybe. C’mon, Cheri,” he said, with repressed frustration.

  She ogled him for a moment. Thomas Graham was such a gorgeous man, tall and well-built, with longish, layered hair that made him look like he stepped right out of the wild, wild West. The tan skin made the cut and contours of his muscles pop even more. Of course he was just a man, just a human being, but his was the finest of all genetic configurations, and as Cheri took him all in she had to wonder if she was being unreasonable in refusing his ride, just because of their tumultuous past. It’s not like I’ve never made mistakes of my own, she reasoned.

  Thomas had made his mistake in trying to straighten himself out so he could be better to her, or so he’d said. Now, she had to wonder if she was being stubborn, if she was insisting on standing on her so-called principles and holding her ground not because his actions were wrong but because, in the end, he’d hurt her. She only had a couple minutes to get to work, and he was offering to help her with that little dilemma. All things considered, she decided to lighten up.

  “Yeah, sure, Thomas, I’ll take that lift. Thank you,” she said, as graciously as she could.

  “Right this way, milady,” he said with a bow and a wave.

  His enormous truck was parked on the street, in the construction zone, and Cheri was instantly faced with a challenge she’d forgotten about. Climbing up into the seat was no easy task, and it was even more difficult when wearing a dress. She felt his strong hands at her waist, and he lifted her like she was nothing. It was the closest thing she could imagine to being able to fly, and within seconds she was properly situated in the passenger seat and facing forward, modestly pulling her dress down. By the time he took his place by her side, she was acutely aware of the amount of skin that had been exposed in her ascent into the cab. She tugged at her hem again, trying to cover her thighs, to no avail.

  Thomas reached over her and pulled her seatbelt across her lap and chest, brushing her hip with his finger as he fastened it. “Rules of the road,” he
said with a wink. “Click it or ticket.”

  “I can do that myself,” she said, though she didn’t mind that he’d done it for her.

  “We’re in a hurry, right?” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, looking out the window. The truth was that she might have gotten there quicker by walking, but she was glad to spend the time with him… even if it was only a few stolen minutes.

  As he drove, she was painfully reminded that she’d broken up with him. She just couldn’t handle the fact that he was a man with a past, and she had too many insecurities of her own. Strangely enough, if anyone had ever asked her about it and she was being completely honest, she would have had to describe Thomas as the best man she had ever known, yet her only answer to why she broke up with him was simple: Because he was a bastard.

  Thomas’s truck smelled of coffee with a hint of garage, a combination of citrus and oil. Never in a million years would she have predicted she would feel so sentimental and nostalgic about such an odd aroma, nor would she have believed that the neatly arranged tools on the floor or the commuter mug wedged in the cup holder would almost bring a regretful tear to her eye.

  “Your coffee is calling my name. I might even break down and drink the stuff they offer us at work,” she said, scrunching up her face.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Like recycled Pennzoil on a good day.”

  “Well, that there’s home-brewed. Help yourself to a sip if you want,” he said. “I haven’t touched it yet, so you don’t have to worry about germs.”

  Cheri grinned and picked up the cup. The coffee was strong and hot but also softened and sweetened with sugar and milk, more delicious with every swallow. Just like the driver, she thought naughtily to herself, daring a glance over at him. “Mmm. Good,” she said. “Now I feel like I could hit the gym.”