Sinner (Shelter Harbor #1)

by Aubrey Irons

  Fuck it.

  I get up and turn the neon sign off. I step out, locking the front door behind.

  This is a bad idea.

  And then I turn and walk directly up the street in the direction of the rental house.

  Chapter Eleven

  Evangeline

  My eyes travel across the pages of the book in my hand, trailing page to page as I sit up in the bedroom of our house. I’m worn out from the first day of actual work, even if mostly just mentally.

  Today was groundbreaking at the new center. Well, not literally groundbreaking, since the Center is being put up in an old factory building from a closed down garment factory. Today was the start of the work though, and my job was mostly marshaling volunteers and helping to lay out schedules for the coming week or two. Still, exhausting, and just the same, I’ve always had a hard time falling asleep without reading something.

  Back when I was younger, it was bible passages, of course. Slowly, over the years, I moved past that — Dickens, Ayer, Hemingway. Some under the begrudging consent of my father, others hidden and read by flashlight.

  Tonight’s an old favorite — Abelard and Heloise — randomly one of the few I grabbed off my shelf and packed to come here with.

  I’m paging through it when a clacking sound comes from outside.

  I stop, frowning and glancing up. There’s only silence, and the dim sound of someone snoring — probably my father — down the hallway. I return to the pages.

  The clacking sound comes again, and I glance up sharply again. The third time, I realize it’s the sound of something hitting the window. I slip from the covers, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around myself as I frown and pad to the window.

  Something strikes it again just as I get to it. And I gasp, jumping back before flinging it open and sticking my head out.

  “Are you serious?”

  It’s Rowan, standing in the side yard in jeans and a leather jacket, a handful of pebbles in his hand.

  “Hey.”

  “What are you doing?”

  He shrugs. “Getting your attention.”

  “There’s a front door and a doorbell, you now. It is your house.”

  “And how exactly do you think me ringing the bell right now would go over with Preacher Ellis?”

  I half hide the grin as I shrug.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sleeping?”

  He grins. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “You woke me,” I lie.

  He raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest and making a tsking sound.

  I frown. “What?”

  “I thought lying was a sin. A good Christian girl like yourself should know-”

  “Oh my God,” I groan.

  “My Lord indeed,” he shakes his head dramatically.

  “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

  “What were you reading?” He nods up at the book still clutched in one hand.

  “Nothing.”

  “Let me guess, Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul?”

  “My father’s a preacher, not me.”

  “My second guess was The Bible.”

  “Wrong. Way off.”

  “Now that sounds scandalous.”

  I blush.

  “A dirty romance book?”

  My face wrinkles. “Eww, no.”

  “Nothing with Lord Greyson of the throbbing member tearing Abigail’s bodice off?”

  My face goes red. “No, it’s a classic.”

  “Moby Dick?”

  He smirks as he stresses the second word.

  “Are you always so gross?”

  “It’s a constant struggle. Look, could we continue this conversation without a fifteen foot vertical divide between us?”

  “So I should leave my bed at twelve o’clock in the morning to go out with a strange man?”

  “You make me sound like serial killer.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “C’mon.”

  “No. It’s late and I have to sleep.”

  “I thought you were reading.”

  I purse my lips and he grins.

  And all I can think about is the other night…the thoughts he brings up in me. I don’t need him here, not at night, not with that wicked look in his eyes.

  There’s a sharp snore from my parents’ room, and I stiffen. “Hang on.”

  What am I doing.

  What the heck am I doing?

  I pull on a sweatshirt and shorts, skipping down the stairs and out the back door.

  Rowan immediately hands me a beer; I shake my head.

  “I thought you were hell-bent on showing me you weren’t the girl I thought you were.”

  I am hell bent, if I keep letting the sorts of thoughts I’ve been having about him take hold in my mind.

  “Fine.”

  He cracks the beer and hands it to me. “What were you reading?”

  “Abelard and Heloise, if you must know.”

  He makes a face.

  “It’s a story about-”

  “No, I know what it is, I just think of the poor guy getting his dick cut off and cringe.”

  I sigh. “Well thanks for ruining the ending.”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

  I look up and grin at him. “Just kidding. I’ve read it a bunch.”

  He grins back.

  “And I think it was just his testicles that get cut off.”

  Rowan makes a face. “Yeah, not helping.”

  “It’s a sweet story. Romantic.”

  “Oh, yeah, castration is the hot thing this year for Valentine’s Day. I saw it in Cosmo.”

  I laugh. “So, you came over here to talk about books?”

  “I actually just wanted to make sure we’re good about the other night.”

  My face burns. “The other night?”

  “The, uh, transaction you saw.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yeah.”

  I shrug. “Yeah I won’t say a word.”

  “Thanks.”

  We stand there in silence another second, slowly sipping the beers.

  “So when does this new husband of yours come into the picture?”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. He lives back in Georgia, but my father said he might come and visit in a few weeks so that we can get to know each other.”

  “Sounds like a halfway decent idea before you commit to being with someone for the rest of your life.”

  I nod, frowning at the ground.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s just,” I shrug.

  “What.”

  “Nothing.”

  “If you say so.”

  “He’s a little older, and he’s actually been married before.”

  Rowan’s brow shoots up. “How much older?”

  “Thirty-seven?”

  “Damn.”

  “Hey, you’re like thirty.”

  He grins. “Thanks for the reminder. Thirty-one, actually, but I act like I’m twelve so it’s fine.”

  I grin.

  “Plus, I’m not marrying you.”

  I blush. “No, you’re not.”

  “I thought you said this Milton character was a good upstanding guy.”

  “He is, I just- I don’t know. I’m bad with this sort of thing.”

  “What, marriage?”

  I smile. “No, I mean relationships in general I guess.”

  “You were engaged.”

  “Yeah but, I don’t know.”

  I can’t tell him this. No way. I can’t tell him what I’m really worried about. Telling a man like Rowan Hammond that would be like throwing lambs to the wolves.

  And I’m the lamb.

  “That was different, I guess.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s just that Milton has been married before, you know? He’s…been with another woman.”

  “Can I let you in on a little secret?”

  I nod. “Sure?”


  “You’re hot.”

  I blush bright red and quickly look at the ground.

  “You’re hot, you’re young, and trust me, you’re going to blow his fucking mind. Don’t let the idea of Jebediah, or whatever his name was, leaving you throw you off.”

  “Joseph.”

  “Whatever. Look, whatever worked with him is going to knock old Milton on his ass, I promise.”

  “Whatever worked?”

  “In the sack.”

  A fresh wave of heat washes over my face. “Right, well-”

  “Seriously, trust me as a guy on this one. Whatever hot moves you used before are going to be great.”

  “I don’t uh,” I clear my throat and drag my bare toe through the grass under my feet. “I don’t really have any hot moves.”

  I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. With him of all people.

  Rowan laughs. “I’m sure you do. Look, you don’t have to bust out the gymnastics or the kinky toys, just do what comes natural.”

  “Yeah, um-”

  “Figure out what he likes, show him what you’re into. Missionary? Doggy? Cowgirl? Shit, try ‘em all and see what-”

  “Yeah, I don’t know.”

  “Eva I’m telling you, whatever sex stuff worked with Joseph will work with-”

  “We didn’t do anything,” I blurt out.

  My lips snap shut immediately after, and my hand flies to my mouth.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No, what do you mean?”

  “I- I don’t know any sex stuff, okay?”

  “You were engaged.”

  “Yeah, well…I- we, I mean, you know.”

  He raises a brow.

  “You’re supposed to wait, and all that.” My face is burning as I say it quietly.

  Rowan goes quiet. “Wait, are you-” I look up pathetically and his eyes go wide. “Awww no way!” He stares at me. “You’re what, twenty-one?”

  I nod, cringing and dropping my eyes to the grass under my feet.

  God, why did I just tell him this?

  “Seriously? How is that even possible?”

  I snap as I glare back at him. “Well you don’t have to be an asshole about it! What’s the big deal?!”

  “Hey, hey, okay.” He holds his hands up. “Okay, it’s cool.”

  I deflate instantly, my shoulders slumping as the anger turns back into embarrassment. “It’s not cool.”

  “Nah, it is.”

  “Rowan, I’m from a religious family but I’m not clueless, okay? I get that it’s weird.”

  “Says who?”

  I groan. “Everyone?”

  “Fuck ‘em.” He chuckles. “Well, or don’t, in your case.”

  I groan.

  “Seriously, I think it’s cool.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “I swear, I’m not.” His arm suddenly moves over my shoulder, and I shiver against him. “Well, maybe not cool like Rolling Stones cool, but you know, interesting.”

  I choke out a laugh.

  “So that’s what’s worrying you?”

  I nod glumly.

  “You’ve heard of the internet, right?”

  I make a face. “What, pornography?”

  He laughs. “Well, yeah, plenty of that. But I’m sure there’s stuff out here to read.”

  “Ugh, I don’t know.”

  “You could always ask-” he stops short.

  “What?”

  “I was going to say you could always ask Chastity but…”

  I laugh. “Right, Chastity the nun. That’d go over well.”

  “I mean with a name like that, God it just seems like a dare.”

  I giggle, feeling warmed and comforted by his arm around me. “Thanks,” I say with a smile.

  “For?”

  “For being nice about it.”

  “Oh, I’m just holding it back for later.”

  I smile again as I take a tentative sip of the beer in my hands.

  “You could ask me, you know.”

  My brows shoot up as I glance sharply up at his face. “What?”

  “I mean if you’ve got any questions about it. You know, preparing for Milton.”

  “Sex questions,” I say flatly.

  “I do sort of know what I’m doing.”

  I blush as I take a step away from him, almost regretting the way his arm leaves my shoulders. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything tawdry, just questions. But suit yourself.”

  I nod. “I should get back inside.”

  He holds my eyes another second before he nods. “Sure. Oh, so we’re still okay about the other night?”

  I nod as I turn for the side door. “Yeah. Oh, and Rowan? Thanks.”

  He smiles. “Anytime, darlin’.”

  He turns and he’s started to head for the gate to the yard when the thought takes hold, quite suddenly.

  The wicked thought.

  Temptation.

  The devil’s whisper.

  Just go inside. I tell myself. Please just go inside. Just go-

  “Hey Rowan?”

  Crap.

  He turns. “Yeah?”

  “What if we traded?”

  What the HELL are you doing?

  “Traded?”

  “Yeah,” I can feel my heart pounding inside my chest. This is a terrible idea, but at the same time, maybe a good one. After all, who better to teach me something about stuff like this than him? Who better to ask questions about original sin to than the sinner himself?

  “I won’t tell anyone about the guy the other night.”

  “Appreciated-”

  “If you teach me some stuff.”

  His eyes flash, his jaw tightening as he suddenly looks at me with a hungry look.

  “No, not like…” I’m blushing furiously — simmering. “Not like, teach me — nothing gross. I just- I might have questions.”

  “And you want to ask me them.”

  I nod at the grass, not able to meet his eyes. “Something like that.”

  “Wow.”

  I cringe. “Okay, I’m sorry, this was a bad idea-”

  “No, no, it’s not actually. So, you’ll keep my secret, and I’ll be your sex teacher.”

  I roll my eyes, still blushing as I finally make myself look up at him. I swallow thickly, meeting those eyes. “Just questions. And you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “I can’t think of a single person I would.”

  I nod and stick my hand out. “So we have a deal?”

  There’s a slight grin teasing the corners of his mouth as he takes my hand. His skin is warm, and I shiver at the tingles moving through my body to places they shouldn’t.

  “Deal,” he murmurs.

  “Okay, so, goodnight.”

  I yank my hand away from his and flee into the house before I can say or do anything worse.

  Because I just made a deal with the devil, and I should not be this excited about it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rowan

  Holy fuck.

  I slam the door to my apartment above the bar shut, and storm across the room. I grab a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler from the shelf and pour a huge splash before I knock it back in one huge swig.

  Shit.

  Shit shit shit.

  This just went from “don’t play with fire” to jumping head-first into the flames.

  Prim, proper, buttoned up, off limits, sheltered, drop dead sexy without even knowing it Evangeline Ellis is a virgin.

  And she wants me to teach her.

  I groan.

  I’m hard. Fuck, I’m harder than I can remember being. Harder than Fiona even got me earlier. Way harder.

  I exhale slowly, leaning against the brick wall and looking out the window down over the harbor. O’Donnell’s is up the hill a ways from the touristy spots, but up here, you can see the whole damn harbor and the town below.
>
  But I’m not really seeing the quaint little vistas, because my mind is firmly on her.

  Eva.

  Sweet, innocent, untouched, Eva.

  There’s a part of me that feels like a total predator, being even more turned on by the information that’s just come to light, but I ignore that part of me. The fact that no other guy in the world has laid their hands on her is weirdly…hot.

  It’s weirdly intriguing.

  She wants me to teach her.

  Fucking hell.

  I groan as my hand drops to my jeans, feeling the thick bulge there as I take another swig of whiskey.

  Guess I should come up with a lesson plan.

  I grin wickedly at the thought. Shit, I wonder if she’ll dress up in pleated skirts and knee highs for me.

  Probably not.

  I’d probably rip them off anyways.

  Sweet, innocent Eva Ellis, offering to sell her silence in exchange for sex lessons.

  I shake my head. Don’t get ahead of yourself, idiot. She doesn’t mean the hands-on kind, she means asking questions about shit she doesn’t know about — somehow, despite being twenty-one fucking years old. And her questions about carnal knowledge aren’t for me, they’re for some other jerk-off. Some other jackass that’s going to be the one to taste her for the first time.

  Motherfucker.

  The thought sours in my head, but it’s quickly overpowered by my previous ones of her.

  She wants me to teach her.

  I know it doesn’t mean what I want it to mean, but the thought of getting her to say words like cock or pussy brings a wicked grin to my face. And the thought of walking her through, I don’t know, giving head or something — even if it’s hands-off — is, well, hot.

  It’s really hot.

  My zipper falls open as I stumble back onto my couch. I groan as my hand wraps around my cock, and I drop my head back as I slowly stroke it.

  Forget the act of sex itself, I’m betting little Miss Gospel hasn’t even seen a cock before. I growl, imagining her wrapping her hand around mine. I imagine taking those lips, kissing her like I want to and like she’s never been kissed before. I imagine her sweet moans, the furtive licks of her tongue on me, her sweet lips parting and her cheeks hollowing as she sucks me in for the first time.

  Holy fucking hell.

  Here I am fantasizing about the preacher’s daughter.