Saint:A Dark Mafia Romance(111)
I tighten my mouth, my gaze narrowed at him. "And by the way, were you just hitting on me?"
He snorts. "I was, before I realized who it was."
"Oh fuck you," I spit.
"I didn't recognize you, okay?" He shrugs again, raking his fingers across that distractingly attractive shadow on his cheek. "You got hot."
My eyes go wide as I feel the indignation boil up inside. "Excuse me?!"
Silas laughs. "No-no, hang on, that came out wrong. I mean you got hotter."
"Keep digging, douchebag."
His eyes flare for a second as they hold my gaze, his lips tight.
"You changed your hair."
Yeah and my direction in life, and everything else about me since you walked away from us.
But I don't answer him. Instead, we stand in silence right there on the pier of our hometown, right where we used to stand staring at each other under totally different circumstances. Under totally different stars.
My mind reels, trying to take in this man from my past - the man from my past. And I don't know whether I want to beg him to kiss me the way he used to where my damn toes would curl, or if I want to shove him right off the end of the pier.
Or worse.
"You didn't answer the question," I finally say quietly.
"Which one is that."
I suppress the growl in my throat. "What are you doing here, Silas."
He shrugs. "It's not every day Jacob Hammond gets a park named after him."
I stare at him. "You came back for my dad?"
"Rowan invited me."
I make a mental note to bury my older brother. Alive. In a very deep hole.
God he's more attractive than he ever was. The boy I once loved became a man over the last eight years. He's bigger all over - thicker chest, broader shoulders, more muscle on his arms. The smattering of teenage tattoos from when we were young have grown to full sleeves, and the smooth chin I used to kiss is now scuffed with a five o'clock shadow that was never there when we were young.
When I was eighteen and madly in love.
When we got married.
When he left.
"I thought you were in Ireland."
I say it quietly. I don't actually know that he was, just rumors and conversations overheard. I never wanted to know for sure where he'd gone off to, because it made it easier to stomach that he'd left. He wasn't somewhere else – somewhere tangible - instead of next to me, he'd just disappeared.
Silas takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on mine. "I was." His eyes search my face, though I don't know what he could possibly be looking for. "Dublin."
"For eight fucking years?" My voice is shrill, and I hate that it is.
"There-" he stops himself and shakes his head. "Yes."
I've gone over a reunion with Silas Hart in my head nine thousand times in my head over the years. Every conceivable scenario, every variable outcome, every possible conversation. At first, they were silly, stupid fantasies - he'd tell me how he'd been kidnapped, or thrown into a secret jail for years, and how the thought of me alone had kept him alive.
God I was an idiot back then.
But they soon turned more real - more grounded in the reality that the man I'd loved and given my heart to had willingly walked away and stolen it with him. And then my dream-conversations changed to me being this confident, self-sustained woman who casually laughs at the silly boy from her past who shows back up looking for forgiveness.
And yet here I am, letting every insecurity come pouring out like the same silly little princess who married the thief and thought there'd be a happily ever after somehow.
"Ivy-"
"Do they have fucking email in Ireland, Silas? Phones?"
He sighs as he drops his gaze to the boardwalk beneath our feet, the ocean sloshing gently beneath it.
"Well, this is going well," he finally says, looking up with that grin on his face and that token glimmer in his eye.
"Don't," I say testily.
"Don't what."
"Don't try and be funny, or cute-"
"Oh?" He grins at me. "So you do at least still think I'm cu-"
"Silas." My eyes flash, his name almost choking in my throat. "Stop, please." I shake my head. "I'm not that girl anymore."
The grin drops from his face as his sea-blue eyes narrow in on mine. "And what girl is that, Ivy."
"The girl you used to know," I say, summoning every ounce of firmness from deep inside and keeping my voice even.
"I'm not anything like that girl anymore."
He shakes his head, a pained look creeping into his eyes. "Ivy-"
"That girl died when you left her."
I whirl before he can answer, walking away down the pier as the echoing sound of the wheels of my suitcase follow in my shadow.
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Four Chapter Preview - Sinner: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance Romance
A Shelter Harbor Novel
I'm going to make this angel fall from grace.
She's my sweet temptation. The apple in the garden. Original sin.
Prim, proper, preacher's daughter, saving-herself-for-marriage Evangeline Ellis.
She's too inexperienced. Too innocent. Too pure.
But I'm going to take that pristine purity and I'm going to make it filthy with lust. I'm going to make it mine, and she's going to beg me for more.
She's only in Shelter Harbor for a few weeks. Her father's already promised her to a man she's never even met.
But she's down the street from my bar, tempting me every time I think about her, and I'm losing my power to resist.
The hell with the consequences, with her being off-limits, and with her being promised to someone else.
I'd say someone should have warned her about a guy like me, but then, someone did.
I warned her.
If this is sin, take me to hell, because I'll be damned if I let her go.
Copyright © 2016 Aubrey Irons
Cover Design: SupahKawaii Covers
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Cover Model: Andrew Biernat
Editing: Ellie McLove, Love N Books
Proofreading: Cassie Dean
Formatting: Vellum
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author's imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.
This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please do not continue reading this book of you are under the age of 18 or are offended by content of this nature.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older and are in no way blood relations. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.
To Sister Rosa. I know you're reading this, you saucy minx.
Also, to Dusty Springfield, of course.
Prologue
Rowan
"Oh, God."
The words drip like honey from her lips - a hushed, gasping prayer to the darkness surrounding us.
Her fingers dig into my skin, her legs tighten on my hips, and her eyes go wide - big blue pools blinking up at me. I move in, my lips grazing the hollow of her neck, groaning as I inhale her heat and her scent and her whispered moan. Her chest rises and falls against mine, and the silver of the cross nestled between her breasts catches my eye.
A sharp reminder of the sin we're committing.
This girl is my vice.
She's sweet temptation. The apple in the garden. Original sin, writhing beneath me, clutching at my shoulders, and letting my name fall from her lips.
And this is so wrong. Even I know that. She's too inexperienced for this. For me.
Too innocent. Too pristine. Too pure.
She's got no business with a guy like me. And I'd say someone should have warned her, but then, someone did.
I warned her.
She ignored that warning, and now? Now I'm going to show her how dirty it is down here with the sinners. I'm going to take that innocence all over again. I'm going to take that purity and I'm going to make it mine.
I move from her neck and sear my lips to hers. It's a hard, punishing, kiss. It's penance.
Absolution in advance of the sin.
I pull away, my hand sliding up to cup her jaw. The gasp hitches in her throat - her lip twists and half-catches between her teeth and I fucking growl.
I want this, consequences be damned.
Her being off limits be damned.
Her being promised to someone else be damned.
The fact that she's way too pure, way too good for me, and way too good in general be damned. In no rational world should I be talking to a girl like this, much less between her thighs with her legs around my waist and my cock poised to claim her innocence.
But then, we left rational behind long ago.
"Please," she whispers, begging me, like I've fucking dreamed of her doing.
My pulse jumps, my hand tightens in her hair, and the hunger roars up inside of me as I somehow hold myself literally inches away from her sweet heaven.
"Last chance, angel," I growl into her ear, groaning when she gasps at the ferocity in my voice. "Last chance before there's no coming back."