The Sinner (Notorious 1)

“No,” he said and I stopped. His tone was clear. He meant no.

“No?” I whispered.

He stepped to the side and untied my wrists and with my hands free I didn’t reach for him, I sat naked and wet in front of him. Unsure of what to do. And so he did it for me. Straightening my robe with shaking hands. The warmth of him when he got close enough was incendiary.

“Why no?”

He was silent.

“Was it…” I swallowed. “Was it something I did? Do you not want-“

“What?” He asked, eyes blazing in the moonlight.

“Me?” I was shaken down to my core

He looked away, his jaw like granite. “Not like this,” he said.

And even though I didn’t know what the words meant, they hurt.

“Oh.” I wished I had a snappy comeback. Something that would prop me up, make me feel smart and mature and indifferent when all I felt was stupid and weak and confused.

“Good night, Savannah,” he said and stepped away and then away again. Until I was alone in the moonlight and he was nothing but shadows.

I got out of there so fast.

MATT

I had to go.

I watched her run away, the hottest most fascinating woman I’d ever touched and knew that leaving was my only option.

Too many lies. Too many secrets. There was no way I could explain myself, not after that. It would all seem like a lie. I’d come here trying to make one thing right and I’d only wreaked more havoc. Brought more pain.

It had taken every ounce of will to leave her in the library, but I’d done it because I knew it was right.

And then she fucking followed me.

I was lying to her, for crying out loud. Using her for information, like a key to a lock, and as much as I’d wanted to fuck her until we both forgot who we were, I couldn’t do it.

Regret filled me with dirt and sand, weighing me down.

I felt sick again. I would leave, my Dad had gone down for a crime he’d committed and the partners who betrayed him would stay in the wild. I could not fix that without hurting these women more.

I would send them money. Not that it would repair what I’d done. Sending the girlfriend money wasn’t going to change her lover’s death, but I’d done that anyway.

It made me feel better. As though I was doing something. Fixing something. Anything.

I stepped toward the corner where I’d hidden my wallet and the files. All my truth, right there, steps away from the bed. The files were heavy in my hands as if the information were weighted. Cannon balls I’d been using against the O’Neills.

What would she think if I vanished? I couldn’t even stand to contemplate the baffled hurt in those blue eyes. It would be the ultimate rejection.

I sighed and stared at the moonlight through the glass roof.

I was a coward, a miserable liar, but I couldn’t do that to her. I simply couldn’t.

That left me with two options—more lies or the truth.

I took a deep breath and knew I couldn’t tell any more lies.

I hated the person I was turning into, the man I was becoming.

I could fix this. Make it right.

Just the thought made me put the files back under the pot.

Tomorrow I’ll tell her the truth.

SAVANNAH

The next morning, I wasn’t fooling around. I perched on the counter and made myself a breakfast of hot coffee and cold sugar pie.

I’d barely slept last night, my body running hot and my mind cold. C.J., uninhibited, rolled onto her back on the counter next to me. Feeling benevolent, I gave the old girl a good tummy rub.

The way Matt had rubbed me last night.

I could not stop replaying it all in my mind. What did he mean, not like this? Not in the old sleeping porch? Not with Katie and Margot sleeping upstairs?

Or was there something worse stopping him.

The past conditioned me to pick option three because it was the worst option and I liked being prepared for disasters. But I didn’t want to this morning. I wanted to believe that he’d stopped because of Katie and Margot and the squeaky daybed on the porch.

Didn’t stop him from tying you up. Putting his mouth all over you.

Whatever reasons he had for stopping I didn’t want to believe it was because he wasn’t the man I thought he was.

He was a good man, a valuable man of worth and honor.

Not at all like Eric.

Please. Not like Eric.

I mean, fool me once and all that shit.

Nope, I was going with my gut on this one and started to hum an old Van Morrison tune. Matt Howe was one of the good ones.

“You’re an idiot.”

Jumping at Juliette’s voice, I whirled, pushing blond hair out of my way to find my best friend standing in the kitchen doorway.