Sinner

By Amarinda Jones

“Sinner,” his voice came from behind one of the walls.
“I’m leaving.”
“Why?
Payton threw her hands out wide. “This is-is-is—” She was lost for words.
“What? Confronting?”
“Yes.” That was exactly what it was.
“And it scares you.”
She snorted at his words. “No. It repulses me.” That he knew what she was thinking scared her more than any possible dick that may push through a hole in the wall looking for attention.
“Liar.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do, Sinner. You wore a short skirt because I asked and because you needed to. You want more sexual excitement in your life than you have now.”
Payton shook her head. “I like my life and I want you to leave me the hell alone.”
“But I can’t. I want to play with you.”
The low, husky sound of his voice maker her tremble. “No.”
“You like to sin. You like sex.”
Payton wasn’t about to deny that as it would sound like a lie. “You just want to use me.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes snapped open wide. “You admit it?” That surprised her.
“Yes, so use me back to fulfill your sexual fantasies.”
Payton was speechless for a moment. He wanted her to use him? Seriously? “I already have a lover.”
“And?”
What did he mean by that? Am I supposed to justify myself to him? To myself? “And I love him.”
“That’s sweet, Sinner.”
Payton stamped her foot. “Stop calling me that.” She wanted to ask about the Ouija board and who had told him about her. Not for one second did she think a spook was out, lining people up for random, stranger sex.
“You like to sin. What should I call you?”
“You don’t know me.” One night of sex up against a wall did not make a relationship.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarlet Harlot Publishing
• Release date: Apr 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465983701

Amarinda Jones

Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.

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Published by Amarinda Jones at Smashwords

www.amarindajones.com

Copyright© 2012 Amarinda Jones

Cover Artist: Amarinda Jones

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Sinner

Amarinda Jones

Chapter One

Prologue

Two days ago

Pay-ton, Pay-ton.

Tracey Pendleton’s eyes were huge with shock. She turned to the dark-haired woman beside her. It’s asking for you.

Her husband Dwayne’s eyes never left the Ouija board. This is freaky.

Payton Ray snorted in amusement. Don’t be crazy. One of you is moving the pointer. This was a board game and they were sitting in the attic, half shot on tequila. It was only logical that someone was playing silly buggers.

Not me. Tracey lifted her fingers up from the board.

Me neither. Dwayne held his hands up as well. ’Seems we have a ghost.

Payton looked at her long time lover, Charlie Keene. His long, square-shaped fingers hovered above the planchette. He was not touching it. She looked down at the bright blue nail polish on her own fingernails. Only she held on to the arrow shaped pointer. You’re being silly. It’s just a game. The Ouija board had been a gift that had been sent in the mail to Payton. There was no return address but knowing her crazy Aunt Edna’s love of all things spooky and occult, Payton suspected it had come from her. The idea of playing with it had started out as harmless fun. The looks of the other three faces made it seem less so. Come on. Stop being so serious. Let’s have some fun and find out the lotto numbers or something. Payton didn’t believe in ghosts sending messages from beyond the grave. She knew one of her friends was trying to freak her out.

Charlie arched his eyebrows and placed his fingers back on the pointer. What if it calls for you again? he grinned at her.

Oh, he has such a beautiful smile. It went from his from his lips right up into the deep blue of his eyes. Payton licked her lips and thought about what she would do to the luscious dark-haired man when this silliness was over. Well, it means only I will be the winner of the lotto.

Once more their fingers touched the planchette. Again her name was spelled out in sharp defined letters. Pay-ton, Pay-ton.

Okay, what is it you want from me, oh ghostly spirit? Despite her lack of belief in Ouija boards, Payton couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through her body. As pranks went, it was starting to unnerve her.

H-i-m.

Him? Tracey asked? There’s a ‘him’?

Dwayne looked at Charlie. We’re ‘hims’. Does this spook mean us?

The pointer moved once more. In rapid, jerking motions it spelled out the words. w–a–t–c–h–o–u–t and c-o-m-i-n-g.

Tracey reached over and gripped her friend’s