Page 40 of His Sinner

The woman clucks in disgust. “You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

Briar keeps rocking back into me, no longer suppressing her moans of ecstasy.

The woman’s heels click out of the room and she slams the door behind her.

With one final jerk back against my cock, Briar loses herself, hands slipping down the stall wall and moaning so loud, I clap a hand over her mouth before the whole restaurant knows exactly what we’re doing in here.

As she unravels in front of me, my own orgasm barrels through me, cock jumping inside her tight pussy as ropes of cum shoot out and fill her. I shudder against her, pleasure coursing through my veins.

When I can finally bring myself to pull out, we’re both panting.

“Wow. So that’s how you fuck your girlfriend, huh?”

So she was listening to our dinner conversation. At least parts of it. “No. You’ve been my wife since I laid eyes on you.”

She snorts. “I want a ring before you start calling me your wife.”

“You’ll get whatever ring you want. But I’m calling you my wife now.”

“Until death do us part?” She’s teasing, sarcasm dripping from her lips as she maintains the ridiculous notion that she’ll never marry me, but she’ll soon learn that I mean exactly what I say.

“No. Even when death comes for me, I’m crawling from my grave to find you in the afterlife.”

She can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips. “I’ve always wanted a man who would crawl to me.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

BRIAR

A hard knock on my front door makes me flinch and sends Cookie running to hide.

Through the peephole, a scowling blonde in a ponytail is waiting on my porch. A black BMW in my driveway.

My heart stops.

The blonde in the BMW who’s been following me. She isn’t lurking in the shadows anymore—she’s showing up at my front door in broad daylight.

She isn’t wearing a uniform, but don’t private investigators opt for casual clothes to blend in?

I could ignore her. I should ignore her. But I want to end this shit.

Impossibly, her scowl deepens when I yank the door open. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sure you can.” Her husky voice is vaguely familiar.

She strides for the open door before I jump out and slam it shut behind me. “You’re not coming into my house.”

Her eyes narrow. “Have something to hide?”

“No, I just have a rule about not inviting crazy stalkers to waltz through my front door. You’ll have to break in like the rest of them.”

Her lips thin, but she doesn’t deny the accusation. “What aren’t you telling the police about the night my brother died?”

The pieces click into place. April.

This is Austin’s sister. The woman on the phone who delivered the news about Austin’s death. Who was obviously suspicious of me when I offered to return her brother’s watch.

My heart hammers harder, panic mixing with the relief. April is the one who’s been stalking me. Ever since that phone call, she’s been following me, trying to find proof that her brother’s overdose wasn’t accidental and I’m the one responsible. She followed me to campus, to Nicholson Manor, and now she’s located my address.

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