Page 100 of Sin With Me

Now I’m royally pissed off.

“You’re looking—”

“Hot,” I finish for her, laughing tightly. She presses her lips into a thin smile as she sinks onto the pew beside me. We’re front row, as usual, and waiting for Isaac to appear from his office.

I dab my forehead again and glance over my shoulder, finding the church full. People wave fans in front of their faces, trying to fight the heat. Some are sitting, but many are standing. We don’t have a lot of seating, so it’s first come first served, but everyone saves at least one spot for me at the front.

Today, unfortunately, Mary snagged the seat beside me.

I should have brought my big purse so I could at least feign saving a seat for Oli. I internally scoff. She never wakes up early enough for Sunday service.

“Are you excited about the announcement today?” Mary asks, leaning toward me.

“Announcement?” I push my brows together, confused. “What announcement?” She smiles coyly before turning her attention to the little stage. Her annoying grin widens as Isaac’s heavy footfalls bound up the few steps.

“Good morning y’all,” he shouts loud enough for everyone to hear, even Old Man Jenkins in the back. I stare at her a moment longer, wishing I could read her fucking mind.

What announcement?

Slowly, I turn toward the stage, really taking Isaac in for the first time since last night. He’s somehow taller and more handsome. His presence is bigger—more consuming. Now I know what his lips taste like, the way his hard body feels over mine, pounding me deeper and deeper into insanity.

It was blissful and idiotic, yet it happened and I don’t want to go back to how things were before.

My pussy pulses as a vivid memory of Isaac hovering above me, his hips driving into me like he was trying to exercise my soul of demons, flits through my mind. I cross my legs tightly and shift in my seat.

Mary grips my hand, snagging my attention. I jump with a tiny gasp. My neck snaps in her direction so fast, my head pounds in protest. Mary doesn’t pay me any mind, staring straight ahead, her smile saccharine, her eyes wide and doe-like. I yank my hand away, nearly gagging at the way our sweaty palms glide against one another.

Gross.

“God Almighty, this is so excitin’,” she breathes, leaning forward in anticipation.

What the hell has gotten into this woman? Apparently the demons left me and entered her.

“Amen,” the congregation murmurs as one, lifting their heads from their respectful bows of praise before turning their attention back to our faithful leader.

Shit, I missed the morning prayer. I’m seriously out of it right now. As if to agree, my head throbs painfully.

With a grimace, I snatch my hanky from my small purse and blot my forehead like the lady my mama raised me to be. Isaac gently lays his Bible onto the pulpit and slides his hands into his perfectly ironed slacks.

“Before we get started with today's service, I’ve got a bit of an announcement to make.” His cheeks, golden tan from hours spent out at the lake, go pink with embarrassment and it makes me sit up straighter. Everyone in the church makes sounds of excited encouragement, but I tune them out, my entire being homing in on him.

Isaac slips a hand from his slacks and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “We all know Mayor Alexander—he’s done great work for Divinity over the last twelve years.” He drops his hand and turns a genuine smile to the pew where our Mayor claims a seat every Sunday. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we appreciate the heck out of you, James.”

Mayor Alexander blots at his forehead with his own hanky and nods kindly. “It’s been a great run,” the ruddy older man agrees. “But it’s time to pass the baton to someone else.”

My eyes narrow as I stare between the two men. People shift in their seats, the excitement in the room palpable.

Isaac makes a sound of protest. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come on up here and say a few words? I’m sure everyone would love to hear from you.” His voice goes a bit more Southern than usual at the statement, and my brows dip.

Being born and raised in Florida, his accent isn’t nearly as thick as Mama’s was, but sometimes, when he’s nervous or excited, it gets thicker. Roman always hated it, but I find it comforting. Not right now, though. Right now, it just pisses me off.

The mayor waves him off. “I’ve had my moment in the limelight, Preacher Payne. Get on with it before we bake to a crisp, won’t you?”

Everyone laughs, murmuring sounds of agreement. I stay silent, but my body betrays me by releasing another rivulet of sweat that trickles down my spine.

“Stop with all the suspense,” Mrs. Baker calls, her usual softness replaced by irritation in the sweltering heat. “I’m about to croak. Spit it out, already.”

Chuckling, Isaac claps his hands. “Alright, alright. Don’t go startin’ a riot.”

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