Holy f.u.c.k.

I slam the door to my apartment above the bar shut, and storm across the room. I grab a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler from the shelf and pour a huge splash before I knock it back in one huge swig.

s.h.i.t.

s.h.i.t s.h.i.t s.h.i.t.

This just went from "don't play with fire" to jumping head-first into the flames.

Prim, proper, b.u.t.toned up, off limits, sheltered, drop dead s.e.xy without even knowing it Evangeline Ellis is a virgin.

And she wants me to teach her.

I groan.

I'm hard. f.u.c.k, I'm harder than I can remember being. Harder than Fiona even got me earlier. Way harder.

I exhale slowly, leaning against the brick wall and looking out the window down over the harbor. O'Donnell's is up the hill a ways from the touristy spots, but up here, you can see the whole d.a.m.n harbor and the town below.

But I'm not really seeing the quaint little vistas, because my mind is firmly on her.

Eva.

Sweet, innocent, untouched, Eva.

There's a part of me that feels like a total predator, being even more turned on by the information that's just come to light, but I ignore that part of me. The fact that no other guy in the world has laid their hands on her is weirdly...hot.

It's weirdly intriguing.

She wants me to teach her.

f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.

I groan as my hand drops to my jeans, feeling the thick bulge there as I take another swig of whiskey.

Guess I should come up with a lesson plan.

I grin wickedly at the thought. s.h.i.t, I wonder if she'll dress up in pleated skirts and knee highs for me.

Probably not.

I'd probably rip them off anyways.

Sweet, innocent Eva Ellis, offering to sell her silence in exchange for s.e.x lessons.

I shake my head. Don't get ahead of yourself, idiot. She doesn't mean the hands-on kind, she means asking questions about s.h.i.t she doesn't know about - somehow, despite being twenty-one f.u.c.king years old. And her questions about carnal knowledge aren't for me, they're for some other jerk-off. Some other jacka.s.s that's going to be the one to taste her for the first time.

Motherf.u.c.ker.

The thought sours in my head, but it's quickly overpowered by my previous ones of her.

She wants me to teach her.

I know it doesn't mean what I want it to mean, but the thought of getting her to say words like c.o.c.k or p.u.s.s.y brings a wicked grin to my face. And the thought of walking her through, I don't know, giving head or something - even if it's hands-off - is, well, hot.

It's really hot.

My zipper falls open as I stumble back onto my couch. I groan as my hand wraps around my c.o.c.k, and I drop my head back as I slowly stroke it.

Forget the act of s.e.x itself, I'm betting little Miss Gospel hasn't even seen a c.o.c.k before. I growl, imagining her wrapping her hand around mine. I imagine taking those lips, kissing her like I want to and like she's never been kissed before. I imagine her sweet moans, the furtive licks of her tongue on me, her sweet lips parting and her cheeks hollowing as she sucks me in for the first time.

Holy f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.

Here I am fantasizing about the preacher's daughter.

I'm sitting here jerking my c.o.c.k thinking about the preacher's virgin daughter.

I am so going to h.e.l.l for this.

And I so don't care.

By the time I'm imagining her sinking down on my c.o.c.k, my hands on her a.s.s and her hands clawing at my skin as I claim her for the first time, I groan, grabbing a tissue and grunting as the c.u.m erupts out of me.

I lay back, panting, grabbing my gla.s.s and taking a final sip of whiskey.

Yeah, I'm totally going to h.e.l.l.

It's totally worth it.

I'm sipping coffee, not beer, the next morning as I pull into the parking lot next to the big old factory building that will be the outreach center. I take a deep breath behind the wheel of Dad's truck, centering myself.

I need to get ahold of this s.h.i.t. I need to focus on the stuff that needs focusing on. The bar, the business, not going under, paying Rich back, and showing my dad I'm not a total deadbeat by helping with his project.

Things I don't need to focus on?

Evangeline Ellis and her insanely tempting virginity.

Forget it. The deal last night was a bust. I said yes to something I've got no business sticking my nose into.

Teach her?

f.u.c.king h.e.l.l. No. That's trouble I do not need, that's for sure.

I congratulate myself on a good strong pep-talk as I open the door and jump out of the truck.

Settled that nicely.

I sigh deeply and shake my head before I grab the coffee and donuts I picked up on the way over for some of the construction crew. It's early, but the place is already crawling with volunteers, builders, contractors, and just people stopping by to lend a hand. I dodge past some volunteers, wave to some people I know, and I'm weaving towards the main volunteer tent when I see her.

I see Eva.

And the whole night comes rushing back.

"Will you teach me?"

Jesus.

She looks up, and our eyes meet. She smiles and waves cheerily, and I wave back, like I'm being friendly.

...Not like I'm imagining teaching her how to get on her knees, or how to scream into a pillow as I f.u.c.k her from behind.

s.h.i.t.

This is no good.

I dodge past a crew of guys unloading bags of cement from the back of a flatbed, waving at a couple I know from the bar.

"You bring a keg?"

I raise up the big box of coffee I picked up at Dunkin' Donuts. "Yeah, black and caffeinated."

The guys groan but drop their s.h.i.t to come over anyways.

"It'll work." Harry, one of my regulars, snorts.

"Pretty sure the good reverend would crucify me if I got his crews drunk before work."

Harry grins. "Nah man, your old man is alright. h.e.l.l, he'd join in."

I chuckle. "He might."

"It's the other one that scares the s.h.i.t outta me."

"The other one?"

He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, and I follow it to see Leonard screaming and pointing wildly at some poor volunteers.

"Yikes."

"Yeah, no s.h.i.t. We've already b.u.mped heads twice. Listen bro, I'm a f.u.c.kin' Catholic myself, but the guy thinks every f.u.c.kin' screw and nail that goes into this place needs to get personally blessed by His Holiness."

"I'll uh, I'll talk to my dad." I frown and shake my head. "f.u.c.k it. I'll talk to him and see if I can calm him down."

"Yeah?" Harry mutters with a raised brow. "Get ready then," he mumbles as he grabs a coffee and skips out.

"Wait, what do you-"

"Rowan."

It's Leonard's voice, directly behind me.

Great.

I turn. "Hey, Leonard! Interest you in a don-"

"There were two beer bottles on the back porch of the house this morning."

I freeze, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat as his steely eyes lock onto me.

"Huh," I nod, frowning. "Sorry, I must've left them there back when I was working on the house before you guys arrived."

"They weren't there yesterday."

"No?"

"No, they weren't." His eyes pierce into me, like he's looking into me to see what I'm hiding.

f.u.c.k.

"Neighborhood kids, probably," I say as casually as I can.

It's f.u.c.king weird that I lie to him, too. Nothing happened last night, and there's nothing wrong with me having a drink with his above drinking age daughter.

So why do I feel guilty?

Why does it feel like dirty secret I need to shut up about?

"Neighborhood kids," he says flatly.

"Yeah, takes all kinds, right?"

He nods, those eyes of his still glaring into me like he's about to suss out the truth. "Well, we've got work to do."

"Definitely."

I decide to skip the "can you please stop ha.s.sling the workers" talk for now.

"So, care for a donut, Leonard?"

"I do not."

He turns abruptly and storms way.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter under my breath. Taking a swig of my coffee. I glance up, and see Eva working with some of the other volunteers across the job site.

Smiling.