{"id":33052,"date":"2014-02-21T12:36:57","date_gmt":"2014-02-21T17:36:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.shilohwalker.com\/website\/?page_id=33052"},"modified":"2014-10-23T20:13:14","modified_gmt":"2014-10-24T00:13:14","slug":"sweeter-than-sin","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.shilohwalker.com\/website\/secrets-and-shadows\/sweeter-than-sin\/","title":{"rendered":"Sweeter than Sin"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Sweeter-Than-Sin-by-Shiloh-Walker275x450\"<\/a><\/p>\n

CAN\u2019T FORGET THE PAIN<\/p>\n

It took years for Adam to stop drowning his regrets in alcohol, and running the local bar doesn\u2019t make it any easier\u2014especially not when everyone he knows gathers there to discuss the shocking allegations that have shattered his hometown. When another murder rocks sleepy Madison to its core, it becomes chillingly clear that even more vicious wounds are waiting to be exposed.<\/p>\n

WON\u2019T RESIST THE PLEASURE<\/p>\n

Nothing is sacred anymore, and no one is safe, least of all the mystery woman who shows up in town out of the blue, looking like every fantasy Adam\u2019s ever had. She may have her own dangerous secrets, but she can\u2019t ignore the urgent heat between them any more than he can. As a killer\u2019s quest for vengeance explodes into violence, Adam is tempted to lose himself in the delicious promise of her body\u2014until he realizes he\u2019ll risk anything if she\u2019ll give him her heart\u2026<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t shared his bed again.<\/p>\n

He hadn\u2019t really expected her to, but there was still a hollow ache in his gut, while his dick throbbed, pulsed.\u00a0 He felt it had been years since he\u2019d touched a woman instead of just hours.<\/p>\n

He could lose himself in her twice a day, every day, for the next ten years and he knew he wouldn\u2019t lose the need he had for her.\u00a0\u00a0 He didn\u2019t have ten years, though.\u00a0 He probably didn\u2019t have one more day\u2014just those hours from that one night.<\/p>\n

She sighed, reaching up to rub her eyes and he saw how pale she was, the strain in the set of her shoulders, the way she gripped her pen.\u00a0 Talk to me<\/em>. He wanted to go to her, demand she tell him something. Anything. Everything.<\/p>\n

Once, she\u2019d been willing to tell him her secrets.<\/p>\n

But that had been back when they were friends.<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t sure what they were now, but she seemed to have forgotten how to share bits and pieces of herself.\u00a0 Although maybe forgotten<\/em> wasn\u2019t the right word.\u00a0 She just didn\u2019t let herself do it anymore.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t trust herself, or she didn\u2019t trust him.\u00a0 Both, probably.<\/p>\n

Instead of pressing his lips to the delicate curve of her neck, instead of sitting down close to her, he just moved into the kitchen, moving loudly enough that her head came up.\u00a0 Her eyes moved to his and the faint smile on her face hit him square in the heart.\u00a0 He\u2019d do almost anything to see that smile stay on her face.<\/p>\n

He might even cross out the almost.\u00a0 What would it take to take the misery from her?\u00a0 He just might be willing to do anything.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning,\u201d she said, her voice husky, soft.<\/p>\n

\u201cMorning.\u201d\u00a0 He focused on the coffee she\u2019d brewed, giving that simple task far more attention than it deserved, but he wanted to be in control before he sat down in front of her. It was kind of nice, he mused, having somebody sitting at the small table with him in the morning.<\/p>\n

Especially today.\u00a0 He wasn\u2019t ready to be alone in his head.\u00a0 A few minutes ago, he\u2019d taken a call about the funeral arrangements for Rita. One of her cousins had called, wanting to make sure he knew about the visitation and the service, but halfway through that conversation, her mother had overheard and she\u2019d yanked the phone away, screeching at him like a harpy.<\/p>\n

By the time it was done, she\u2019d threatened to have him arrested if he even showed his face. Adam didn\u2019t know what he\u2019d done to make her hate him, but he definitely didn\u2019t want to think it through and brood alone.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t look like you\u2019ve slept,\u201d she said.\u00a0 There was something nervous in the back of her pale gray eyes.<\/p>\n

He wondered at it.\u00a0 He\u2019d seen her yesterday morning before he\u2019d had to leave for work.\u00a0 When he came home yesterday, she\u2019d already been tucked into her bed and although he\u2019d wanted to climb into the bed with her, that seemed a little presumptuous. Okay, a lot<\/em> presumptuous.<\/p>\n

Hadn\u2019t stopped him from wanting to do it.\u00a0 Just to hold her. Wrap his arms around her and feel her next to him as they slept, to know, finally<\/em>, that she was here, that she really was safe and alive. That whatever had put that mark on her side hadn\u2019t taken her away from him.<\/p>\n

A hundred things danced on the tip of his tongue and he couldn\u2019t say any of them.\u00a0 A hundred questions, a hundred demands.\u00a0 Since none of them were the right thing to say, he just shrugged.\u00a0 \u201cI never sleep well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t crash until almost midnight.\u00a0 You weren\u2019t home.\u201d<\/p>\n

He grimaced and shrugged. \u201cComes with owning a bar.\u201d\u00a0 He could turn the late nights over to somebody else.\u00a0 Step into the daytime work, stop being so hands-on, but the thought of being in the house, alone, through the long, endless hours of the night was just plain torture.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t answer, but the weighted silence coming from her seem too tense for her to be done.\u00a0 Studying her, he realized she was looking at something.\u00a0 Something small, cupped in her palm.<\/p>\n

A ragged sigh slipped out of her and then finally, she put it down.<\/p>\n

And he wasn\u2019t even surprised. The sight of the round token, a dull bronze, sitting there on the table didn\u2019t surprise him at all.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t see which one it was and what did it matter, really? \u00a0If it had been bright enough in her room, she might have figured it out when she saw more of his tatts, but there was no hiding it now.<\/p>\n

Besides, if she was around town long enough, she\u2019d hear.<\/p>\n

The chip she\u2019d laid on the table was one he\u2019d picked up from countless meetings. He\u2019d stopped the AA meetings on a regular basis years ago, but he\u2019d still hit one from time to time if the urge hit him too hard.\u00a0 Sometimes, he\u2019d drop in if he thought somebody he knew might need a familiar face.<\/p>\n

The shame, the frustration, the guilt, shouldn\u2019t those be gone by now?\u00a0 He\u2019d dealt with what he\u2019d done.\u00a0 Hadn\u2019t he?\u00a0 He\u2019d climbed out of that hole, damn it.\u00a0 Yeah, he still had to fight the need, but he was winning.<\/p>\n

Usually. But there he was, fighting the twisting, ugly crawl of guilt in his gut, the hot, rush of blood as it crept up his neck as he stared at that token.<\/p>\n

She knew.\u00a0 Knowing that she knew hurt<\/em>. It hurt his heart, his soul, his pride.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long?\u201d she asked softly.<\/p>\n

He dragged his gaze away from the token and met her eyes.\u00a0 \u201cHow long what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Pushing away from the table, he moved over to stare out the window at the backyard.\u00a0 He had to spend some time out there soon, dealing with the flowerbeds, weeding, all that shit he hated.\u00a0 He did it because that yard had been his mom\u2019s pride and joy and he\u2019d take care of it for her.\u00a0 And it was easier to think about that than to think about this conversation that she apparently wanted to have.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long since you stopped drinking?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked back at her.\u00a0 \u201cFifteen years, give or take.\u201d\u00a0 He didn\u2019t tell her that he hit the bottle, hard, about the same time her boyfriend had started hitting it.\u00a0 He\u2019d been quieter with it.\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t gone out, gotten into fights.\u00a0 He just went to work at the grill, came home.\u00a0 Got drunk.\u00a0 Day in, day out.\u00a0 That was how he dealt with every day without her.<\/p>\n

His parents saw it before anybody else.\u00a0 Adam had very much been a functional alcoholic.\u00a0 Nobody had seen it until the last few months before his parents died when he\u2019d started needing more and more. That was when he started getting in trouble, picking fights, causing trouble wherever he could.<\/p>\n

If it hadn\u2019t been for what happened to his parents, he would have drank his way into an early grave, he suspected.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned and looked at her, standing there, holding that damn token.\u00a0 That tarnished little coin.\u00a0 And it had all started, that night.<\/p>\n

Now she wouldn\u2019t even tell<\/em> him what had happened, why she\u2019d made him lie.<\/p>\n

She rubbed the back of her hand over the back of her mouth.\u00a0 \u201cFifteen years\u2026\u201d She licked her lips.\u00a0 \u201cWas\u2026was it your parents?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019d wanted me to sober up for a long time.\u00a0 It was the one thing I could do for them, so even though I did it over their graves, that was the final gift I gave them.\u201d\u00a0 He shrugged and looked back outside. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t much of a gift, but it was all I could do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence was a dark, ugly weight and then the chair squeaked across the floor and he turned to watch as she crossed the floor to him. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes troubled.\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t understand\u2026you didn\u2019t start drinking then? When they died?\u201d<\/p>\n

Then<\/em>?\u00a0 He stared at her.<\/p>\n

Then he looked away.\u00a0 \u201cI grabbed my first drink the day I had to lie about your phone call.\u201d<\/p>\n

He went to go around her, intent on changing into some work clothes and sweating himself to death out in the backyard.\u00a0 Manual labor would feel good.\u00a0 Damn good.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her voice, soft and shaken, stopped him before he hit the door.<\/p>\n

Closing his eyes, he rested a hand on the wall.\u00a0 \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2026what phone call?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Amazon<\/a> | BN<\/a>\u00a0| IndieBound<\/a> | Book Depository<\/a>\u00a0| iBooks<\/a>\u00a0| Kobo<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

CAN\u2019T FORGET THE PAIN It took years for Adam to stop drowning his regrets in alcohol, and running the local bar doesn\u2019t make it any “Sweeter than Sin”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":32752,"menu_order":5,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10161045129738658_54762468447":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-33052","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nSweeter than Sin - Shiloh Walker<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.shilohwalker.com\/website\/secrets-and-shadows\/sweeter-than-sin\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Sweeter than Sin - 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