Redemption: A Sin Series Standalone Novel (The Sin Trilogy Book 6) Read online




  REDEMPTION

  A SIN SERIES STANDALONE NOVEL

  GEORGIA CATES

  GEORGIA CATES BOOKS LLC

  Published by Georgia Cates Books, LLC

  Copyright © 2018 Georgia Cates

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Editing services provided by Lisa Aurello

  Formatting by Jeff Senter of Indie Formatting Services

  Cover photography by Sara Eirew

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Author Note

  Excerpt

  Porter Beckman

  About the Author

  Also by Georgia Cates

  Prologue

  Leith Duncan

  Four Years Earlier

  Left side of the room. The middle. Right side of the room. Behind her. Lorna’s head turns from one side to the other, and her eyes scan the members of our brotherhood surrounding her.

  She’s looking for something. Someone?

  Me?

  I watch her. Unable to resist, I study her face and body and analyze her facial expressions and body language. It’s all part of an attempt to gain some insight into what’s going through her mind.

  I do it a lot—watch her while she’s unaware. It’s impossible not to when she sashays around my pub wearing the Duncan’s uniform. No one looks like she does in that blouse and kilt.

  I want to get closer. Close enough to smell the peach and cherry-blossom body spray on her skin. Her signature fragrance. That shite drives me crazy. Just a single whiff of it makes me hard.

  One of her arms crosses over the other, and that’s my cue. I’ve indulged for too long in my little spying game.

  “May I have this dance, Miss Frazier?”

  Lorna unfolds her arms and looks at me over her shoulder. I love watching her dimples form, but I especially love watching those small depressions in her flesh deepen when her eyes meet mine. Because I know that her smile is especially for me.

  She clears her voice and whispers, “You already know that you can have anything you want where I’m concerned.”

  “Do I know that?”

  She turns around and both brows lift, widening her brown-green-golden eyes. No one has eyes like hers. They’re like chameleons, always changing colors. “You should.”

  “Perhaps I need reminding again.”

  I slip my hand inside of hers and lead her to the center of the dance floor. Once we blend into the dancing couples around us, I pull her close. Probably closer than I should, but I don’t care. And even if I did, I can’t help myself. This woman does something to me.

  No, this woman does everything to me.

  Lorna Frazier. She’s the first thing to come into my head when I wake and the last before I fall asleep. And that isn’t the end of it. She constantly enters my thoughts throughout the day. I can’t get enough of her. She consumes me. No woman has ever had that kind of power over me.

  The longer we dance, the closer we become. And the closer we get to exposing our secret.

  “I love this song,” she says.

  “I don’t know it.”

  I’m not usually a fan of the bands that The Fellowship hires to play at weddings, but this one isn’t half bad. Their music isn’t a repeat of the typical wedding songs that the other bands perform.

  “This is ‘Moonlight’ by Dan Owen. But I’m not surprised by your not knowing it. Your taste in music is…”

  The corners of her mouth curl upward and she looks away.

  “My taste in music is what?”

  “Not the least bit romantic.”

  I’m a man and not just any man. I’m Fellowship. I don’t do romance and Lorna knows this about me. “Why should my choice in music ever be romantic?” The final word of that sentence leaves a bad aftertaste on my tongue.

  Those dimples that I love so much slowly disappear, and the light in her eyes fades. “I guess there is no reason.”

  I don’t like the sadness I see on her face and hear in her voice. And I especially don’t like the distance that is growing between her body and mine.

  I lower my head and place my mouth against her ear. “Have I upset you?”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. I’m not that girl, the one who pouts because she doesn’t get wooed by the man in her bed.”

  The man in her bed. Singular, implying that I’m the only one, and that isn’t the case. I share Lorna with another. And I’ve come to hate every fucking second of it. But at least it’s an improvement from when I used to share her with two men.

  But I don’t want to think about that right now.

  Sin will be tied up at this wedding for the rest of the night. There’s zero chance of him intruding on my alone time with Lorna this evening. And I plan on taking advantage. “We should wish Logan and Emilia our best and get out of here.”

  “And where would we go?”

  “You know exactly where we’d go.”

  Her smile returns. “Another one-on-one?”

  “Aye. Just you and me tonight in our special place. What do you say?”

  “I say that you leave first. I’ll follow fifteen minutes later and meet you at your flat.”

  The song ends and my lovely raven beauty steps away, slightly lowering her face and bending at the knees. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Duncan.”

  Her curtsy is proper and old-school, just the way Edin taught her it should be.

  She doesn’t look anything like a woman who is about to get fucked into oblivion.

  “It was my pleasure, Miss Frazier.” The first of many that I plan to have with you tonight.

  At least a dozen brothers prevent me from leaving as I’m on my way out the door. All of the bastards want to talk tonight, and it takes much longer than I’d like to slip away from the wedding reception. I suspect the same must be true for Lorna as well since I’ve been waiting for her at my flat for almost an hour.

  Lorna: Sorry. On my way now. Be there soon.

  Leith: You better be. I want you beneath me right now.

  I grab a whisky and turn on some music, thumbing through my favorite playlist. And Lorna is right. My taste in music works for me, but it is gruff and unromantic for a woman.

  Lorna wants to be wooed. She didn’t come out and say the words, but I heard them loud and clear.
And I want to give her everything that she desires.

  Her knock is soft, just like the music that’s playing when she comes through my front door.

  “Sorry, I’m—”

  I put an end to her apology when I push her back against the interior side of my front door. With my hand in the back of her hair and my mouth pressed against hers, a soft moan emits from the back of her throat, making my already-hard dick throb against the zipper of my trousers.

  Her mouth opens and our tongues meet, moving frantically against each other at first, but then they slow to the rhythm of the song playing through the surround speakers in my flat.

  “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby” by Cigarettes After Sex. Maybe not the most romantic song in the world, but it fits us. Or at least it fits the way I want us to be.

  My mouth leaves hers and moves down the side of her neck, leaving kisses in a path.

  “This song… it’s soft and slow,” she whispers.

  “I know. I chose it for you.”

  “I love it.”

  My hands grip the backs of her lower thighs and lift. In one fluid motion, her arms encase my shoulders and her legs wrap around my waist.

  “Take me to your bed.”

  I’ve shared Lorna with Jamie and Sin more times than I care to admit, but never at my place. My bed is a refuge where it’s always been only the two of us. I think of it as our hideaway where she belongs to only me. I never have to share her when we’re here.

  Our one-on-ones have been happening more and more frequently. And each time I have her all to myself, it only manages to increase my inclination to make her mine. Only mine.

  This arrangement, the three of us sharing her, was Lorna’s idea. And for months, the sex was hot as fuck. But something unforeseen happened along the way.

  I fell in love with Lorna Frazier.

  I. Fell. In. Love. And I don’t even know how it happened.

  Fucking. Lie.

  I know exactly how it happened.

  It began when we started seeing each other one-on-one behind Jamie’s and Sin’s backs. She could have chosen any one of us to be alone with. But she chose me—a Duncan by birth. A simple pub owner. Not a Breckenridge. Not the next leader of The Fellowship. Not the well-educated doctor.

  Our secret trysts had been going on for a few months when Jamie stopped joining our foursomes. I can’t lie. I was happy to have one less person taking a turn with her. And I had hoped that Sin, too, would lose interest. But he hasn’t, and it’s becoming a huge problem for me; he’s standing in the way of my having Lorna all to myself.

  I don’t want him touching her.

  I don’t want him kissing her.

  I don’t want him fucking her.

  I’m tormented, day and night. The only thing that manages to get me by is the alone time we have when we’re able to sneak away.

  I lower her feet to the floor and her eyes are alight with delight when she notices the glow of burning candles dancing all around the room. “Leith…”

  “Is this what you want? Soft music? Burning candles? Romance and tenderness?”

  “This is exactly what I want,” she whispers.

  “And you want these things with me? Not Sin? Not Jamie?”

  Her hands frame the sides of my face. “Yes, I want these things and so much more with you. Only you.”

  She presses a soft kiss to my mouth and then turns around, pulling her long, lush hair over her shoulder. My fingers tremble as I lower the zipper of her black lacy dress. Not because this is the first time ever that I’ve undressed her. I’m pretty sure that it’s not even the one hundred and first time. But it is the first time after hearing her confirm that I’m the one she wants.

  The top of her dress falls, and the warm yellow candlelight dances against the bare skin on her shoulders. The urge to kiss and lick and nip at her skin is irresistible. And her body tells me that she wants it too when she leans against me, tilting her head, giving me full access to the side of her neck.

  I’ve been gentle with her skin, careful to not leave any evidence of a sexual encounter since that could lead to her being labeled a tainted woman. But now, the need to see my mark on her body is overpowering.

  “Ohhh… Leith…”

  She reaches overhead and her hand grasps the back of my head, pulling me closer, encouraging me to suck harder and leave a more profound discoloration. Because she wants this as much as I do. She wants to be marked by me.

  I push her dress downward until it becomes a pile of black fabric on the floor. A single quick yank and her black strapless bra becomes the second piece of clothing to hit the floor, leaving her wearing only her tiny black knickers. And fuck, what a measly scrap of fabric those knickers are.

  Her back arches, forcing her arse to press against my cock, making me harder. And then she moves to the beat of the music, rubbing her bum back and forth over my erection.

  “Fuuuck, Lorna.”

  Her hands find mine and she brings them upward, encouraging them to grope and massage her tits. “How much do you want me, Leith?”

  I suck her earlobe into my mouth and nip it lightly before releasing. “You can’t imagine how badly.”

  Her nipples harden beneath my touch, and I give in to the urge to roll them between my thumbs and index fingers before lightly pinching.

  “Ohhh…”

  My hand moves on from her tit and slowly works its way down her stomach, sliding into the front of her knickers. Her body arches deeper when my fingertips hook around that special place between her legs to find that sensitive little bundle of nerves hooded beneath her soft, delicate flesh.

  “This is mine. Only mine from now on.”

  “Only yours.” Her voice is muffled by the pant of her breath, but I’m able to make out the sound of her confirmation.

  “It’s over. From this night forward, no more sharing. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl.”

  Her desperate, breathy whimper makes my dick twitch. “Please don’t stop.”

  “Don’t worry. I have much bigger plans for you.”

  She turns and her hands grip my shoulders for balance while I pull down her knickers. She steps out of them and the final piece of her clothing is added to the collection on the floor.

  “Lie on the bed. I want to look at you while I take off my suit.”

  She stretches out on the bed and props her upper body on her elbows and lower arms, watching me remove my clothes.

  “Do you like the suit?” I ask.

  “I do, but I prefer to see you in jeans and a T-shirt.” The corners of her mouth turn upward, and fuck, I love that naughty little grin of hers. “But naked looks mighty fine on you too.”

  “I’m glad you prefer the jeans and a T-shirt. You probably won’t see me wear a suit again until there’s another Fellowship wedding. But naked? I’m happy to wear that for you anytime.”

  She nibbles her bottom lip as she watches me take off my clothes. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Men aren’t beautiful.” Especially Fellowship brothers. Brawny, frightening, scarred, yes. But beautiful? No.

  She stretches one of her legs out, and her toes wiggle against one of my thighs. “You are.”

  “No, babe, you’re the beautiful one. I’ve always thought so.”

  There are those dimples I love so much. “You’ve always thought I was beautiful?”

  “Well, maybe not always. I guess that I started taking notice when you were about thirteen or so.”

  The skin of my chest and stomach brushes against hers as I inch up her body. I don’t know what it is about us touching this way, but it sends tingles all over me. Maybe because it feels intimate in a way that I’ve never experienced before her.

  Maybe because I love her.

  My upper arms press into the mattress, forming a cage of flexed biceps around her head. And I look at her face. The face of an angel. And those eyes. I could get lost in them, trying to figure out if they’
re brown or green or amber.

  I lower my head and the tip of my nose brushes hers. “I could stare at you forever.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t because there are a lot of other things I’d prefer you to do to me.”

  “Tell me what you want. You know I’ll give you anything.”

  I quiver when her nails drag up the center of my spine ever so gently. “I want you to kiss me. And touch me. And make love to me.”

  “And make you come?” As if I have to ask.

  “Yes, over and over. And after we’re covered in sweat and our bodies are exhausted, I want you to hold me close in your arms.”

  “Can you stay for a while?”

  Up and down, the tip of her nose rubs against mine. “Yes.”

  “Good. Because what I want to do with you is going to take a long time.”

  I pull back and stare at her lips for several heartbeats before lowering my mouth to hers again, delivering a delicate yet passionate kiss. This time, I taste what remains of the sweet wine on her tongue.

  “I want to devour you. Every. Delectable. Inch.”

  “Then do.”

  I give her a soft kiss before slowly slinking down her body, my lips grazing her skin as I move lower. I’m not sure if she’s trembling from the contact of my mouth or the anticipation of what’s to come. Either way, it inflates my ego to know that I have the power to evoke that kind of reaction from her. A natural response that can’t be faked.

  I place my fingers on the insides of her inner thighs and push her legs apart. The force required to open them is nonexistent. And then it hits me—the sweet smell of her arousal. The scent invades my nose and my mouth waters.