Sinner

“Sinner,” his voice came from behind one of the walls.
“I’m leaving.”
“Why?
Payton threw her hands out wide. “This is-is-is—” She was lost for words.
“What? Confronting?”
“Yes.” That was exactly what it was.
“And it scares you.”
She snorted at his words. “No. It repulses me.” That he knew what she was thinking scared her more than any possible dick that may push through a hole in the wall looking for attention.
“Liar.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do, Sinner. You wore a short skirt because I asked and because you needed to. You want more sexual excitement in your life than you have now.”
Payton shook her head. “I like my life and I want you to leave me the hell alone.”
“But I can’t. I want to play with you.”
The low, husky sound of his voice maker her tremble. “No.”
“You like to sin. You like sex.”
Payton wasn’t about to deny that as it would sound like a lie. “You just want to use me.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes snapped open wide. “You admit it?” That surprised her.
“Yes, so use me back to fulfill your sexual fantasies.”
Payton was speechless for a moment. He wanted her to use him? Seriously? “I already have a lover.”
“And?”
What did he mean by that? Am I supposed to justify myself to him? To myself? “And I love him.”
“That’s sweet, Sinner.”
Payton stamped her foot. “Stop calling me that.” She wanted to ask about the Ouija board and who had told him about her. Not for one second did she think a spook was out, lining people up for random, stranger sex.
“You like to sin. What should I call you?”
“You don’t know me.” One night of sex up against a wall did not make a relationship.