Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Unlocking the door, I went inside, turned on the lights, put my binders down, and tucked my purse under the cabinet. I’d not gotten coffee, but I would survive. Maybe go there for lunch.
Right when I opened my blue binder to see what else I needed to get finished, the door opened. I had locked it. That meant it was someone with a key. I knew who without looking.
“Good morning,” I said, lifting my head with the best smile I could muster. “How can I help you?”
The hard expression on his face and the fact that he continued stalking toward me wiped the smile off my face. I wasn’t invisible today. But perhaps being invisible would be better.
“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Father?” I quipped.
He stopped and planted both hands on the counter between us. “You’re avoiding me again.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d notice. Seeing as, on Saturday, I became invisible.”
His nostrils flared as he stared at me. “What would you have had me do, Saylor? Look at you and grow more livid by the moment, ready to rip a man’s head off right in front of everyone?”
I frowned. “Are you jealous of Crow?” I asked, wanting him to admit it.
“Yes.” He seethed. “I am jealous of Crow. I’m so jealous that I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. It’s a constant taunt that never stops.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “The part of the talk you gave me on my birthday didn’t involve me not dating people. I wasn’t aware that would be an issue.”
He shoved off from the counter and let out a maniacal laugh so unlike him that I tensed up. “Yeah, well, seems I wasn’t prepared for my reaction. I didn’t know there was this threat to my sanity waiting, untouched, until I watched you smiling, flirting, sitting too damn close to another man. And then saying yes to a date with him.” He ran a hand through his hair.
The crazed look in his eyes sent a shot of excitement right between my legs. I liked that it’d made him jealous.
I uncrossed my arms and stood up. “I guess this is just one of those things we will learn to navigate. To our situationship or whatever it is. I won’t date anyone in the church so you won’t know or see it.”
He took two long strides, stopping only inches from me. “You think that’s gonna help?” he asked me, his eyes so heated that I wanted to whimper. God, he was hot, but like this, he was fire. “I’ll live every second obsessing over if you’re seeing someone. If you went on a date. If he touched you. I will lose my mind, Saylor.” He said the last part through his teeth.
I wanted to say, Good.
But that wasn’t going to be what pushed him over the edge. I might not be the girl he loved, but I was the woman he wanted now. He had become a priest for her, but he had broken his vows for me.
“I didn’t take a vow of celibacy, Father. And I don’t intend to live a life of celibacy because you don’t want me.” Nudge, nudge, shove.
He grabbed my shoulders and pushed my back against the wall. “I never said I didn’t want you,” he said in a low voice. His eyes dropped to my lips. “In fact, want isn’t strong enough of a word for this, Dimples.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “No, baby, it’s not want,” he whispered. “It’s a longing that devours my spirit, my beliefs. It delves into every pore, eradicating everything else until there’s just you.”
He slid his palm over my cheek until he was cupping my face. His head tilted, and the green of his eyes reminded me of velvety moss today as he fought the turbulence of emotions fighting inside him. I stood, waiting. My breaths coming in short pants as I watched him make a choice. His other hand came up to cover the opposite cheek, and he held my face, his eyes lifting from my mouth to meet my gaze.
“I can no longer pretend that I’m capable of living this life without touching you,” he whispered, then lowered his head.
I could smell mint as his mouth touched mine. The tip of his tongue darted out, parting my lips. I opened them as I gripped the back of his neck, my knees going weak.
The first brush, the first moment of connection, was a surrendering. My tongue chased his as a deep groan vibrated in his chest. He slid his right hand down to my neck, then gripped it briefly, and then he ran his hot palm over my chest before filling it with a breast. I dropped my hands to grip the sleeve of his shirt. Fisting the fabric and pressing my chest forward as he squeezed one mound, then moved to the other.