23. A Storm of Anticipation
Chapter twenty-three
A Storm of Anticipation
Celeste
The storm had swallowed the city of Obsidian Bay whole.
Thunder rumbled in the distance like an angry god.
Lightning cracked through the sky in jagged streaks.
Rain poured relentlessly. Those cold droplets pelted against the black umbrella I held.
He’s coming.
My heart pounded matching the rhythm of the rain.
I stood in front of the cathedral’s massive wooden doors. My heels clicked faintly against the stone steps as I shifted my weight.
God, I can’t wait to see him. So bad, I probably would have been here whether Jesus told me to or not.
My long raincoat hung around me, hiding a naughty surprise.
I thought about what I was wearing underneath and grinned.
Girl, you are so nasty.
I shook my head.
Jesus told you to check on him. He didn’t tell you to come half-naked and draped in seductive lace.
Still, here I was, the hot erotic anticipation curling low in my belly, refusing to let me regret it.
But. . .how was he about to hurt himself? And why was he going to do it?
The sound of his voice on the phone had unraveled me. His tone had been coated in this conflicted sadness.
He wasn’t supposed to sound that way—not him .
There was so much pain in that tone.
What kind of pain could push a man as strong as Cassian to the edge of breaking?
The thought sent a chill down my spine—one not caused by the storm.
Father Cassian was strong, unyielding, the rock so many leaned on. He was too good of a man to feel broken, too good of a man to sound as though the weight of the world had pressed its boot to his chest.
That’s alright. I’m here now. We’ll nip this hurting himself bullshit in the bud.
I tightened my grip on the umbrella.
Another crack of lightning lit up the cathedral.
The towering stone structure loomed above me. There were all of these detailed carvings on it—saints, angels, and scenes of divine triumph. And it all came alive in the storm’s harsh light.
The twin spires reached into the heavens almost bruising the dark clouds. Rain lashed against the aged stone and distorted the stained-glass scenes.
I glanced down at my reflection in the puddle pooling at my feet. My lips were painted a deep red, and my hair was pinned back, although the storm’s relentless humidity had already worked to loosen a few strands.
Underneath the raincoat, my surprise clung to my skin—a delicate, lacy piece of red lingerie that left little to the imagination. It was impractical, scandalous, and entirely inappropriate for the reason I was supposed to be here.
But I wanted to see him.
I bit my lip, unable to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.
And I wanted him to see me too.
The thought sent a thrill down my spine.
If Sister Margaretta caught me here like this, I’d probably be the subject of her sharp whispers for years to come.
But it didn’t matter. He was too sexy to care. And since that confessional moment, I’d had some naughty thoughts on my mind the whole drive over here.
Thoughts that no amount of prayer could chase away.
Eh, Jesus said it was cool though. So. . .
Instead of focusing completely on the road, I imagined Cassian’s big hands roaming over my body, his lips trailing sinful kisses down my neck.
Mmmhmm.
The way his muscles flexed when he moved, the intensity of his gaze that always felt like it could strip me bare.
I shivered, though it had nothing to do with the rain.
I wanted to feel him inside me.
I wanted to press my hands against his bare chest and feel the solid muscle beneath my palms as he lost control for once, giving in to what we both knew simmered hot between us.
We’re fucking. That’s that, and it must happen TONIGHT.
I shrugged.
I don’t know where. In my car or his. Maybe we’ll go somewhere. . .
I looked back at the cathedral.
What about in there? Naw. Would you forgive us, Jesus?
I raised my eyebrows.
Would you turn the other cheek while I finally make him mine?
Another gust of wind sent rain splattering against my umbrella, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Suddenly, the massive wooden doors of the cathedral creaked open, their weight groaning against the storm as they parted, revealing the man who had been haunting my every thought.
Cassian.
My breath caught.
My chest tightened.
Good God.
I had to stifle a gasp as my gaze swept over him and, my anticipation crashed into reality with the force of the thunder roaring overhead.
The first thing I noticed—how could I not?—was that he was shirtless.
Damn, Father Cassian.
The storm and moonlight seemed to conspire, casting him in an erotically spiritual glow. Shadow and light played along the curves of his sculpted body.
The darkness in his eyes told a story of battles fought silently, struggles buried under his stoic facade, and for the first time, I saw a man who needed saving.
Don’t worry. I’m here.
I slipped my view down and could see his bare chest much better than in the confessional.
I licked my lips.
His pecs were broad and powerful, the kind of chest a woman could sink her fingers into and feel nothing but strength. Faint lines cut down to the hard ridges of his abdomen. The definition there made my knees weak.
Plus, his every inhale and exhale made his muscles flex subtly.
His shoulders were wide, the kind of width that could block out the world.
His biceps—thick and corded with muscle—looked strong enough to carry the weight of Heaven, Hell, and all in between.
How many women had secretly wanted to claim him, to feel the strength of his arms around them?
I couldn’t stop staring, my mind unhelpfully imagining what those arms might feel like wrapped around me, pinning me, holding me so tightly I couldn’t escape—and wouldn’t want to.
I let my gaze drift lower, a sinful indulgence I couldn’t help.
The thin white fabric of his pajama pants clung to him—nearly transparent—outlining the powerful lines of his thighs. His legs looked carved from stone.
How the hell did the nuns not unite together, hold him down, and fuck the shit out of his ass?
I swallowed.
And then—oh God—I saw it.
His cock.
That perfect length that I’d had in my mouth earlier today.
Mmmm.
Thick, hard, and impossible to ignore, it strained against the fabric, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The big, mushroomed head pressed prominently against the white cloth, and it was a shameless declaration of the tension that simmered between us.
The sight hit me like a physical force—a rush of heat surging straight to my core—leaving me trembling in the rain.
Mmmhmm. And there’s no divider between us either.
How could I comfort him when all I wanted was to consume him? To give him everything while selfishly taking what I craved?
He remained silent taking me in and licking his lips. He clearly was as horny for me as I was for him and loved what he was seeing.
The cathedral’s shadowed interior framed him like a dark halo.
Then, he spoke, filling the rainy air with his deep sexy voice. “Jesus told you to come to me?”
“He did. He said you were hurting yourself. Were you?”
“I was about to.”
I blinked, shocked at that confession. “H-how were you going to hurt yourself?”
He stepped back. “Come inside.”
“Maybe we should. . .” Lust unfurled in my chest. “go to my car or somewhere else.”
“I didn’t even put on my shoes. I just hurried here.” He opened the door wider. “Come inside.”
His words were simple, but the promise laced within them was anything but.
I swallowed. “The nuns could come and see us.”
“You received a personal message from Jesus to see me in a dark moment of my life. I don’t give a damn if they show up.”
I blinked. “O-kay.”
He gestured for me to come over.
I obliged and every step closer to him was a promise of his hands on my skin, his lips claiming mine. Yet, I swear this time entering the cathedral, it felt like I was crossing a portal, a threshold to something forbidden and thrilling.
His dark eyes locked on mine. The intensity of his gaze held me captive.
Lust and hunger surged in those pupils.
Tonight would be unlike any other moment we’d ever shared because the storm wasn’t just roaring outside—it was rising within us, a volatile force coiling tighter with every breath, flashing, booming, and waiting for the inevitable moment to pour down over us both.