Chapter Nine
Kade
Seven Years Ago
The ride back to the church is torture. The truth is in the air. I should be repenting and conjuring up apologies to this innocent woman who’s going through enough as it is. Instead, I’m thinking about the dream she had, replaying every filthy detail.
She wants me to bend her over. She wants me to fuck her hard. She wants me to take her thick waist and plow into her from behind as she screams out for relief.
Heaven help me, I need it.
If I’d stayed on the beach a second longer, every impulse would’ve won.
I’d have spread her legs, sunk inside of her, and claimed her like a wild fucking animal.
I’d have breathed in her scent, and I’d have become an addict.
I know this without deep reflection. There’s something about this woman that turns me into a beast.
I turn onto the main road toward the little church in the valley, the sight of the white steeple filling me with guilt. Who the hell am I? What am I doing? Why am I having these feelings, these urges? Why am I pretending like I want forgiveness, when really, I want to sin?
I’m still riding the turn when I see Leanne on the front steps of the church with a clipboard in hand.
I have no idea what she’s doing here today.
All I can think is that she’s trying to hijack the volunteer committee meeting Wren is set to start this morning.
I consider driving straight past the church and toward town, but Leanne is already waving, and given that I have Wren on the back of my bike, I probably have some damage control to do.
“Wow,” Leanne groans as she readjusts the lime green pencil skirt she’s wearing. “Second day in church and you’re letting the new volunteer coordinator wear your clothes while you give her a ride? I’ve been asking for a ride for ages. You told me you don’t give rides.”
“Good morning, Leanne.” I nod and climb from the bike once Wren has found her way off. “What can I help you with?”
She rolls her eyes and glares toward Wren like she’s personally offended her.
“I came by to tell you that I talked to the market down on Main. They said they’d sell my pie right in the store.
They’re going to put a big sign next to it that all proceeds go to Grace Valley Church.
” She narrows her gaze tighter and flips her blonde hair back.
“They said it was a special accommodation that they don’t do for everyone, but because they know how good my pie is, they trust it will sell really well. ”
“That’s great, Leanne. Thank you for your help.” I say the words too flatly, I know it the second they come out of my mouth, but this woman is constantly looking for reassurance that she’s done something right, and this morning I don’t have the energy for it.
This is probably another sin because all I want to do is ignore my flock and pay attention to this one little lamb.
Lord, why can’t I get ahold of myself?
“It’s a huge deal,” Leanne continues. “I have my pie in a store! People all over town are going to be eating it, and every dollar they spend is going to come back to the church. We could have a new roof on this place by next summer.”
I want to tell her that roof will most likely cave in this winter and that’s the reason I picked Wren as the volunteer coordinator. We need big changes, and my mother was right. We need them sooner rather than later.
“We can talk about all your volunteer work,” Wren says to Leanne, as she tugs the helmet off her head. “That’s sort of my department now. Father Anderson has a million other things he needs to focus on.”
“No,” Leanne barks a hand rising to her hip, “I will not be talking to you about anything, and everyone in this church is going to know about you two on that bike. Something is going on here and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
I exhale heavily and roll my eyes toward Wren whose face has gone pale as she watches Leanne pull out of the driveway in her small blue convertible.
“I knew this would happen. Small towns are like a cesspool for scandal. Your entire career is going to be ruined because of me.”
“Because I helped you? No.” I land my hand on her shoulder, though I pull it back immediately. “This is my job. I help people.”
“But you don’t cuddle everyone who cries, you don’t take everyone to the lake, and you don’t let everyone sleep in your bed.” She pauses for a moment. “And when was the last time you had sex dreams about a member of the congregation?”
“All that ends now,” I nod, my chest tight.
“If you are to trust me with your feelings again, I’m going to make the upmost effort to push away every torrid thought I’m having.
You deserve to feel safe, and I am sorry, though I understand if you need to seek council and opportunity elsewhere.
I can set you up with a church in another town. ”
“That’s the thing,” she shrugs, a tinge of panic in her voice, “I don’t know how to make the thoughts stop either.
I don’t know how to get the images of you in that towel last night out of my brain.
I don’t know how to not want your big hands all over me.
I don’t know how to make my pussy stop throbbing every time I look at you. ”
“It’s okay,” I say, guiding her inside of the church. “We’re going to pray on it and we’re going to resist. God will help us.”
The door creaks heavily as it closes behind me, shutting out the harsh light of day. Wren turns toward me, her eyes laced with concern. “What if I don’t want to ask for God’s help? What if I like the way it feels to think about you?”
My cock pulses at my zipper as I guide her down the aisle toward the front altar of the church. “On your knees.”
“What?”
“On your knees before God. Look up at the cross and repent your sins. Tell the Lord what you need help with.”
Her chest rises and falls quickly as she strips off the heavy hoodie she’s been wearing.
Beneath it is the T-shirt she came in wearing last night.
A moment later, she drops down to her knees and stares up at me, full lashes flickering, her mouth open slightly as though she’s waiting on me to guide her through prayer.
That was the plan, though now all I’m imagining is my cock sliding between her lips.
I swear she grins as though she’s thinking the same thing too.
“I’m sorry for having such impure thoughts about Father Anderson,” she says, a whine in her voice as she glances between me and the Lord.
“I shouldn’t have dreamt about him touching me.
I shouldn’t have dreamt about him pulling my hair.
I shouldn’t have dreamt about him sliding his holy cock inside of my sopping pussy.
I shouldn’t have had these feelings, Lord.
I shouldn’t be letting them consume me. I need help. ”
Jesus Christ.
My cock goes hard as a fucking rock despite standing at the altar, thoughts of laying her out right here and now coursing through me.
I’d lift her up on the prayer table, I’d spread her legs, I’d breathe her in, and I’d taste her sweet juices until my beard was covered.
Then, I’d spread her wide and make her scream loud and hard in this old church.
My filthy little secret. My little lamb.
I drop to my knees and stare up at the cross. “Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.”
“Tell God what you’ve done,” she says, her voice broken as her arm brushes against mine. “Tell God all the filthy things you thought about me.”
I open my mouth and close it again, swallowing hard as my cock pokes the edge of the step.
“I dreamt about touching this woman, Lord. I thought about it a moment ago. I let my dick get hard at your altar with filthy thoughts of spreading this woman’s thighs and licking her until she squirmed and came on my tongue.
I ask forgiveness for these thoughts. I beg for guidance.
I beg for control. Please, Lord, help me.
” I lower my head, my cock still hard and throbbing.
“Help me keep this woman safe without ruining myself, Lord. Help me make sense of everything.”
The church door creaks open as I’m begging forgiveness, and I fully expect to see Leanne standing in the doorway with half the town, but instead I see my sweet, old mother in the yellow and white dress she wears every Monday.
I’m pretty sure this is worse.
She grew up here. She trusts me, believes in me, and I’m here, with a rock-hard cock, exchanging filthy talk with a woman who’s come to me for help at the altar of our Lord.
Guilt presses into me like a semi-truck, allowing my cock to recede, though it takes a second.
In that moment, Wren glances toward me and bites back a smile before turning away to greet my mother like the sweetest, little, church mouse.
I’m not sure how she transforms like that.
Devious and filthy one moment. Sweet and adorable the next.
My cock stirs again, but I stand and readjust myself, tamping away every stray thought as my mother and Wren talk.
“Betty,” Wren says with a bright cheery tone, “good morning! Are you here for the volunteer meeting?”
“Sure am! I don’t have much to give but I’m good at micromanaging.” She grins and leans into Wren for a hug. “I ran into Leanne at the market. She’s saying you two went on an early morning ride this morning.”
Of course, Leanne’s already running her mouth.
“We did. I, ugh, I had a family emergency last night and Father Anderson opened his doors to me. This morning he took me out to the lake for reflections.”
I guess we’re being honest.
My mom doesn’t bat an eye. “That lake is a great place for peace and quiet. A little far out, but the biker priest seems to like it,” she laughs. “What’s going on with your family, dear? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. My husband and I are just very different people, and yesterday everything kind of came to a head.”
“Is he the one that gave you those bruises?”
“Mom!” I groan. “Stop.”
“What?” she continues, reaching out for Wren’s hand.
“I saw them yesterday when she was lifting something. Her sleeve pulled up. I prayed for her all night. I’m glad she found the strength to seek help.
I won’t tell a soul, and we won’t let him take you from us.
” My mother squeezes Wren’s hand tighter. “You belong to us now, like it or not.”
I’ve never heard words more truly spoken, though if my mother knew the thoughts I was having about this woman, I doubt her arms would be as open.
“You’re going to be okay, trust me. It’ll be hard for a while, then you’ll find your footing and life will start to look bright again.
” My mother nudges her arm. “Plus, we can set you up with all the singles here at the church. There’s a singles meeting that happens once a month if you’re interested. ”
My stomach tightens. “I don’t think she’s interested, Mom.”
“Well, she might be, honeybun. You never know. Some women need the strong arms of another man to get through it.” She grins. “Right, Wren?”
“Maybe.” Wren smirks and glances toward me quickly. “I do like men with strong arms.”
You filthy, filthy girl. My cock jumps against my zipper and I have to turn away to gather myself again.
“You know,” my mother continues, “I have space at my house if it’s too cramped here.”
“Oh, thank you. That would be lovely, but I couldn’t impose,” Wren says sweetly. “I think tonight I’m going to…” She pauses as though she’s not sure what she’s going to do.
“It’s not an imposition, assuming you don’t mind baking some more of those cupcakes for me. I have a sweet tooth, and I’ve been kicking myself for not buying more before they sold out.”
“Oh,” Wren grins, “the cupcakes are nothing. What you want are my apple cinnamon scones. I use this glaze that leaves the whole house smelling like fall.”
“Yes!” my mother says. “You’re right, I do want some of those.”
“Well,” I clear my throat and insert myself into the conversation, “Wren and I will stop by tonight and you two can bake together, but for now, she’s staying with me. We have work to do.”
“He’s very protective of his flock. What did I tell you?” My mother leans into me for a hug. “Tough guy with a sweet, little, honeybun heart.”
The door opens and more volunteers flood inside.
Wren offers me half a smile then launches into action. “We’re going to have our meeting out on the back lawn if that’s okay. There’s so much sun today. We should enjoy it before the snow starts flying again.”
Everyone nods and follows that sweet lamb whose ass I’m not supposed to notice right out into the yard.
God, how am I going to take her to my mother’s house tonight to bake scones? How am I supposed to laugh with her, have dinner with her, and show her through my childhood home? How can I do those things and not want to keep her?
I kneel again at the altar and stare up at the cross. I pray for guidance, I pray for Wren, and I pray for control, but again, the only voice I hear is my own.