Chapter 10
Mike
Oh, sweet baby Jesus… why was I still rock hard?
You’d think, after I’d been yelled at by Cash and he’d practically slammed his door in my face, that the mood would be shot.
But I found the situation to be exactly the opposite.
I was standing there, in the hallway, my dick painfully hard in my jeans, practically drooling over this grumpy asshole that had just told me to piss off.
What was wrong with me?
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, trying to get my breathing under control.
The image of Cash standing before me completely naked, water droplets sliding down that perfect chest, trailing through the dark hair that led to his thick, half-hard cock.
.. God help me, I couldn’t banish it from my mind.
I should have been offended by his crudeness. Should have been put off by his anger and hostility. Instead, I was achingly hard and fighting the urge to follow him into his bedroom.
“Get it together, Mike,” I whispered to myself, pressing the heel of my palm against my erection.
I stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. The mirror reflected a man I barely recognized. I had flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and my hair was mussed from running my fingers through it too many times. I looked... desperate. Hungry.
The bathroom still smelled like him, that intoxicating mix of soap and raw masculinity.
Steam lingered on the mirror, and I could see where his hand had wiped a clear spot.
Had he looked at himself and planned this whole encounter?
Had he deliberately dropped that towel, knowing exactly what it would do to me?
Of course he had. Cash wasn’t subtle about his intentions. He was playing with me, toying with my desires like a cat with a mouse. And God forgive me, I was letting him.
I turned on the cold water and splashed my face, trying to cool the heat that had settled in my skin. It didn’t help. Nothing would help except...
No. I couldn’t go there. I was a pastor, for heaven’s sake. I had responsibilities, a congregation that trusted me. I couldn’t give in to temptation just because a handsome, damaged man was deliberately trying to seduce me.
But as I dried my face with a towel, maybe the same one Cash had just used, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. Every interaction between us pushed me closer to the edge, and sooner or later, I was going to fall.
I left the bathroom on unsteady legs and retreated to my study, the one place in the house that felt truly mine. I needed to focus on something else, anything else. There was sermon preparation to do, calls to make about the rebuilding efforts.
Instead, I found myself staring blankly at the wall, replaying every moment with Cash in vivid detail. The way his eyes had darkened when he looked at me. The slight smirk that tugged at his lips when he caught me staring. The taste of his cock on my lips that night in the living room.
“Focus,” I muttered, pulling out my Bible and flipping to a random page. My eyes landed on a verse from Proverbs: “Like a city whose walls are broken through is a person who lacks self-control.”
I slammed the book shut. Even Scripture was mocking me now.
A knock at the study door made me jump. I quickly arranged myself behind the desk, hoping it would hide my persistent arousal.
“Come in,” I called, my voice steadier than I felt.
The door opened, and Cash leaned against the frame, now dressed in jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that hugged his broad chest. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends.
“Sorry about earlier,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly sorry. “I don’t like people trying to psychoanalyze me.”
I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral even though I felt as if I was going to explode. “I understand. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
He studied me for a moment, those green eyes searching my face. “What are you working on?”
“Sermon prep,” I lied, gesturing vaguely at the closed Bible.
Cash stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. My heart rate doubled instantly.
“You know what I think?” he said, moving closer to the desk. “I think you’re hiding in here because you can’t handle being around me.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s not true.”
“No?” He circled the desk slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. “Then why are you gripping that desk like it’s the only thing keeping you upright?”
I hadn’t realized my knuckles had gone white against the wood. I forced myself to relax my grip, but it was too late. He’d seen right through me.
“Now you’re analyzing me,” I said, forcing a weak smile.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Cash,” I said, my voice embarrassingly soft, “what do you want from me?”
He stopped beside my chair, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “I’ve made it pretty clear what I want.” His voice dropped to that low, gravelly register that sent shivers down my spine. “Question is, do you have the balls to admit what you want?”
I should have stood up, put distance between us. Should have reminded him that I was his host, his pastor. Should have maintained some semblance of professional boundaries.
Instead, I just looked up at him, fear making my voice tremble. “I can’t do that, Cash.”
“Can’t be gay and a pastor?” he scoffed.
“It’s not that,” I replied quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was prejudice or anything. “Well, to be honest, that’s about ten percent of the problem. I’m new in this town and I want people to welcome me before I start challenging some of their viewpoints.”
Cash shrugged that bit of information off and got right to the heart of the matter. “What’s the other ninety then?”
I stared up at him, the truth tumbling from my lips before I could stop myself. “Last time I let myself do this… it cost me… a lot.”
“Let yourself do what? Fuck?”
“Get involved with someone I want to fix.”
Cash made a face and took a step back. Clearly that wasn’t the answer he was expecting.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” I added quickly, knowing how it sounded. “But I can see you’re hurting. Everyone can. You have a wound a mile deep and… God help me, all I want to do is make it better for you.”
“I don’t need savin’, Pastor,” he grunted, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m just fine on my own.”
“Then why are you in my study?” I pushed back. “If you’re so good on your own, why do you keep tormenting me?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I… I told you. I’m horny. That’s all. And I’ve got nothin’ better to do while I’m here. Besides, you’re… well…”
“Convenient?” I offered.
“I was goin’ to say beautiful,” he corrected. “But you’re not wrong either.”
I felt my heart stutter at that. Beautiful? No one had called me that before. Handsome, sure. Attractive, occasionally. But beautiful? The word hung in the air between us, softening something in my chest that I’d been trying desperately to keep at bay.
“You think I’m beautiful?” I whispered, hating how vulnerable I sounded.
Cash’s eyes darkened, and he leaned down, one hand bracing against the desk. “Don’t act surprised. You know exactly what you look like.”
His face was inches from mine now, close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. My resolve was crumbling with every passing second.
“This is a bad idea,” I murmured, even as my eyes dropped to his mouth.
“Probably,” he agreed, his voice rough with desire. “But you want it anyway.”
God help me, I did. I wanted him more than I’d wanted anyone in a long time. The air between us crackled with tension, my body leaning toward his of its own accord.
“I shouldn’t—”
“Stop overthinking it,” Cash growled, and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was nothing like I expected. I thought he’d be rough, demanding, taking what he wanted without consideration. Instead, his lips moved against mine with a surprising gentleness, questioning rather than claiming. It was somehow more devastating than if he’d devoured me whole.
I made a soft sound in the back of my throat, my hands coming up to grip his shirt. He tasted like mint toothpaste. My lips parted beneath his, inviting him deeper.
Cash took the invitation eagerly, his tongue sliding against mine as the kiss turned hungry. His hand moved to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair and tugging just enough to make me gasp.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my mouth. “God, I want to destroy you.”
“Destroy me?” I said, my voice barely audible.
He pulled back slightly, his green eyes searching mine. “Yeah. I want to fuck you so good that you never forget me. That, for the rest of your life, no matter what happens, you always remember who gave it to you best.”
I nodded, unable to deny that it was exactly what I wanted. “Oh God… I… I do want that.”
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face, and he straightened up, taking a step back. “Good to know you feel that way, Pastor.”
The sudden loss of contact left me disoriented. I blinked up at him, confused by the shift in his demeanor. “Cash?”
“Now who’s the one beggin’?” he drawled, satisfaction evident in his tone.
Realization dawned on me. This was still part of his game. He wasn’t just looking for a quick fuck. He wanted me to come crawling to him, desperate and pleading. My face flushed with embarrassment and renewed arousal.
“You’re an asshole,” I said, rock hard and furious.
“Never claimed otherwise.” He winked, backing toward the door. “I’ll leave my room unlocked tonight if you feel like gettin’ on your knees.”
Then he was gone, leaving me alone with swollen lips and an ache that went deeper than any physical desire.
I collapsed back in my chair, touching my fingers to my mouth. The taste of him lingered there, a reminder of what I’d allowed to happen. What I wanted to happen again.
“Lord, give me strength,” I whispered to the empty room.
But I knew, with a certainty that should have terrified me, that my strength was already gone. Cash Callahan had walked into my life like a storm, destroying all my careful boundaries and leaving me in ruins.
And the worst part? I couldn’t wait to see what he’d destroy next.