Chapter Eight #2
“She has a thing for everyone.”
“Especially you,” I say, the last bite of my bear claw at my lips. “The last thing you need is some weird scandal because you’re helping me out.”
Father Anderson stares out at the lake as though he’s contemplating the universe. Maybe he is. We are here for morning reflection. I’m probably annoying him with all my random talking.
The waves lap the shore, and a few late season wildflowers blow in the breeze as the sun illuminates the turquoise lake. I have a lot to reflect on as well, like what exactly my life looks like now that I’ve separated myself from Zane.
Where do I go long term? What do I do? How do I keep my family safe from him and whatever retaliation he’ll most definitely pursue?
Maybe I’m overthinking it all. Maybe he’ll be glad to get rid of me.
It’s not like he enjoyed me much. There was always something he was being passive-aggressive about.
I miss the woods too much. I spend too much money.
I bake too many high calorie treats. I don’t dress in bright enough colors. My hair isn’t blonde. I could go on.
I guess it’s why it’s felt so good to talk to Father Anderson, and to feel like someone likes me for a change.
“Wren,” Father Anderson sighs, and I glance toward him in time to see a visible lump travel down his throat, “I should tell you something.”
Oh man, priests are psychic. Somehow, he knows I had that dream about him. He knows the filthy things I’ve been thinking.
“Yeah?”
I swear I can hear his heart beating from here. Waves lap against the shore, a gull flies low, and I think the leaves change color as I wait for him to respond.
“There’s something about you. You’re strong and smart, but you’re also shy and funny. I don’t meet people like that a lot.”
My chest tightens. “Really? Out of all the people in your parish, you’ve never met a person who doesn’t know what they want?”
He shakes his head and bites back a grin. “What are you talking about? You know what you want.”
“Do I? I’m baking cupcakes, I’m running from my problems, and I let some man treat me like trash for years. How does any of that sound like I know what I want?”
He turns toward me, the white-capped mountains set behind him.
“You left him. It doesn’t matter how long it took.
You left, and that’s what matters. How can you say you don’t know what you’re meant to do?
I saw the pride you had when everyone was enjoying your food yesterday.
You genuinely like making people happy, and there aren’t a lot of people like that.
That’s why I need to be honest with you. ”
My cheeks heat as I hold my gaze toward the rippling turquoise lake. “Honest about what?”
Something bad is coming, I can feel it!
He opens his mouth to speak, then scrubs his hand over his jaw before finally saying, “I… had impure thoughts about you. Thoughts I’ve never had in my life.”
My clit pulses and my heart rockets up at least twenty-six thousand notches. “What?”
“I know it’s unholy and I’ve been praying about it, but last night after the potluck, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your body.”
I swallow hard. His admission shouldn’t be making me want him more, but it is. Leanne was right, Father Anderson has needs like every other man. “My body?”
“This is terrible timing. I’m sorry I’m doing this here, where you can’t get away. I should’ve thought that through.”
“It’s okay. I’m not scared. What kind of thoughts did you have about my body?” My groin sparkles as the question leaves my lips.
“I enjoyed our conversation in the confessional, and I prayed you’d come back for guidance, but that prayer was selfish because really, I wanted to see you.
And when you came back… every hormone in my body that’s been sleeping woke up.
” He sighs a centering sigh. “Last night I had an impure dream about you.”
I blink once, wondering if this is actually happening.
“What happened in the dream?” I whisper, the words catching in my throat as my pussy pulses against the rocky shore.
His shoulders rise as he draws in a deep breath. “It was a very sexual dream, Wren. I’m not proud of it.”
I should nod. I should just nod. Clearly, he doesn’t want to get into the details of the dream. My brain, though, has other motives.
“What kind of sexual things?” I press, my gaze dropping to his lips for a moment before refocusing on his dark eyes.
He stares up toward the sky and whispers something under his breath, as though he’s asking forgiveness, before he glances back toward me with a darker look in his gaze.
“I dreamt that you were half naked in the rectory. That I tore off that little dress you wore yesterday and bent you over the back of my desk. I dreamt that I fucked you so hard that you gripped the edges of the wood and begged me to go harder and harder until I came. I woke up with sticky sheets. That’s why I was in the shower so late, and why I changed the bedding before you laid down. ”
Okay, now my panties are soaked!
“I’m sorry I had these thoughts. I felt you needed to know the truth before you trusted me with any more of your feelings.”
“I have something I should confess too.” I wet my lips and narrow my gaze as I stare at the broad-shouldered priest with ink streaking down both arms. “I had an impure dream in your bed.”
He clears his throat and resituates himself on the stones as he looks at me. “What did you dream?”
He could’ve said anything right then, but he asked to know about the dream.
He wants to know my filthy thoughts. What I think of him. What I want him to do to me.
“I dreamt that you had those big hands on my hips, that you took me, that you fucked me hard and fast, that you growled out like an animal as you emptied yourself inside.”
He nods slowly, his eyelids heavy, a new look on his face that’s more carnal than before, like he’s struggling with losing control. “Did you leave satisfied?”
“I came all over your cock,” I bite back a smile, “though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wake up this morning with an ache I don’t know how to satisfy.”
Another nod falls. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t frustrated by that same ache.”
He brushes his hand against the side of my face, his fingers gently moving my hair. “We better go before I do something I should regret.”
Should regret.
Not something we would regret.
Should.
I nod and stand from the sand, my pussy sopping wet as I stare at the super-hot, silver fox, biker priest, more sins rattling through my brain than ever before.