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She’d listened to Eric—it was a relief that he was on her side and willing to help her deal with their family because she sure as hell didn’t want to do it alone.
Feeling overwhelmed, Emelia dropped into the chair that Eric had vacated and curled up to gaze out the window. She was on a high floor and the view over snowy Lexington was beautiful with the mountains in the background, but her mind drifted back to the night before.
How could it not when she’d touched Dante in a way that she’d craved for so long?
Her Dante was beautiful and sexy. His body was toned, which she’d been able to make out through his dark chest hair that led to the hardness of his groin. She’d never seen anyone so hard before. She chuckled, she hadn’t seen anyone nude before so what was she thinking? Dante was the first man for her to see nude, and she couldn’t get the image out of her head—she didn’t want to.
His penis had risen, hard and thick, from the thatch of dark hair that lightly covered his groin and balls, and it had reached past his navel. She wet her lips as she remembered the silky feel of the hardness beneath her fingers, and the taste of him as he’d released in her mouth.
She prayed with everything that she had she would get the chance to be with him again, and that he’d be sober because she wanted him to remember her touch. She wanted him to remember the pleasure that he gave her by allowing her hands and mouth on him.
All she could hope for was that Dante didn’t remember last night until she’d had the chance to talk to her mom, and everyone finally knew what she knew. Otherwise, it would be even more difficult for him to handle than anything else.
Chapter Eleven
“Father, you have to do something about them. I find it embarrassing. Don’t you?” Barbara asked, her hands on her ample hips while she stared at him across the kitchen table.
Dante sighed heavily and knew, although, Barbara found the women embarrassing, that she also found them amusing. The rest of his congregation probably did as well.
Shaking his head, he pulled out the chair in front of him. Once he was sitting, he helped himself to a fresh coffee, wishing it were something stronger, and finally met Barbara’s angry gaze. “I try to avoid conflict, or rather that kind of conflict, the best I can. You know that.”
“But Father, they will continue to come here unless you say something. It’s best taking the bull by the horns, and getting it over and done with. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
He already regretted being friendly to the two M&M’s, as Barbara liked to call them. He hadn’t been overly friendly, just the same as how he was with the other parishioners. The only difference was that they’d taken it to mean that the priest had a case of forbidden lust for them, and had kicked up their game of trying to get him alone.
The only person he’d ever had a case of lust for was well and truly out of bounds, which was why for the past two weeks, since Ramon’s wedding, he’d avoided talking to Diego.
He’d been desperate to hear about Emelia’s date with a friend of her twin, but he’d forced himself to not think about it because he’d go totally insane if he did.
It wasn’t easy when his dreams at night starred Emelia. He felt her touch on his bare body all the way to his soul. He’d managed to wake himself up before the dreams had gone too far, but one day, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to bring himself to wake up until he’d seen where the dream took him. As it was, he’d wake up sporting an erection from hell with his balls aching for release—a release he hadn’t allowed himself since he’d become a priest.
“Father, are you still with me?”
He blinked a few times to rid himself of the images in his head because getting hard at his kitchen table, while talking to Barbara, wasn’t the best thing to do. Not only that, it was uncomfortable having the throb between his legs when he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m with you, and I’ll talk to them when I see them again.”
“Good.” She smiled. “Because they’ve just walked up to the front door.”
“Barbara,” he growled, and looked at her smug expression.
“Would you like me to get the door, Father.” She wiped her hands on a towel and watched him from the corner of her eye. She may be in her eighties but there was nothing wrong with her hearing or eyesight, unless she chose otherwise.
He rubbed a hand across his weary face and hid the smile at her antics. The last thing he needed her to see was his amusement.
“I’ll get the door.” He stood, and raised a brow at Barbara. “I do believe you were about to add buttercream to the cake...and don’t invite our guests to stay for tea and cakes...please.”
“I won’t, Father.”
He sighed as he made his way to the door because all he wanted was to be left alone. These days, he even struggled to get through Mass. His heart was heavy, his soul conflicted, that he didn’t feel like the right person to lead his congregation…and even if he was, the loss was so deep, he felt it in his bones…an exhaustion so great that he didn’t know how he could move forward.
And as he opened the front door, he wondered how long he’d be able to carry on being a priest in Frederick when he didn’t think his heart was in it anymore, which he’d never seen happening.
“Father,” the M&M’s gushed and stepped closer as though he was about to invite them inside, despite the fact that he blocked their entry.
“Hello ladies, what can I do for you?” He cringed inside at his open question.
“Could we come inside, Father? It’s cold out here,” Miranda asked. At least, he thought it was Miranda because he was so used to hearing M&M.
