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“I…I like to flirt. I like to be mouthy. Outrageous. But I…”
Plum sighed and hoped this wouldn’t go sideways. She didn’t want to be Not-All-Men-ed by the guy who had a foot and about fifty pounds on her, nor was she interested in getting lectured by a patriarchy apologist who had her surrounded by his muscular body. On the other hand, better to find out now if he was a dickhead than to delude herself with more fantasies so she went ahead.
“Men can be creepy assholes. But you’re a priest. Even if you wanted those things you couldn’t do anything about it because you’re a devout man who loves his job and takes his commitment to his faith and his church very seriously. You seemed…safe.”
“Do I still seem safe?”
“Yes,” she answered with no hesitation because he did, especially after not arguing with her about a not insignificant proportion of his gender. If she said stop, she knew deep down he’d stop. He wasn’t here to rape her, assault her. He was here to play a game. A game she was enjoying, very much.
“Good. I hope that won’t change after I tell you…”
A frisson of poignant lust ran down her spine as Father Gideon ghosted his lips down her nape.
“I’m an Anglican priest. Which means all those filthy things you’ve said to me, all those naughty things you’ve described, every carnal act you’ve detailed—I can do all those things. And, if you wish, I can do them with you.”
