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Leaning against the door, she shrugs. “Some days are good. Some are bad.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you this week. I should’ve stayed.”
“You had family business, too. I understand.” Sauntering across the room, she sets my heart pounding inside my ribs as she approaches my desk and rounds it, making for the window on the other side. “I can’t stop thinking of him.”
I frown at that, my gaze dipping to see her nylons do, in fact, have the black line up the calf. “Thinking of him in what way?”
Without turning to face me, she keeps her gaze cast toward the window. “In the way you said I would. Dreaming of him. Hearing his voice. I’m so paranoid, I’ve come back here three times this week to make sure he didn’t crawl out of that hole.”
“Ivy, you can’t keep coming back here. Someone could be watching you without your awareness.”
She finally turns to face me. “Someone like who?”
“Calvin had a lot of contacts. I’m certain some of them will begin asking questions. Snooping around.”
“And if they come after me? What then?”
It’s lack of strength that guides my eyes down her legs and back again. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You’ve been gone all week. It could’ve happened already.”
“I’m here now.”
“And what will you do, Damon?” She saunters up to me, and on instinct, my gaze shoots to the door to make sure she’s closed it. Blood red fingertips slide down the front of my shirt, reminding me what I’ve missed the last few days. “Will you sleep in my bed every night? Or keep me locked away in the rectory?”
“If necessary, yes.” I like this little game we play, just not here.
Her nails run over the back of my neck, and I stiffen at the thought of them scoring my sweat-drenched spine. “What if we get caught?”
Snatching up her wrist, I feel her pulse thrumming against my fingertips. “We won’t.” The words hardly slip through my clenched teeth, as I fight to keep my composure around this woman. It’s her grandmother’s funeral, after all.
“I missed you.” Head resting against my chest, she reaches down and strokes the front of my slacks. “Oh, Father, I can’t tell you how much I missed you this week.”
“Ivy.” My voice carries a warning as weak as my resolve to fuck her right here in my office. “This isn’t the time.”
“It’s the perfect time. I’ve been so desperate for distraction. And now you’re here.” She pulls back the veil of her hat, beneath which those bright ruby lips beg for a kiss. Damn this woman. Damn her. “So distract me, Father.”
“You’re practically begging to get caught.”
“And you’re practically begging to fuck me. I can see it in your eyes.” Her lips brush against my earlobe, teeth scraping over my skin. “Did I mention I’m not wearing any panties?”
It’s impossible to stifle the shiver that vibrates down to my bones, at the visual she’s planted in my head. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you. What if I hadn’t shown up today?”
“You promised. And I know you’re a man of your word. But I’m sure Ruiz would’ve been happy to—”
I slap my palm over her mouth, furious at the thought of another man’s hands on her, even one as unlikely as Ruiz. “You want me to commit a sin, right here in the church? To soil the very desk I’ve used to uphold my vows?”
Her eyes don’t waver as she breathes hard through her nose.
I lower my hand from her mouth, practically tasting those lips on mine.
“Tell me that doesn’t turn you on, and I’ll leave.”
It takes all my strength not to throttle this woman. This beautiful, exotic creature who excites me in ways I don’t dare admit aloud. Not here.
Without a word, I reach up under her skirt, eyes furious and burning as I stare into hers, and I nearly buckle when I run my finger across the apex of her thighs to find she wasn’t lying about the panties. Wadding a handful of the nylon material in my palm, I yank hard enough to hear them tear and her lips part, then stretch to a wicked smile. Through the hole in her nylons I dip my finger knuckle deep, greeted by the wet slick that coats my skin on the withdrawl. Across from me, the crucifix hangs on the wall, the weary eyes of Jesus watching me, as I push my fingers up inside of her again. And again. And again.
Her moans and choked breaths, eyes hooded with lust, urge me on, confirming what I already know: I cannot deny this woman, even when my virtue and character are at stake. “Please, Father. Fuck me.”
