AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The attraction between us is thick and impossible to deny. It’s the reason I’m not pulling my hand back. The reason he hasn’t either. The reason our gazes have collided and held.
Beside me, Sister Lupe clears her throat.
Sean’s face reddens even more. He springs back, nearly spilling his beans. He moves off with a gruffly mumbled, “Sorry, Sister. Sorry.”
No need to ask what he’s apologizing for. It’s obvious. One does not make lust-eyes at a nun.
2
SEAN
Face as hot as my assured eternal damnation, I practically run from the soup kitchen, making my way around the locals and refugees crowding the sidewalk. Did I just make eyes at a nun? Merciful heaven, I need to have sex. Been too long.
Likely, I’m destined for Hell. The Devil is probably preparing my bed right now.Here, boyo, lie down on this dry straw.Right smack dab in the middle of hellfire.
Not that any man wouldn’t have noticed her. She was so vibrant, so sexy, so… Good Lord, I’m doing it again!Stop it, daft bugger. There’s a line of thinking you need to step away from, drive away from, speed like hell fire away from.
Just hadn’t expected... skin as silky as the finest sheets. And her eyes, so direct, like she knew me. Like she wanted me. Like... she knew my soul is destined for Hell. Ach!
“Hold on, there. Hold on, please.”
The whisky voice slides into my stomach and warms it. That’s a good voice.
I turn. Bollocks. It’s her, jogging down the sidewalk, her breasts bouncing under her—
Nun tunic, you perv.
She slows, then points at my hands. “I’m sorry. You can’t take the tray.”
What? I glance down with dawning horror.Ach y fi. I’d been so determined to get out of there I’d forgotten. “Sorry, Sister...
“Desdemona. Dee for short.”
“Juan, Sister Dee,” I mumble, though I feel foolish lying to her about my name, as she’s spoken to me in English and can surely see I’m not from around here. I attempt to balance the tray and slip off my backpack.
“Just Dee,” she says, reaching forward. She licks her lips with a pink tongue. The pinkest tongue I’ve ever seen. “Let me hold it for you.”
Holdwhat?
Christ, man—thetray. She meansthe tray.
Hellfire. Think about that.
“Thanks, Sister.” I hand her the tray and take off my backpack. I’m fishing out containers when I spot Armand across the street, smoking a joint. I grind my teeth. This is Walid’s man. We’ve clashed many times since I’ve started making papers for Walid.
I can’t stand the bloke. Even at this distance, he exudes menace. The man has had it out for me for a long time, but the look he’s giving me now is pure hatred.
Not sure what I’ve done this time. In the past, he’s been bothered by the money I give to the poor, by the fact that I take food to my neighbor, by the fact that I refuse to do certain papers for his boss. If I weren’t so good at my job making global passports and visas, I’m sure he’d make me disappear.
He might just, judging by the look he’s giving me. I shrug it off because I’ve given up a lot of my morality in my search for Sofía and in my attempt to make up for the foolish chance I took starting an art class in an area that required an excess of caution, but I’m not going to give up on common decency.
I transfer the food from the tray. When done, Sister Dee smiles at me.
“I saw you play. Before your injury, I mean.”
Fuck. Balls. Fuck. I dare not glance back at Armand, not that he can hear from here, but it’s still not safe. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
Her smile widens, as if unbothered by my lie. Probably used to degenerates lying to her.
