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“Sorry.” I step back, scratching the back of my head. “I really need to get out of the habit of saying that. Especially with our trip two days away.”
She places her hands on her hips. “I’m a grown woman, Brandon. I’m not offended by a little dirty talk.”
I frown at her and open my mouth to speak, but she raises her hand to halt me. That adorably playful smile tugs at her lips. “We don’t need to go over it again, though you do look like you’re about to scold me like the stern boss daddy you are.”
My gut clenches, and I let out a groan. “Mari, please. Don’t call me Daddy.”
She sighs. “I won’t. We need to get back to the game before Sofia starts getting suspicious. You don’t have anything to fear from me. I’ll be a saint at the pastor conference.”
As she walks slowly back to Sofia and Zac, the fight seems to have left her body, which leaves me dejected.
I’m two people at once. One who wants this pastor retreat to come and go without ever coming close to touching Mariana again.
The other is a devil.
He wants to fuck her raw all weekend long.
ChapterEighteen
Mariana
The morning sun casts long shadows across the empty church parking lot. When I step out of my car, the cool morning air makes me shiver. My gaze falls on Brandon. He’s waiting for me by his Audi, and my heart flutters at the sight.
Such a daddy.
He stands tall and imposing, his deep-brown eyes narrowing as he takes in my appearance. His jaw is tight, and his gaze lingers on the contours of my body revealed by the form-fitting tank top. A wave of delightful defiance washes over me.
I didn’t dress sexy on purpose. I can’t help it if he likes what he sees.
“Well, you’re dressed comfortably,” he says, his voice low and tight.
A teasing smirk tugs at my lips. He’s not even trying to hide the fact that his eyes are on my tits right now. His stern gaze makes my heart race, but I refuse to let him see how much it turns me on.
If he wants polite distance, I’ll give it to him.
“It’s a four-hour drive,” I say. “Would you prefer I dress uncomfortably?”
His expression shutters. “No…but I’m going to be introducing you to a group of pastors. I’d prefer you be dressed professionally so they don’t think—” His lips close.
My smile grows. “Don’t think what?”
He lets out a long sigh. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be commenting on the way you’re dressed.” He flinches. “It’s sexist.”
“It’s okay. I should have worn a bra.”
His teeth clench, and I have to fight the smile rising to my lips as I hand him a stainless-steel mug filled with hot coffee. “Black and strong as gasoline. Just the way you like it. I’ve also loaded up some history podcasts for the drive.”
His brows lift at that. “What kind of history?”
Lightness fills my chest. My friends and family groan whenever I suggest listening to history podcasts on a road trip, but Brandon loves history as much as I do.
Ugh. I’m actually excited to spend the next four hours alone in a car with him, and it fucking sucks.
I’ll never have him all to myself again after this trip.
“You’re going to lose your mind over one of the podcasts I found,” I say. “It’s all about the badass women in the Bible. We’ve got Esther, Mary Magdalene, Bathsheba… My role models growing up. Bunch of strong-willed hoes, just like me.”
He chuckles. “The strong-willed hoes of the Bible,” he says under his breath. “You’re so cute, Mariana.”
