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"That guy's a dick," she says to me, surprising the hell out of me.
"How did he know you?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know. I've seen him with Father Murphy in passing. He must have recognized me."
"He wants you," I say to her.
She nods her head. "Yes."
"I'd kill him before I let him ever touch you again," I find myself saying, which is so out of character for me. I'm the cleaner. I clean things. I've never liked killing things. That's why I do what I do and not what others in the organization do.
"Yes."
Her acknowledgement hangs thick in the air between us. I move in closer to her, pressing my body against hers. Her curves compress against my harder frame and she really does feel like Heaven on Earth.
"I want you," I say to her.
"Yes." Her response is breathless and full of promise.
My fingers start to trail against her exposed thigh, touching the skin that Declan was staring at all night. I move slowly. With every inch further that I ascend, my soul drops 1,000 feet closer to Hell.
My fingers are finally between her thighs, grazing the outside of her lace panties. She's wet and warm and full of promise. My fingers pull aside her panties. We're both breathing heavily, our breaths mingling together, but neither of us can seem to move the final inch to seal the kiss.
I start to touch her and she arches her head back. She's so unbelievably sensitive.
"How long has it been?" I whisper against her cheek as I continue to caress her lightly.
"Years," she says to me.
"Even by yourself?" I ask.
"Yes," she says.
My finger is dangerously close to entering her. My cock is hard in a way that almost hurts. The devil inside of me is telling me to turn her around and give her the fucking she's clearly longing for out in public against this brick wall.
I want to claim her.
Fuck her.
Ownher.
Body and soul.
Just as I'm about to sink one finger into her beautiful pussy, I find myself pulling away. Guilt washes over me like a tidal wave for what I'm doing. I don't give a shit about my own soul. That's already long gone.
What I do care about is hers. I can't be the person that makes her break her vows.
"I can't do this," I say. "I'm sorry."
ChapterTwenty
I stand motionless, utterly shocked by what just happened. I've spent almost a decade trying to get Teddy out of my system. Sinful fantasies of us kissing, revisiting the passion we once shared together, were something I frequently prayed over. I feel torn between my desire and my shame.
"I'm sorry," Teddy says to me again.
His hands are still touching me, but he's still. His fingers remain between my thighs. I can feel his touch against my wetness, but he's not moving.
"I don't know what you're doing to me," he says and I can hear the pain in his voice.
