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Qualifications?
If it hadn’t been for my parents and Eric stepping in my way, I’d have experience at a law firm. I may have my degree, but what use is it if I’ve got no experience?
“I’m a waitress,” I lie, shaking my head. “I know there’s a diner, bar, and coffee shop, and I hoped?—”
“It’s difficult to find an opening, I’m afraid, but you can try.” She sets her hand on my wrist. “Do you have a backup plan?”
I nod. “I’ve got money if I need to get by for a while.” I realize a girl my age wouldn’t normally have money, so I lie. “My parents left me some inheritance.”
My parents wouldn’t give me shit. After all, they’re the ones who gave me away to Eric, my husband, to settle a debt. The money is Eric’s. It’s one of the reasons he’s so angry because I stole from him and took off on our wedding night before he could touch me.
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss,” she says, squeezing my arm.
I smile at her. “Thank you.” I glance at my watch. “We best find our seats because the sermon will start soon. It was nice to meet you.”
She nods. “Of course.”
I walk away and find a seat near the back, hoping to remain inconspicuous. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. It’s how I’ve spent my life since I ran from my husband, hiding in the shadows.
My heart is pounding hard as I search the room of churchgoers, looking for the priest. A man who was so kind to me last night and who I’ve got a secret crush on. As if on cue, he walks up to the altar and opens the bible.
I’m mesmerized by him, struggling to keep my mind out of the gutter as he flexes the muscles he hides beneath those robes. And then, he looks up, and his eyes connect with mine instantly, sending my heart rate spiraling out of control.
A flash of fire enters those beautiful dark brown eyes while he holds my gaze. It’s a stare that sets my very soul on fire. The kind of stare a priest shouldn’t give any woman. I wonder momentarily if I’m imagining how he looks at me.
I bite my bottom lip, knowing I’ll combust into flames at any moment if I don’t break his gaze.
When his tongue darts out over his bottom lip, I’m pretty sure I’m about to die. The thoughts it conjures to my mind about him between my thighs should be fucking illegal in a church. It’s official. I’m going to hell because I can’t stop thinking about getting down and dirty with a priest. Even though I’ve never had sex with anyone, much to my ex’s disgust.
Finally, he breaks the gaze and clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to the front.
“Good morning, and thank you for joining me for my Sunday sermon,” he says, that velvety rich voice carrying through the church.
I clench my thighs and focus on the man who ignited the ache between them. This will be a long and torturous sermon, and the thoughts I’m having are bad enough to send me straight to the gates of hell.
But I can’t help myself. As the sermon continues, I’m too caught up in my fantasies of him to focus on what he’s saying. I picture him with his robes cast aside and his muscled body moving against mine, skin sliding against skin as he whispers sinful promises in my ear before capturing my lips in a deep kiss.
I imagine us fucking against the altar, our moans echoing throughout the church while God looks down upon us with a disapproving glare. But then those wonderfully dark eyes meet mine again, and all thoughts of what is and isn’t appropriate fly away.
Even so, I know that he’s a priest no matter what and would never break that vow he’s made to God.
It may be bad to imagine, but it’s not a sin if I don’t act. Right?
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I shamelessly replay the fantasy over in my head, not listening to a word he’s saying. I fear attending church in this town will be my favorite pastime.
3
DANTE
My mind isn’t on this fucking sermon. The passages from the Bible roll off my tongue with careful precision, but my mind is in the gutter. Madison is here. My obsession. I only met her last night, and I already got an old contact to find everything he could dig up on her.
She’s a ghost. No records.
Either her name isn’t Madison Danes as she claims, or someone very powerful is after her, and they’ve sealed her records.
There she sits at the back of my church. I might be imagining it, but it looks like she’s eye fucking me from back there. And it’s probably my unhinged mind making it up. I want her like I’ve never wanted a girl. I’ve been going out of my mind, fantasizing about all the dirty things I want to do to her. She’s mine, and yet I can’t have her. Not unless I want to forsake my vows.
But I’m this fucking close to doing that after one conversation with her. God knows what could happen if I get to know her better. She’ll be riding my cock on the fucking altar before long.
