“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you, Father. I . . .” Her voice drops to a mere whisper. She regards me with big eyes glistening with hope and anxiety. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“You’re not disturbing me, Sage. Come in.” I should go to her. Perhaps escort her into the office, but I can’t. My legs don’t work, and it appears my brain has also short-circuited.
When she closes the door, I can’t help the heat coursing through my veins. She approaches me, and a faint fragrance of apples invade my senses. It reminds me of a happy day I’d spent in an orchard with the woman I was convinced I would marry. And instead of being annoyed with Sage for bringing back that memory, I’m glad because I want to associate that scent with her. The sweet, lingering fragrance.
I want to revel in it. I ache to collapse with desire at her feet. To taste her skin. Shaking my head of the wayward thoughts, I nod. Gesturing to the chair. “Please sit down. What can I do for you?”
When I settle behind the desk, I meet her gaze. It’s filled with trepidation, then changes. “I know what happened this morning. It’s been weighing on me. On my mind. What you did in there. I did it as well.”
Her confession startles me.
Wordless.
Senseless.
I’m so screwed.
Sage
He stares at me for so long. Too long.
The embarrassment heating my cheeks is too much to bear. The man I’ve been fantasizing about for months knows I’ve touched myself thinking of him. I planned to walk in here and beg him to take me, but the moment his green eyes pin me, I’m speechless.
I may be a naughty girl, but this time, I’m as nervous as I was the first time I kissed a boy. As if I’m thirteen again, and he’s just out of my league.
“I . . . ,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. “I don’t think you should be here. It’s better if you leave. I can’t . . . I don’t . . .” His denial burns with lies. I take a step forward and notice how his eyes trail from my ballet flats up my jean-clad legs until they reach my breasts. The top I’m wearing is loose-fitting, so I know he can’t see my hardened nipples. When he looks at me again, I smile.
“You can’t deny the pull. Do you disagree with what I feel? Were you not turned on by me earlier?” My question stills him for a moment before I feel the electric current in the air between us. Yes, it’s wrong to taunt him, but I can’t help myself. I settle on the chair opposite his desk, crossing one leg over the other, causing his gaze to drop to my legs once more.
He doesn’t respond, but those lust-filled orbs are glued to the curve of my form. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be sitting here seducing the priest who’s been teaching us about living a Christian life for the past few months. The shepherd herding his flock. The only problem with this little lamb is she’s left the rest behind. She’s the black sheep.
I’ve never been a good girl. I never prayed like my mom and dad taught me to. And now, as I sit here, as wrong as it is, I’m wet for him. I want to be with him. Those eyes that remind me of a forest are deep green pools of need. The same emotions that match mine. The stubble darkening his jaw makes my mind race with images of his mouth on my core. My inner thighs tingling from the scratchy beard. His tousled chocolate hair that I’m dying to tangle my fingers through looks as if he’s been tugging at it.
Squirming in my seat, I watch him shift in his leather chair. “Sage, you’re a beautiful girl. I’m sure there are boys—”
“That’s the problem, Father Reid. I don’t want boys. I . . .” Pushing up off the chair, I round the desk in a few short steps. My eyes lock on the window which overlooks the garden, and a plan formulates in my mind. My gaze darts around the greenery, the plush verdant growth, and I make my decision. With my heart racing, hammering wildly against my ribcage, I utter the words, “I want you.” I confess. Again. Not meeting his gaze, instead looking at the peacefulness and serenity outside. The tranquility. Silence surrounds us like a thick fog. Heavy with understanding, but burning with lust.
“Why?” His voice is raspy when he voices his question. Just one word. Honestly, I’m not sure what to tell him. When I walked into the church today, I wanted to come in here and seduce him. As bad as that is, I couldn’t take the tension that seemed to emanate from him each time I’m around. After our confessional orgasm this morning, I knew for sure he wanted me.