Chapter 3

3

REED

F or such a smart man, I sure am pretty stupid a lot of the time. I’m playing dangerous games with forces far stronger than I care to imagine. Not God, mind you, but mafiosos and cops, all gunning for my head. Somehow, even with those real, tangible threats hanging over me, I’m acting as a vessel and messenger for a higher power who hasn’t done much in the way of helping me over the years.

Still, it’s gotten me closer to her. We’re so close together, separated by only a bronze letterbox opening and a thin sheet of grated plywood. She’s sitting on a flimsy wooden stool, her head pointed straight ahead and her eyes shut tight. Her breathing’s shaky, nervousness making her lower lip quiver, and I can tell whatever she’s about to say is meant for someone who’ll know how to help her.

A real priest with actual intent to rectify her sins. Not me, the lousy piece of shit preying on this town to get a shot at the sexy blonde.

“Before we begin, you know I’m new here, and I’d like to ingrain myself within the community as best I can. May I ask your name?” Yeah, that sounds good. A smooth way of asking for something so simple without sounding like a damned creep.

Even though that ship had sailed, I saw the way she looked at me while I fumbled to hide the erection bouncing against the thin material of my black cloak.

“Valerie,” she says.

“It’s nice to meet you, Valerie. Please continue.” I keep my voice calm against my mind and body’s racing.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Christ. Sorry, big man, I shouldn't be using your name in vain when I’m sitting in your house, but I’m sure you understand why those words make me go a little wild with the woman sitting next to me.

“Tell me, what have you done?” Those words feel pathetic, leaving my lips.

“I’ve engaged in the act of…” Her pause makes my heart quicken. What vile thing have you done to have to sit opposite me and ask God for forgiveness? She resonates purity, and I can’t imagine what she’s about to say holds a candle against the thunderstorm of bullshit I’ve done. “Lust.”

A choked cough fights its way out of my throat. Lust?

“Have you acted on them?” Now we’re getting somewhere.

“No, Father Murphy. They are acts of the mind.” Valerie speaks with confidence, as if what she’s confessing isn’t a point of shame but of pride instead.

I peer through the grated divider between us and see her there. Her hands meander across her body, fingers dancing over the silky fabric of her Sunday best.

“Dark, dirty thoughts. Being ravaged, taken, broken, and used,” she continues.

What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I can’t keep my thoughts straight when I look at her. How will I hold a conversation when she’s telling me the deepest, darkest desires burning in her mind?

“And who have these thoughts been about?” I ask. It seems like the correct response, only because I’m desperate to hear her answer. To see her plump lips mouth my name.

Valerie turns her body in my direction, scooching downward on her stool until she’s almost lying down. One of her hands stops on her breast, cupping the full mound and giving it a squeeze. The other glides down her belly, slipping between her thighs. The back of her wrist parts the fabric, hiding a thin pair of dark blue, sheer panties. The see-through fabric doesn’t do a thing to hide her bald cunt.

“You,” she whispers. “Filthy, vile thoughts of you. From the moment I saw you, I haven’t been able to strike them from my mind.”

Fierce heartbeats to pump blood straight to my cock in a tooth-aching erection. The intensity makes me lightheaded and leaves my throbbing member tearing at the zip of my trousers, begging to be set free.

“What thoughts?” Weak words leave my feeble lips. I’ve given up on the confessional parlor act. I don’t care if she figures out I’m not a priest because of it, either. I just need to hear what’s running through her mind while she touches herself without care.

“It might be easier if I just show you,” she says.

I can’t stop myself, allowing my hands to wander beneath my priestly vestments. I take a firm grasp of my cock over my pants and work the head with my palm while watching her work.

Valerie’s hand that traveled between her thighs tugs at the soaked fabric of her panties. They part from her skin, exposing her freshly shaven pussy. She glides her fingers along the length of her slit, and it gives no resistance with how wet she is.

She coos a soft moan. I drop off the thin piece of wood acting as a confessional chair, pressing my face against the grate to get a better look. All the while, Valerie doesn’t open her eyes. She’s lost in her own fantasies, touching and pleasing herself with reckless abandon.

“Do you want to touch me?” she whispers behind the choked noises of pleasure. “I want you to touch me.”

It’s do-or-die time, right? Go on with the bullshit of being the town priest or give in to her desires. Yeah, there’s no question about it. I’m throwing myself at her feet and worshiping halle-fucking-lujah.

I drop the bronze divider and shove my hand through it. The hand playing with her breasts reaches out to take it, and even with closed eyes, she latches onto me on the first try. Valerie doesn’t drive it down to her crotch, instead bringing it up to her lips. She kisses my knuckles, slow and tender, while moaning at the pleasure she delivers to herself. From the knuckles, she moves along my digits, ending at my fingertips. The tip of her tongue is first to come out, running along my skin before she sucks both my index and middle finger into her mouth.

She treats them to a show, licking and sucking on them, no doubt in the same way she would please my cock if it were in front of her instead.

The timid rubbing I enacted on my cock has moved to full-fledged stroking. Still through the pants for whatever it’s worth, but I’m too far gone to care about the ramifications of what’s happening.

Her tongue dances against my fingers, gliding between them until they’re soaked in her spit. Her free hand remains between her thighs, rubbing slow circles over her clit while she drags my hand down her body.

“I want to feel these strong hands inside of me,” she whispers, resting my hand on her thigh. “I want them to break my innocence and purify me from within.”

A pleased groan rolls through my chest.

“Will you do it for me, Father?”

“I’ll do anything you want me to.”

A satisfied smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Then do it.” Her words come out as an order.

Valerie thrusts her hips into the air, and with one swift motion, she drops her panties to her ankles. She holds that position while my soaked fingers dance across her silky-smooth skin.

I can’t stop myself from going all in. I press the two fingers she had in her mouth against her clit, taking over where she left off. I press down firmly and rotate against her nub, and her body instantly jerks in delight.

Her hands wander up my arm, and she moans in satisfaction, giving me free rein to do whatever I want to her. I glide my fingers between her folds, still stroking myself while I watch her exquisite breasts bounce with every spasm my touch brings.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

She nods, slow and determined, drawing in a deep breath. Still, those two blue orbs stay closed.

I start with one finger, the middle, prodding at her entrance. It’s a difficult task, trying to take it slow while she bucks her hips, and her slickness beckons it forward. But soon, she accepts the first finger. Her body shoots upright at the sensation, and a deep, longing moan escapes her lips. She slams her mouth shut with both palms while I move back and forth, deeper and deeper.

“Valerie?” a voice cries out in the church, and Valerie instantly recoils from my touch.

Whoever interrupted us better have a damn good reason for doing so.

“Is everything alright?” the same voice asks.

It’s the first time she opens her eyes, and her big blue orbs twinkle with a somewhat panicked gleefulness. She jumps to her feet and inspects me through the grated wood. Her teeth sink into her lower lip as her eyes scan me, resting for a long while on my exposed cock.

“Next time, I’m going to taste it,” I snarl and lick my lips at her pussy, so close behind the barricade.

“Next time you will,” she teases, shoving my hand back through the opening. “And you can punish me for being such a naughty girl.”

The words hit my heart like a dagger, and I fall back in wild astonishment. She’s the perfect firecracker for my time in Aurora. Hell, who am I kidding? She’s the woman I want to have at my side for the rest of this crazy journey we call life.

Her last act to ensure I’m hooked to her for good is bending over with her ass pointed at my face and the perfect view of her pink slit at eye level. She moves slowly, sinking to grab the panties pooled at her feet and lifting them slowly. Without another word, she steps out of the confessional booth.

“Yes, everything’s fine, Dad. We just finished,” Valerie’s voice echoes around the church.

Her father. Of course. I shouldn’t be surprised to realize the old man treating her to a dinner meal was a parent, yet somehow, I forgot parents were a concept. I guess my head isn’t in the right place now, anyway.

“Is Father Murphy coming?” Her dad asks.

“He’ll be right out.”

Right out? What? I can’t leave like this. Valerie seeing me play with my cock is bad enough, but walking up to her father red-faced and flustered will surely break the illusion I’m trying to conjure.

A smile cracks my nervous fidgeting to appear somewhat presentable. She’s going to be trouble, and I’m going to love every fucking second of it.

I take a moment to still myself, but it’s an almost impossible task with how close I came to blasting my seed over Valerie. Deep breaths are followed by my own haphazard attempt to fix my attire and hide my throbbing erection beneath my clothing.

When I think I’m ready to step out, I give myself an extra minute. Best way to avoid any awkwardness from an erection while we were meant to be speaking to God is to wait until it’s at a manageable size. More than anything, I’m hoping the few extra minutes I’m taking to get out is enough for them to get bored and leave.

To my immense displeasure, they’re still here. Valerie stands while her father sits in the pew beside her—a few rows back but not far enough from where I was sitting earlier.

“Father Murphy, I hope I didn’t intrude on Valerie’s confession. It’s just we need to get going,” he says as I reach them. Stern blue eyes stare me up and down, and he smirks on noticing the wet stains from where I spilled the wine.

Luckily, he has the good sense not to bring it up.

“No bother. None at all. But if you’re busy, I shouldn’t keep you. I hope to see you both here again next week,” I say, doing my best impression of what a priest should sound like. Sucks that my only references are from TV.

“About that…” Here it comes. An invitation to something I want no part of. Why else would he corner me this long after everyone’s gone home? “I’m hosting a little get-together for the football game tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to stop by, meet some of the townsfolk—well, the important ones at least—and get a sense for the community we’ve cultivated here.”

“The important ones?” I raise a quizzical brow. Nope. Bad idea. I’ve already stretched my luck far enough. You’re on the run for robbery, murder, and a whole heap of other shit…but then again, Valerie’s going to be there. Even now, while she hovers behind her father, those blue eyes gawk at me. They sink to my midsection, teeth digging into her plump lower lip, eager and excited for my cock. Fuck, here we go. “And what makes them important?”

“Oh, Father, I didn’t mean to offend you. We’re still merely people,” her dad turns his head to the wooden carving of Christ on the cross behind me. “It’s just going to be me, the mayor, and a couple of my buddies from the station.”

Station.

Police station, no doubt. There we go, there’s my answer. Turn around and run. I might want Valerie’s pussy smothering my face, but this is getting too hot, even for me.

“What time?” I ask. My logical mind is right, but it lost control as soon as I saw Valerie’s perfect body pinned up and soaking wet. “Oh, and what’s your name? Seems odd to come to your home when I don’t know what to call you.”

“Game starts at six, so we’ll be meeting at five. And the name’s Brett. Brett Garett,” he says. We shake hands while he gives me his address, and the pair start walking out of the church.

All the while, I’m glued in place, watching Valerie’s swaying step carry her perfect ass out the door.

Fucked is an understatement. But if I’m lucky, I won’t be the only one getting fucked tonight.