The Pastor Read online

  Marry, Sadie! Over my dead, rotting, decomposing corpse is he getting his perverted mitts on my lady.

  “He's just come out of a horrible marriage and with the age difference, he’s afraid it will dissuade Sadie’s parents from viewing him as a proper suitor. He would like your help and as someone who has been very important to Gatewood, I’m asking that you make yourself available to him.”

  He finally looks up and only needs a second or two to sense my intense dissatisfaction with his directive. Using every ounce of strength to calm myself before I speak, I clench my teeth and manage to reply through stiff lips.

  “No.”

  “Excuse, me?”

  “I don’t want to get involved in this. Sadie is a young girl and she trusts me. Her parents trust me. I will not use my influence improperly.” I stand and hold my lapels firmly, feigning outrage for being asked to compromise my ethical integrity as her heavenly advisor.

  Fearing he’s cause offense, he grimaces with annoyance before shaking his head in defeat.

  “That’s fair, Troy. I’m uncomfortable, myself. I still feel compelled to help him, but I understand why you can’t.”

  I nod arrogantly and exit with confidence, closing the door behind me. Walking down the hall towards the parking lot, every ounce of anger I held in check bubbles to the surface and my quick pace turns into a full-blown sprint to my car.

  I need to find Sadie. Baby, what are you doing to me?

  Is she a part of this? Was Royce part of her plan? Was that her secret? Fumbling for my keys, I run past children playing outside, hurdle someone’s wagon, nearly trip on a crawling toddler, slide on some rocks and reach my car at the same moment I see Sadie’s mother’s SUV pull into the main lot. Not wanting to be seen, I hide behind my car, crouching like a crazed stalker and watch my angel hop out with a springy bounce, fix her pretty dress and shuffle slowly, her hips swaying just enough to draw my focus on that sweet, voluptuous ass.

  There’s no time for that, you fool. Someone is trying to kidnap your woman.

  Glancing into the car window, I inspect my sweaty face, still flushed with anger and dusty from my near spill. I try to clean up a bit.

  Why am I sweating so much? Oh yeah...the anger.

  Fixing my hair, I spy the box of items I’m charged with delivering to the local nursing home. They were due this morning, but I was so sleepy from thinking of Sadie of all night, I completely forgot. We can take them together. We’ll have hours to ourselves.

  This is perfect.

  Chapter 8

  Sadie

  “Good afternoon, ladies. Aren’t you all looking lovely today?” Troy grins from ear to ear, lavishing compliment after compliment on my mother and her friends who have all huddled together to determine who they should ostracize from this year’s events.

  Why is he sweating?

  “Pastor Troy, I was just telling everyone how grateful I am to you for seeing my Sadie home last night. It was so nice knowing she was in your safe, capable hands and not running around doing God knows what.” She smiles but Troy’s expression darkens.

  “Mrs. Quinn, your daughter is one of the sweetest, kindest, most upstanding ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Which is why I am wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed her for a spell? I could use her assistance delivering some things to a few nursing homes.” His green eyes meet mine and the memory of my earlier fantasy, makes my cheeks flush with shame.

  The things he said. No, he didn’t say them, I did. You nasty, nasty girl.

  “Sadie?” He extends his hand to me and I flinch at the sound of his voice. How can I be alone with him? How can I control myself? He’ll think I’m a floozy.

  “Oh, we just started this meeting.” I wring my hands with anxiety and sit higher in my seat, hoping I give off the air of professionalism. This is no time for socializing with gorgeous pastors.

  I’m here to work, sir.

  “You’re not needed here, Sadie. Go help Pastor Donovan, please.” Mama glares at me, as if my hesitation might send her straight to hell.

  Mrs. Walters butts in. “If she doesn’t want to go, my Emmeline will help you, Reverend.” She pushes her daughter forward.

  “Justine can go, too.” Mrs. Daugherty fluff’s her daughter’s blond curls and nudges her towards Troy.

  The nerve of these tramps. The man is clearly spoken for...whores.

  Fortunately, Mama is not letting anyone steal her spotlight.

  “Settle down. Where do you ladies think you are? This is church, not a place to play matchmaker for your daughters. He wants my Sadie to go and she’s going.”

  She shoots me a sharp look and sneers.

  “Get your purse, Sadie.”

  The ride to the nursing home begins in silence. Just because he’s handsome, and tall with powerful legs and that big, muscular chest that I can clearly see underneath his white dress shirt, tormenting me mercilessly on our way to do God’s work, does not mean I can’t keep my thoughts focused on other things.

  When I exhale slowly, trying to slow the beat of my heart, he sees it as his cue to finally speak.

  “Sadie?”

  “Yes!” Oh, that was louder than I intended.

  “Are you alright?” He stutters and offers his hand.

  I don’t take it right away. I’m not sure I should, but I can’t help myself. A part of me wants to follow through with this old-timey romance crap, but I’m a woman with needs and a woman who has been denied for far too long. But six weeks isn’t so long and he’s so dreamy.

  Sitting next him now, I feel like I’m dying, and it hasn’t even been 24-hours. That dark auburn hair, those green eyes, these hands that feel soft and hard at the same time. What will they do to me when we’re finally alone as husband and wife? Oh, the places they will go.

  Are you seriously paraphrasing Dr. Seuss you, sick girl? You’ve got babies and nastiness in your head at the same time?

  “I’m fine.” I chirp, softly.

  He pulls over and for a moment, I panic. Looking up I realize we’ve reached the nursing home. When he puts his car in park, he keeps me from exiting by taking both my hands and bringing them up to his soft lips, kissing each one.

  “You don’t seem fine. Have you changed your mind since yesterday?”

  “My mind? No! Not at all. I’m...just...nervous.” I fidget and stare at how huge his hands look next to mine.

  “Let’s drop these things off and then the rest of the afternoon is ours.” He winks, kisses my knuckles and smiles sweetly. “Ready?”

  Ready for what? My kiss?

  He jerks his head to one side and grins. “Stay put, I’ll open your door.”

  Watching him rush over to my side, I sigh with longing as I take in his tall, lithe, muscular figure, that small waist, the adorable curve of his ass and his beautiful chiseled face that beams with affection as he reaches for the handle.

  For the love of all that is holy, kiss me, now!

  Chapter 9

  Troy

  This might have been a mistake. I’m only a man. Flesh and blood. I’ve served the ministry for a long time. I’ve been good. I’ve tried to walk the path of righteousness...whenever possible. But this is far too much temptation for any man to turn away. I can’t even try to put some distance between us for fear that snake in the grass, Royce Garrity, and all his millions, will try to steal my darling girl away.

  “Are you okay? You look worried about something?” Sadie licks her ice cream cone, far too provocatively if I’m being completely honest and stares up at me with an air of concern.

  “How well do you know Royce Garrity, Sadie?” I hesitate to ask but I need to know if she’s considering him.

  A look of confusion crosses her face. “Mr. Garrity? From church? Not well at all. Why? Is he here? Did he see us together?” She looks behind her, nervous we’ve been caught.

  I exhale with relief. My angel.

  “What do you think of him?”

  “Me? I do
n’t know enough of him to think anything. Mama says he’s rich and I think she tried to get Sally to flirt with him once, but he never took the bait.” She giggles.

  “He seems nice, but rich people make me uncomfortable.” She wrinkles her nose. “Why do you ask?”

  She’s so perfect for me. God, I love this woman.

  “I heard from Pastor Reynolds that Royce Garrity has intentions for you. He wants my help in convincing your parents to consider him as a proper suitor for you. He wants to marry you.”

  Her eyes widen with sadness as the rest of her cone slips from her delicate fingers. “Is that what this is? Is that why you won’t kiss me? You’re working for Mr. Garrity?”

  “No! Sweetheart, you’re my girl. I want to marry you.” Without thinking, I take her into my arms and hug her, crushing her soft, supple breasts against my abdomen.

  Sweet, Jesus.

  Resting her chin on me with her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, she looks up and whispers, “Then why are you asking me about him?”

  “I just want to make sure you don’t prefer him. He could give you a much better life. You’d be a lady of leisure and you’d never want for anything, I’m sure.”

  She pulls away slightly and for a moment looks like she’s considering everything I’ve just said. I panic and tug her back.

  “Hey!”

  “What? I never thought of it like that, Pastor Donovan.”

  “Excuse, me?” I knit my brows at the sound of my sudden demotion in familiarity.

  She peers up coquettishly and smirks. “And I have a feeling Royce Garrity would have kissed me by now, Troy.”

  I gasp. “Sadie! You scared me. Is that what you want, angel? Does my lady want to be kissed?”

  She plays coy at first, shifting her weight and twirling a lock of hair in her finger. “I…guess.”

  I reach down and kiss the top of her head but as I expect, she freezes and then growls with anger.

  “Troy Donovan! You kiss me this instant. How can I agree to marry a man if he’s never kissed me?” She stomps her little foot with all the fury her tiny body can muster, and I use the opportunity to swoop in and bring her closer.

  Crushing my mouth to hers, I take my first taste of her soft, pink lips. She gasps and then melts into me, inviting me in, moaning with restrained desire as our tongues dance and the mix of our breath, her ice cream, and her cherry lip gloss all mix together to weave into my brain and send my thoughts wandering to all the sinful things we could do today.

  So many times, I’ve fantasized about being alone with her, taking her into my embrace and feeling so overcome with passion, I carry her limp body into my bedroom and make sweet love to her for hours. And then there are other thoughts, nastier, darker, much more perverse fantasies about playing the lecherous fiend who corrupts this angel’s innocence little by little, in the hopes of creating my own sexually deviant plaything to enjoy for the next forty years. A man can have fantasies.

  “Are you a virgin, Sadie?” On the couch, alone in my apartment, I gaze into her eyes, while my hand grazes her exposed knee. We shouldn’t be alone, but fearing we’d be seen, I suggested it and now I don’t know how I can let her go without taking some advantage of this rare opportunity.

  Blushing crimson, she nods. “Of course, I am.”

  “Because there are ways to tell.” I exhale slowly, trying to control my breath as my heart races and my pulse quickens.

  “There are?” She bites her plump lip and my heavy cock throbs against my leg, anxious to make its first appearance.

  I play with the hem of her sundress, trailing my fingertips over the smooth skin of her milky thighs while she stares at me with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Sliding my hand up, I feel for the elastic of her panties and instead of closing her legs, she opens them wider, still fascinated by what I’m doing.

  “How can you tell? What are you going to do?” Her deep, blue eyes are dark and dreamy with lust as she watches me lift her skirt slowly, eager to show her what my hands are doing.

  As I move her panties to one side, I can smell her arousal and my mouth waters with hunger. All I want to do is bury my face, my mouth and tongue in her virgin pussy and feast on it for hours, claiming it, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of her trembling body until she’s too weak to give me more, but I need to hold out.

  I can’t take it all this first time.

  Holding her gaze, I slide my finger through her moist slit, guiding it through her wetness until I find her sweetest spot, hard and ready for my touch. She whimpers softly, sweetly, instinctively sliding her hips forward to help me gain better access to her shamefully wet pussy before I bring my finger to my mouth for a taste.

  She gasps. “What do I taste like, Pastor Troy? Do I taste like a virgin?” She lifts her dress higher, whispering seductively as her breasts heave and her legs tremble in my grasp.

  Spreading her thighs wider, I listen to her moan while she watches me twirl my finger around her swollen clit, flinching with every stroke, wanting so much more but too shy to ask.

  “I’m not sure, Sadie. I think I need a closer inspection.”

  Licking my finger clean, savoring my beautiful girl, I bring my lips to her while I thumb her clit, teasing her, drawing out her climax, watching her writhe with a pleasure she’s never known and only I will ever give her. When she lets out a faint moan against my mouth, I insert my finger into her sleek pussy, thrusting in and out, while she shatters in my arms and on my hand.

  “Troy! I’m coming! Oh no, I’m coming.”

  “Come for me, Sadie. There’s so more where this came from, angel.”

  While I watch her twist and thrash, hips bucking, breasts surging, lips quivering as she howls with pleasure, I feel my balls swell, filling my cock with come, flooding my boxers as I growl with sweet agony.

  “Oh, my goodness! Troy!”

  Still locked in my embrace, after our first kiss outside the ice cream parlor, a horrified Sadie jumps away from me. I’ve just come in my pants.

  For crying out loud.

  Chapter 10

  Sadie

  It’s happened a few times. Fortunately for him, I always carry tissue in my purse, but my poor Troy is so mortified by his lack of control, he’s started shortening our kisses and limiting the length of time we spend in private. I’m not sure why kissing me has that kind of effect on him, but I sure hope he’s better at holding out when we marry. So far, we’re up to six kisses throughout the day, never more than thirty seconds long and we’ve added a little fondling, outside our clothes of course, and only above the waist. As much as I love Troy’s muscular chest and back, I do feel I’m getting the shorter end of the stick in that bargain.

  He said he’d make choir practice fun and this past month has been more fun than I’ve had in my life. It’s not all about the kissing and fondling.

  Get your head out of the gutter.

  Troy and I have fun just being together. We talk about books. No one in my family ever discusses books with me. We talk about New Hampshire and the little town we’ll be moving to next month. Pretty soon, it will be fall and he says autumn in New England is gorgeous, the leaves, the festivals, the crisp air, apple cider, and nights by our very own fireplace. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Troy Donovan in our very own house, fixing it up, starting our family and waking up every morning in the powerful arms of my adorable husband, gazing into those sea-green eyes and begging him to make love to me again.

  Gee, I do hope he’s good. I’m not getting a chance to test drive this car before driving it off the lot.

  Last week, we went ring shopping and picked out a sweet little set, nothing too ostentatious. Like I told Troy, “This is something I’ll be wearing when I’m bathing babies, sewing curtains, carving pumpkins, and making jam. It needs to be practical. And I’ll be wearing it until I’m an old, old lady. It needs to be simple and demure.”

  Fair disclaimer, I have no idea how to make jam, but I did find a recipe I want to try out.<
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  I’m only half-dressed when Troy arrives early to fetch me for choir practice. Racing to the door, pulling rollers out of my hair as I charge down the stairs, I answer and push him outside.

  “Are we really doing this now?”

  “Sadie, we must. I leave in two weeks, which means you leave in two weeks. We need to tell them and plan our wedding.” He kisses my hand and leads me back inside.

  Things don’t go as well as we hoped.

  “Pastor Donovan! I trusted you to care for my daughter, not begin an affair with her. This is shocking!” Mama feigns righteous indignation, fanning herself with a newspaper, while Troy, Daddy and I wonder how she’s misinterpreted his intentions.

  “Honey, he’s just asked for her hand in marriage. I don’t see how this is shocking.” My father glares at her, stunned by her quick change in opinion. Like me, he assumed she’d be thrilled that Pastor Donovan, whom she’s been trying to push me towards for the last month has formally asked for me. Plus, this prevents her long-held belief that her sinful daughter, Sadie, will one day get pregnant out of wedlock and humiliate her.

  “Mrs. Quinn, Sadie and I are in love. I know I'm significantly older than her, but we’re both adults and there is nothing illicit about our relationship. We’ve never been intimate. We’re not marrying because Sadie is pregnant. We’re marrying because we love each other and I’m leaving for New Hampshire, my new parish, in two weeks. I want Sadie to come with me as my wife.” Troy attempts to diffuse the situation, but my mother refuses to listen.

  What in the world is this witch up to? She should be on her knees, thanking the Lord someone is taking me off her hands...

  “Daddy? Say something. This is the man I want to marry. I love him. Please, talk to Mama.” I implore my father to intercede, but he looks as confused as I do.

  “Sugar, I don’t have a problem with this. But apparently, your mother has reservations. Pastor Donovan, will you allow us an evening to discuss this as a family?” My father extends his hand to Troy.