Chapter 2

I made sure to arrive early the next Sunday.

The sanctuary was still half-dark when I slipped into the choir loft. I left my robe open over a black dress that sat lower on my chest than anything I had worn to church before. When I bent to gather the sheet music, I felt the fabric stretch tight across my breasts and the soft curve of my ass. I stayed bent a second longer than I needed to, knowing the angle would show him exactly what I wanted him to see if he walked in.

He did.

I felt his eyes on me before I heard his footsteps. When I straightened and turned, Pastor Elias stood at the bottom of the loft steps, already looking away like he hadn’t been staring.

I smiled the shy smile I had practiced.

During service I sang with my eyes half-closed, letting the music move through my body the way I wanted him to. Every time I felt his attention drift toward the choir, I let my lips part a little more, let my breath catch on the high notes like I was already being touched.

After the last prayer, I waited until the congregation filtered out. Then I walked down to where he stood near the altar, still in his dark suit, still trying so hard to look untouched.

“You looked tired today,” I said softly. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine.”

I stepped closer. Close enough that the front of my dress almost brushed his jacket. “You carry so much for everyone else. Who carries you?”

His jaw tightened. I watched the muscle jump.

“God does,” he answered, the automatic, safe reply.

I reached up and rested my hand against the front of his shirt, right over his heart. His body went still under my palm.

“That’s the right answer,” I whispered. “But sometimes people need more than the right answer.”

I let my fingers trace a slow line down the center of his chest. I felt the hard muscle beneath the fabric, the way his breathing changed.

“I think about you,” I said, voice low enough that only he could hear. “When I’m alone. When I’m in bed. I know I shouldn’t. But I do.”

His eyes darkened. He didn’t step back.

I pressed my hand a little firmer against him, feeling the heat of his skin through the shirt. “I won’t tell anyone. I just needed you to know.”

Then I took my hand away and walked out of the sanctuary before he could find the words to stop me.

That night I lay in bed with my legs open, two fingers sliding through the wetness I had been holding onto all day. I imagined his careful hands turning rough. I imagined the moment he stopped fighting. I came with his name in my mouth and already started planning the next push.

I wasn’t going to let him stay holy much longer.

And when I finally got him inside me for the first time, I already knew exactly what I was going to give him.