Page 18 of The Reaper

“Amen,” she said. She turned, only to stop before taking her first step. “That was great, Father Saint James. Very impressive,” she huffed, the admission appearing to induce pain.

That was unexpected, but I’d take it. “Thank you. I’ll see you around,” I said.

The line shortened, the crowd thinned, until the church was empty—with the exception of the man in black standing at the back of the church. He had a steely and determined look, exuding an aura of intrigue.

I knew he’d be back, but I didn’t anticipate it to be so soon. Either way, excitement coursed through me. It was something unfamiliar. I swallowed hard at the reminder of a few nights prior, when I’d let weakness take me over and had pleasured myself with the image of him.

“Everything is put away, Father,” one of the sacristans said.

“Umm.” I cleared my throat and glanced at the two young men. “Thank you both. Great job today.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Jessica asked from behind me.

“No, but thank you,” I answered, looking back at her. I was hoping they would leave soon.

She climbed the four-step altar, standing next to the two sacristans. Three sets of eyes were on me.

“You should go. I’ll finish up here,” I said.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

I nodded. “Go on. Enjoy this beautiful Sunday.”

They exchanged glances until Jessica spoke. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am. Thank you all for your help. I couldn’t have asked for a better first mass. Now, go.” I motioned to the side doors, ushering them with a smile.

I directed my attention to the man in black after they left. He was planted in the same spot. I waited for him to move, to do something, until I’d had enough leering and gawking. He clearly needed something. Why would he stay otherwise?

The distance between us narrowed until I was standing in front of him. My heart was thumping, my palms sweating. I was equal parts nervous and excited to be this close to him. Hazel–green eyes studied me, a smirk appearing on his red lips. A few more scars were scattered on his face—his chin, his brows, his forehead—but nothing as prominent as the one over his left eye. You had to be near him to notice, and I doubted many had had the chance to be this close to him.

His eyes traveled to my lips.

I cleared my throat. “What’s your name?”

“I told you. I’m nobody.” He dragged his tongue to moisten his lips.

I was drawn, like a moth to a flame.

“What should I call you then?” What was up with all the games?

He raked my body from head to toe. “You can call me whatever you want, whenever you want.”

I took a deep breath; my patience was being tested by his presence. I stepped forward, but the man wedged himself between me and the ajar door. Close enough that our faces were almost touching. His fresh breath fanned my lips, causing goosebumps all over my body. Thankful that I had my full regalia to hide his effect on me, I stood my ground. It wasn’t the first time I’d found a man attractive, desirable, but it had been a long time since I’d acted on my temptations. That was when I was younger, before I was a priest. There wasn’t room for temptations now. Men like me were destined to be alone, deprived of any affection, passion, and desire. I had one mission. To fulfill my commitment.

“Do you mind?” I asked. My voice was even, unaffected. If only he knew what was brewing inside me.

The man remained planted. He didn’t move a single muscle, but somehow his silence and stare pulled desire from me, an emotion that should’ve been suppressed the moment I made my vow of devotion. His gaze intensified with undeniable lust. The scar on his left eye made him appear dangerous, out of reach. Irresistible.

The urge to run my finger along the crease of his eye came out of nowhere. “I have to go,” I said, looking at my feet to avoid being lost in his eyes. I needed to get a grip, to get my senses under control.

“Then go,” he said. His voice was huskier this time. “No one is stopping you … Father.”

“Please.” I didn’t know what the plea was for, and I didn’t have the time nor the energy to figure it out.

His head leaned closer to my ear. “Say that again,” he whispered.

His warm, moist breath made me shiver, my knees weakening. “Please,” I repeated.

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