Page 31 of On Your Knees

I laugh a little at my thought, and Father Carmichael raises a brow.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just wish I didn’t need the money so badly.”

Father Carmichael stands from his chair, and crosses the small space between us. “Don’t ever apologize for needing money. I am grateful you helped me tonight. I can already tell I’m going to get further along in this mission with your help than without it. So, I’m happy to pay.”

“Where does it come from? I ask him.

“The money?”

I nod. “Is it from the donations?”

He shakes his head. “No, even though this fight is one for the church, I’d never use the church to fund it. It’s coming out of my own pocket.” He presses the cash in my hand. “But, I’ve got plenty, so please take it.”

A tear leaves my eye, as I stand from the couch. “I really appreciate it.” Pride is a silly thing.

“You did really good tonight.” His eyes rake over me. “You definitely look the part of a Greedy Girl.”

I swear something happens to my body as his eyes rake over me. It makes me almostmewlat the sight of the fire burning there. It makes me wish he didn’t take a vow to be celibate.

However, it’s probably best he did.

There’s no part of me that can even entertain the idea of having a relationship right now. Even if I know the sex would be insane between us.

It would, right?

I bet it would.

“You like me with the wig?” I ask with a small laugh.

He touches a few strands, lifting it lightly. “You’re definitely hot, but so much prettier with the long blonde hair.”

I smile. “So, Father Carmichael prefers blondes, huh?”

He nearly growls, his eyes widening momentarily. “I didn’t say that.”

“It’s okay. It can be our little secret.” I give him a wink.

His eyes flash with something as he steps an inch closer. “Yeah?”

Oh my god.My heart rate kicks up a notch and my throat goes completely dry. “Yeah,” I whisper back, my hands trembling in his presence.

“God forgive me,” he says, and then he crashes his lips to mine.

And in all things holy his kiss is soul-crushing. His tongue presses against my lips, begging to be let in, and I open, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He snakes his hands around my waist and tugs me flush against his body, and I can feel the hardness there, pressing into my belly.

He’s hard.

So.So hard.

It’s like my mind can’t process this, and I keep kissing him. Our tongues meeting together, tracing patterns, and exploring each other’s mouths. My mind grows fuzzy with lust, and I think I hear myself moan.

Father Carmichael’s hands travel lower, grazing the top of my ass, andoh no, I just called him Father Carmichael in my mind.

This is so wrong.

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