Page 362 of Bad for Me

“How can I help?” I asked instead of berating her, knowing that the only way to get this stubborn woman out of the storm was to finish the task.

“Hammer the anchors in,” she said, thrusting her hammer at me before her eyes caught the supplies I had cradled in my grip. “I see you had the same thought.”

I grumbled in agreement and set to work, hammering anchor after anchor into the soft ground as we were soaked to the bone by the torrential downpour. By the time we’d finished, every sapling on the riverbank was so secure, it’d take damn near a bulldozer to knock them down. I turned to Scarlett to congratulate her on the work we’d accomplished, and my mouth dried up before it could form words.

Her white tee was now see-through, showcasing the lacy bralette she wore underneath, and holy fuck, it was bright blue–my favorite color. I couldn’t drag my eyes away, and as her gaze followed mine, a faint blush crept up her cheeks, and she hurriedly spun away from me, covering herself like she had been violated.

It made me feel like twenty kinds of a creep. But I couldn’t help it. My cock stiffened painfully against the inside of my jeans, and I shifted where I stood in the hopes I could hide my arousal from her.

But it was futile. My cock wasn’t the biggest on the damn planet, but for a lanky Irish boy, I was packing. Hiding this monstrosity in my pants would be damn near impossible when my clothing clung to me like a second skin.

“We should get out of this rain,” she muttered, swiping at her forehead as she glanced over her shoulder. I’m drenched, and we’ll catch a cold if we don’t get dry.”

But that was easier said than done, because when we got back to the parking lot, her car wouldn’t start.

It wasn’t a surprise. For a car that old, I was more shocked that she’d kept it running as long as she had. There were two options, and neither was appealing, but we had to take what we could get with no other readily available solutions.

“Hop on the back of my bike, and I’ll take you home. We’ll come back for your car.”

She seemed skeptical but climbed up behind me and wrapped her arms around my torso. The ride was taxing on my libido, every bump of the road causing her to cling tighter, bringing her chest against my back so I could feel the outline of her hardened nipples against my shoulder blades. My cock twitched every time her fingers grazed my midsection, my lungs gulping for air from the physical effort it took to propel us both forward.

And then we reached the bridge that led to her neighborhood and found it washed out, already overcome with a flash flood of muddy brown, dangerously fast water.

“I don’t think we’re making it across that,” she murmured in my ear, her lips grazing the sensitive skin and sending a tingle down my spine. “What do we do?”

“Simple,” I shouted back over the din of thunder and wind. “I’ve got a guest room. You can stay there until the storm blows over.”

Which is how we ended up back at the church, damn near sprinting for the shelter and safety of my home.

I slammed the door against the cold wind and rain, the two of us dripping on the floor like wet dogs. We took one look at each other and burst into a fit of laughter, her smile turning my stomach in all the best ways. I yearned for this woman; now she was in my house, inches away, just ripe for the plucking.

No. You’re a fucking priest, Judas. Not a man whore anymore.

I shook those thoughts from my head and marched right into my room, yanking out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee shirt from my closet and the towel off my doorknob before returning to the living room where she stood, careful not to drip on anything. It didn’t even occur to me that I’d dried my fucking balls on that towel hours ago. I only knew she needed to wring her hair out and get out of those clothes.

“I got you something dry to wear. If you wanna get changed, I’ll throw your clothes in the wash for you.”

Her pretty pink blush returned with a vengeance. “I didn’t realize you had so many normal people clothes, O’Leary.”

Fuck, when she said my last name like that, it made me wanna crawl out of my skin. “Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, McKeen,” I retorted, a cheezy grin spreading across my face.

She disappeared into my bedroom to swap out her clothing, and after some back-and-forth arguing, I showed her where the laundry room was so she could put her clothes in to wash. As she changed, so did I, slipping into the shirt and pants I’d slipped out of the day before, still sitting on the floor of my kitchen.

My heart stopped when she walked out of my bedroom wearingonlythat fucking tee shirt, though. Hell, if breathing was an automatic action, my brain must have short-circuited, because I’d forgotten the process altogether.

The shirt only came down to her mid-thigh, and it was a Herculean effort to keep my eyes off those creamy, supple things. Her hair was unkempt and still half-damp, but hung limply over her shoulder in a thick braid that reminded me of the first girl whose hair I’d ever pulled. Every thought in my head right now was filthy, but I managed to cover it with a cough and gestured to the kitchen cabinet like a moron.

“There’s popcorn in there if you wanna pop a bag and pick out a movie.” I jerked my thumb at the doorway, backing up slowly. “I’m gonna go grab some, uh, I’m gonna–I’ll be right back.”

I retreated to my bedroom while she made herself comfortable, panting like a fucking dog in heat as I closed the door and slid down to the floor, my back against the wall.

Here she was, wearing my shirt and nothing else, prancing around my house while we waited out a hurricane. If I wasn’t beholden to a holy life of celibacy, I’d have already bent her over the fucking counter and had my way with her. I’d have dirtied up every surface of this house with our arousal. I’d have shown her what sort of emotions and feelings a real man could evoke in her.

Hell, she’d need a wholemonthof daily confessionals if I did the things to her that were running rampant in my mind.

I palmed my cock through the fabric of my basketball shorts and groaned out loud. “Get ahold of yourself, mate. She’s off-limits. Sex is off-limits.”

When I’d gathered my composure, I marched back out to the living room to find it empty. Curious, I followed the sound of the microwave until I found her with her back to the room, stretching up in the cabinet to reach the cups I’d placed a smidge too high for her to grab.

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