Page 90 of Bleed for Me

“My apologies. Maybe I can make it up to you somehow.” Her smile morphed into something seductive, and she dropped her gaze before dragging it back up in a slow, deliberate manner. She knew exactly what she was doing, and my balls were full onachingby now.

Swallowing, I averted my gaze for the second time tonight. “No need. All is forgiven.”

She hummed in response, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when she placed a slender hand on my thigh. “Are you sure? I’ve been told that I’mreallygood with my tongue.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she pried, moving her hand toward the bulge in my pants. Before I could even think about stopping her, her fingertips grazed it, sending a shudder through my body. “You’re clearly turned on,” she added, pointing out the obvious.

I took her hand in mine, prying it from my body. “I assure you, my denial has nothing to do with you.”

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Then what?—”

“I’m a pastor,” I answered. “I’ve taken an oath.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and she reluctantly withdrew her hand. “By oath… you mean an oath of celibacy, don’t you?”

“Among other things,” I confirmed, reaching for my whiskey again.

I knew when taking the oath that it wouldn’t come without struggle. I’d also thought it would get easier with time, and for a time, it did. But I was now unravelling at the seams, heading toward a downward spiral that seemed intent on destroying me. There was a constant tug-of-war within my mind, and drinking only seemed to heighten those urges.

Sighing, I returned my empty glass to the bar and turned to address the woman who had offered me the company I so desperately craved. “It was nice meeting you, Evangeline.”

She blinked up at me as I stood, drawing her lips into a tight line. “You as well.”

Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my black jacket, I strode toward the door and slipped outside. Stars peppered the dark sky, winking in and out of existence as I navigated the way toward my car parked near the side of the building. Slipping into the driver’s seat, I leaned against the headrest, absently reaching down to readjust my thickening cock through my slacks.

My eyes fluttered closed, and an image of blonde hair flashed within my mind. Blonde hair, blue eyes, an ass I wouldn’t mind spreading open and licking her from cunt to back. My breathing grew deeper from the mere thought alone. It was forbidden in more ways than one. She was a patient—mentally unstable and yet… she was the only girl invading my thoughts. Did that make me sick? Did that make me just as screwed up as Jordan, Seven, Archer, and all of the other patients occupying Brookhaven Psychiatric? My thoughts alone were enough to condemn me to eternal Hell.

My hands tore through my dark hair in frustration. I’d been good. Up until now, my lustful thoughts have been nonexistent.What was it about Rosalie Swanson that made me want to say, “Fuck it all to hell”, bend her over, and slide into that pussy I knew had to be fucking tight. Better yet, I wanted to strip her bare, impale her on my hardened length, and watch her large tits jostle as I drilled into her from beneath.

Jesus Christ.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Whipping out of the parking lot, my head spun with the assortment of thoughts warring against one another. Maybe alcohol hadn’t been such a good idea.

When I got to my place, I parked in the driveway and stumbled through the yard until I reached my front door. Jerking it open, I slipped inside, flicking on the light.

My thoughts were a jumbled mess as I navigated my way down the hall, not giving a shit how many lights I’d left on. There was only one thing on my mind—sleep. It was the only way to put these sinful thoughts at rest, the only way to stop thinking abouther. I still remembered how she smelled when I pressed up against her, and how her body reacted to mine instantly.

Sighing, I stripped down, discarding my clothes on the floor in a sloppy pile before jerking back the comforter and burrowing beneath it. I needed to get my shit together before I did something I couldn’t come back from—like fucking her for example. Not that I’d ever let it get that far. Rosalie might have been breathtaking, but she wasn’t worth my job or oath.

Exhaustion settled heavily over me, lulling me to sleep. My eyelids became heavy and for a moment, they fluttered, only to snap back open again.

Any thoughts I was having about the pretty blonde girl relinquished, replaced by much more sinister ones.

Blood.

Jordan.

My father and stepmother.

Their baby.

My chest tightened uncomfortably. The scene was forever embedded into my mind. It wouldn’t go away, no matter what I did.

And my mother expected me to forgive him. She barely batted an eyelash when she heard what had happened. The bitch even offered to take Jordan in after he got the help he needed, as if any amount of help would ever be enough.

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