Page 39 of Of Heathens & Havoc

Angel’s hand tightens, dragging me forward, and his other huge paw settles onto my lower back, bringing my body flush with his. The animal heat of his trembling muscles overwhelms me as his mouth crashes against mine. The slickness of his soft lips startles a cry from mine, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth, hungry and urgent, before I can even comprehend I’m having my first kiss.

A kiss he’s stealing from not only me but my future husband, just as my first touch was stolen last night. His tongue sweeps over mine in a hypnotic rhythm that commands mine to respond, and for a second, I explore his mouth. Our tongues slide over each other’s, battling in some primal, carnal dance that sets my soul on fire with every sultry, heavy beat of my heart.

A shameful sound climbs up my throat, vibrating across his tongue. My knees give out entirely, and the only thing holding me up is Angel’s strong arm around me as I sag into him, clinging to his blazer to hold myself up. In response, he growls into my mouth, crushing my body to his and rolling his hips against mine, so I can feel his hardness biting into my stomach. A flutter grips the tender flesh between my thighs, still sore and swollen from last night’s ministrations.

I imagine what it would feel like to have him kiss me this way on his knees, and a shameless moan rises from some hidden depth inside me, an animal sound I never imagined I was capable of reverberating through every inch of my body. With an answering moan, Angel’s tongue ravishes mine more hungrily. His grinds against my teeth, and I taste the rich salt of his blood blooming over my tongue like a delicacy. I feed him a whimper of shameless need in return, and he grinds harder against me. A shudder wracks my entire being, the ache clenching so hard inside me that it feels like it’s ripping my soul from my body.

“Excuse me,” says a stern voice, followed by a throat clearing.

I shrink from the kiss, hiding my face in Angel’s shirt, my head spinning.

“Mr. North,” says a voice that’s smoky and smooth and all too familiar. “Once again I find myself reminding you to keep your private affairs out of the public eye, and preferably off campus.”

“My bad, Father,” Angel says, his chest shaking with laughter. “I’ll try not to lead any more of your flock into temptation today.”

“Miss Soules,” Father Salvatore says curtly.

I wait, my heart pounding, but he doesn’t continue for a long moment.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice lowered and for some unknown reason, sending a current of familiar desire rippling through my blood.

I swallow hard and slowly turn my face to him, rolling my swollen lips between my teeth.

Father Salvatore’s gaze follows the movement, then lingers on my lips when I release them.

“Yes, Father?” I whisper, shrinking against Angel’s chest, hanging onto his tie like a lifeline, seeking comfort from the irrational terror tugging at the back of my mind.

“If you’d be so kind as to tear yourself from this young man’s amorous embrace and join me, I believe you have my class right now.”

“Right,” I say, unclenching my fingers from Angel’s tie.

He seems reluctant to let me go, but at last his hands fall from around me. I step back and smooth my hands down over my plaid skirt, grateful my knees have recovered enough to hold me. I sneak a glance at his face, but I can’t read his expression.

“This way,” Father Salvatore reminds me, gesturing to the building with a wry smile.

“Right,” I say, flustered by the intensity of what just happened. Is that what kissing is always like?

“Take care of her,” Angel calls as the Father holds the door for me.

As we walk down the hall, I’m acutely aware of my skirt brushing my thighs with each step, of the chill of air-conditioned air against the damp, fevered skin between them. I wonder if Father Salvatore can tell that my gait is a little loose, if he can guess that it’s from the uncomfortable pressure between my thighs. I can feel him behind me with each step I take, can feel his judgment, and I want to cry.

And then we reach the stairs, and my cheeks burn as I climb them in front of him. I wonder how far up my skirt hecan see as I climb, and I tug at the sides of the garment, holding it down against my legs as I climb the endless staircase to the second floor. He’s probably not even looking. He’s a priest, after all.

Still, he’s a man too.

I wonder if he’s ever broken his vow of celibacy. I wonder if he ever felt this way before he took it, if he ever made a woman feel this way. The thought makes wetness prickle in my center again, and I close my eyes, praying for deliverance from this hell.

“Stay a moment after class,” he murmurs to me when we reach the door to his classroom. Then he slips inside and sits behind his desk, leaving me to sit through the entire hour with a racing pulse and a sheen of sweat over my skin that only serves to remind me again of the summer afternoons with my friends back when I had them. When I had someone to turn to with questions when my mind was as full of havoc as last night’s games.

If Eternity were here, I would tell her about the horrible things happening to me, the way my body says one thing and my upbringing says another, the irrational terror I feel when I look at the priest, knowing he can condemn me to burn in hell for all I’ve felt in the past few days, not to mention the past six years. My throat is so tight I want to tear it out just so it will stop aching. I curl my fingers around the cross I wear around my neck, squeezing until I feel it break the skin, feel blood oozing out between my fingers and into the engraved lettering on the back. I need punishment, pain for what I’ve done and felt and desired. I need this reminder.

SHAME.

fifteen

The Salvation

I spend the entire hour keeping my eyes off my student—one student in particular. When I took this job, I also took a vow of celibacy, and I’ve kept it until now. It only makes sense, in a job like this, to take the vow, even though the Church no longer requires it. I require it of myself, holding myself to a higher standard than most men, devoting my life to God.

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