Page 22 of Perfect Harmony

You weren’t thinking. You were pissedthat Harrison was looking down on him and being a dick.

That was true. She knew Harrison could bea snob, but the look on Preacher’s face when Harrison started laughing hadsparked something deep down inside of her. Something that felt a little…dangerous, maybe?

She cleared her throat again. “So, um, onelast thing. We do like to watch our language when speaking with the kids, so…”

“I’m not gonna swear in front of a bunch oflittle kids,” he said.

He seemed more amused than angry by her worryhe would curse. Blushing for no real reason she could think of, she said, “Right.Of course. I just like to remind people because I know it’s easy to forget ifyou’re not around kids all day like I am.”

“Is that why you never curse?” he said.

She wet her lips. She’d been certain that duringsocial gatherings, Preacher immediately tuned out whenever she spoke. Realizinghe didn’t was a little… disconcerting.

“Um, yes, I suppose so.”

It was only a partial truth. Harrison hatedit when women cursed, said it was unladylike and coarse. Despite knowing this,a few months ago, feeling like their love life needed some spicing up, she’d gatheredher courage when they were in bed and whispered into Harrison’s ear that shewanted him to fuck her. She’d been hoping he would be like most guys who wereturned on by women talking sexy in bed.

It had the exact opposite effect she’d hopedfor. He was so disgusted, so turned off, that he rolled off of her and got outof bed. He flounced from the room, announcing that he couldn’t sleep with awoman who sounded like she was channeling a sex worker, before spending thenight in the spare bedroom.

But a man like Preacher wouldn’t be disgustedby it. A man like him probably had women asking him to fuck them all thetime. He probably couldn’t walk down the street without women hitting on him.Just because he wasn’t Addison’s type, didn’t mean other women weren’t gettingtheir rocks off to the thought of being in his bed.

Not your type, huh? Because I seem to remembernot two weeks when you had a little personal time because your fiancé wasworking late again. Remind me again who featured prominently in your littlemasturbation fantasy? Because if I remember correctly, it was a guy who lookeda lot like the man standing in front of you right now.

Her blush immediately flared back to life,making her cheeks hot and her neck and upper chest blotchy.

She pulled on the pearls around her neckbefore glancing at Preacher. He was staring at the way her fingers tugged ather necklace and she dropped her hand. He continued to stare at the necklace anda look crossed his face, one that on the surface of her brain she didn’tunderstand.

But the deep part of her brain that wasruled by baser instincts? That part understood the look perfectly. It hadto. It was the only reasonable explanation for why she was suddenly standingoutside of her classroom in the middle of the day with wet panties and hard nipples.

Call it osmosis, call it damn witchcraft, butshe suddenly knew exactly what Preacher saw when he looked at that necklace.

Addison on her knees in the bed, naked exceptfor the string of pearls around her neck. Preacher’s hard body kneeling behindher, his thickness sliding deep into her tight warmth. His hot mouth next to herear, his low groans and her soft moans as he fucked her, the only sounds in theroom. One big hand cupping her hip, the other cupping her neck just above thepearls.

Addison Mabel Moore! Stop this filthinessright now!

The voice shrieked through her head louderthan a Boeing jet engine. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her face was sored now that her entire brain was on fire, and she stared in mute mortificationat Preacher.

What the hell was going on with her?

Preacher arched an eyebrow at her. If heknew what she’d been thinking, he was doing a fantastic job of pretending he didn’t.“Something wrong?”

“Uh, no,” she said, “nothing’s wrong. Are you,um, ready?”

“Yes.”

She opened the door of her classroom andwalked into the room, clapping her hands briskly. “Okay, guys, back to yourseats please.”

The noise of talking and laughter turned tosilence like it’d been cut with a machete. The kids were staring withunabashed curiosity at Preacher, and Addison clapped her hands again.

“Back to your seats, please.”

Quieter than she’d ever seen them, they returnedto their desks. She smiled at them and said, “Thank you. Class, this is Mr. …Preacher. He’s a tattoo artist and he’s here today to talk to us about owningyour own tattoo shop and tattooing. Who here knows someone with a tattoo?”

A hand shot up. It belonged to Isabelle Sanchez,one of the more outspoken kids in her class. “My daddy has a tattoo on his arm.But Mama made him get a skull tattooed over it because the tattoo said Melissaand my mama’s name isn’t Melissa.”

Addison swallowed down her laughter asbeside her, Preacher made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh.

“Who else knows someone with a tattoo?”Addison said.

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