Page 19 of The Preacher's Pet

The way her hair had framed her face made it impossible not to reach out and touch it. I’d lifted my hand, my fingers shaking slightly, and tucked a lock of that pale blonde silk behind her ear.

I moan softly to myself as I recall how it felt. Soft. So silky, it had slipped through my fingers. As good as I had imagined, basically. My fingers had brushed against her ear when I’d tucked her hair in place, and I’d wanted to dig deeper into those thick locks and feel them fall over my hand. I couldn’t, though. That would have been weird, and I’d have spooked her more when she was clearly already spooked.

She’d looked up at me, her pretty little bow lips slightly parted, as we’d locked gazes. I’d searched her face, trying to figure her out, but her eyes were another mystery. They were both a different shade of blue, one like the ocean, deep and full of secrets, and the other was paler, like glacial ice. I wondered if the difference in color had something to do with the scar down the same side as the paler eye. I’m sure injury can change the color of a person’s eyes, but I don’t know her well enough to ask such a personal question.

She’s a mystery, an enigma.

I’ve never met anyone like her before.

The air had grown heavy between us, and I’d wanted to move into her, so I had. Just a small lean in, and we’d been momentsaway from kissing. Then the shutters came down. She’d blinked and her whole demeanor changed. She’d freaked out and run away from me,again.

Her running is another thing that makes me ache for her. I like to chase pretty girls who run. Before I joined Roman and Cain in this way of life, in my past existence I was definitely into adult games of kiss chase.

My cock is hard, again. It seems to be permanently that way these days. I rub my hand over my crotch and arch up into the pressure. I’m contemplating unzipping and taking care of business when there’s a noise outside the tower. It’s the sound of footsteps snapping twigs and crunching over leaves.

I listen, hand stilled, as I try to make out the direction they’re coming from. Is it a friend or foe? Not that many people other than us come here, and no one has ever dared to challenge us, so I’m not too concerned that it’s someone with intent to harm me. People find us spooky and this place even more so. They’re freaked out by the water tower, and they’re scared of the woods surrounding it. There are all sorts of tales of ghosts at Verona Falls, and there are a few alleged spooky beings wandering these woods.

The door rattles and opens. It’s not an enemy or a ghost, but Roman. He stomps into the room, muttering something under his breath, and stops when he sees me sprawled out on the bed.

I realize belatedly that I have my palm still pressed against my cock. I clear my throat and sit up, swinging my legs off the side of the bed and planting my feet on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” he says as if this is his personal space and not somewhere the three of us have claimed.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I needed an appointment,” I bite back.

He frowns. “Of course you don’t. I just wondered why you’re here. Don’t you normally take classes on a Monday?”

Roman can be so literal sometimes, but I’m grateful for it right now as he didn’t take the bait I threw down, which might have caused an argument. He’s not wrong, I do normally have classes on Mondays. I contemplate telling him what happened, but something stops me.

I like the interaction between myself and Ophelia staying a secret. It’s like my personal thing, something only I own. I don’t want to share it with Roman or Cain. Not yet, anyway.

Roman sighs and heads to the counter where we keep the herbs and an electric kettle. He purchased it special as he loves herbal tea so much.

He fills the kettle from the faucet over the stone sink and switches it on. This place might not be done out to the same degree of comfort as the Vipers’ mansion, but we do have the basics. Solar panels set high on the roof give us power and allow us to have the convenience of a small refrigerator, some sockets to charge phones and the like. A television, even. There’s a radio in one corner, and some books on the shelves.

“Want a drink?” he offers.

I shake my head. I’d much rather have a beer, but it’s a bit early for that. He paces while the kettle boils, and I watch him.

“What’s up?” I ask after he completes his third length of the counter.

He pauses and turns to me. “Nothing.”

He’s lying. I’m debating how interested I am in whatever’s eating him, and whether to try to get it out of him, when he sighs.

“It’s this girl. The one Cain knows.”

My heart flips at his words. Is he going to say he likes her?

Roman never notices girls that way.

“She’s trouble,” he says.

I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of my mouth.

He narrows his gaze and focuses entirely on me. There’s something about Roman’s energy when it’s zoned in on you thatcan be intimidating. He’s got this quiet but powerful charisma, and when he puts all that on one person, it can feel heavy.

“Did I say something funny?” he demands.

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