Page 50 of The Preacher's Pet

I avoid Camile all day and grab a sandwich at lunch to eat in my room. If I see her, she’s going to know immediately that something’s up, and I am scared I’ll blurt it all out to her. It’s best I avoid that minefield entirely.

By the time the evening rolls around, my nerves are shredded. At least I have to get myself ready, which keeps me busy. I shower and put on some non-scented body lotion. For some reason, I want my skin to feel soft. They might touch me, and if they do, I want to feel good to them.

After drying my hair, I take off my bathrobe and put on a silky, champagne-colored slip. I won’t wear a bra today, as I never wore one in the commune. They weren’t allowed. We wore slips under our dresses.

The night is warm for the time of year, and I’m hotter than usual due to my nerves and the excitement zinging through me. I might get rid of my ghost tonight. I might finally be free.

The idea is so huge that I could cry in anticipation at the thought of never having to hear that man in my head again. I hate him, I think, then immediately regret such a terrible, disobedient transgression.

Hate is a sin, child. You’re going to pay for all of this when I get you back.

I freeze, terror turning me into a statue. He’s never said that before. When he gets me back?

“I’ll never come back,” I say, speaking out loud to an empty room.

You will always be part of meis the answer my mind supplies.

Am I going crazy, or is he really speaking to me? I don’t know which is worse. I close my eyes and press my palms together.Please let this work tonight.

I rummage through my underwear drawer and in defiance take out a thong. I never used to own such things, but my mom bought me some when she went shopping for clothes after I returned. If I’m going to try to leave that man for good, then I have to start becoming a new person, one in my own right.

Thongs are for sinful whores.

I ignore the voice for once, pulling the underwear on with a savage smile. I open my closet and search for a dress. I pick a simple, pale one. It’s an off-white dress, sleeveless and made of thin cotton. I don’t want to be too hot, and my nerves are makingme burn up. The last thing I want is to be a sweaty mess or to pass out from a mixture of heat and anxiety.

Once I’m ready, I brush my hair until it shines. Roman said no makeup, but I learned a few tricks from the women in the commune. I pinch my cheeks a couple of times and purse my lips until they have some color in them.

My eyes are bright, and despite my nerves, I look good. Better than I have in a long time. Maybe it’s the fact that I might soon be rid of my ghost. Ofhim.

The knock at my door is quiet. I open it to see Cain. He’s wearing all black, unlike his usual jeans and t-shirt. He has something showing in his back pocket when he turns to close the door, and I realize it’s his mask.

This just got very real.

“Are you ready to do this?” he asks.

I nod. It’s now or never.

26

ROMAN

I have everything set up,and I’m wearing the long black robe over my dark trousers and long-sleeved top. Malachi is getting ready, and Cain is bringing Ophelia.

I check the time. It’s almost quarter to three. They need to be here soon. It’s important we get started on time.

The door to the tower opens, and I turn from where I’m preparing the herbs. Cain enters, but my gaze is immediately drawn to the girl behind him.

For the love of the gods. She has been sent to test me; I am sure of it now. She walks into the room, her hair a curtain of almost-white blonde. Her dress is loose, but it clearly shows her body underneath. It’s a sheer cotton material, and the candles around her highlight the slip underneath, and her lack of much other underwear.

Her nipples press against the fabric, hard and demanding. I want to go over to her and lift her onto my knee as I fasten my lips over them and suck hard through the fabric. She’s got small breasts, a handful at most, but her nipples are pointed, and I ache to taste them. Her slender hips and long legs catch my attention next, with the shadow between her thighs promising so much.

She had said she doesn’t shave her pussy. Is it as blonde as the hair on her head? I’m desperate to find out, even though that goes against everything I’ve promised myself. She turns to look at Cain, and I stifle a groan. She’s wearing a thong, and I can see each perfect, taut ass cheek under her dress and slip. Does she know how revealing her outfit is, backlit by this lighting?

Is this something she’s done on purpose? I doubt it, knowing how innocent she is.

I turn away from her.I won’t touch herI swear to myself. When I look back briefly, Cain is staring at her in a way that makes me worry he doesn’t have the same level of self-control that I hold. There’s an undercurrent of male desire filling the air with testosterone and need. I think something is going to break tonight.

I clear my throat, trying to dispel the tension. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I ask her.

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