Page 9 of Forgive Me, Father

Or maybe the man on the other side of this door will like it if I’m trembling and afraid. After all, what kind of man buys a virgin? The kind who gets off on a nervous, inexperienced girl, right?

Taking one more deep breath, I raise my trembling hand and knock softly on the door. The sound echoes through the silence of the hallway, and for a beat, I wonder if I’ve got the wrong room. But then I hear shuffling on the other side of the door, muffled, heavy footsteps that make my heart jump into my throat. I clench my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. I can’t stop shaking.

I feel like everything drops into slow motion as I watch the handle turn and the door start to swing open.

No.

I stand there, frozen, my heart hammering wildly. Father Thorne is here, in this hotel room, looking at me with an intensity that makes it impossible for me to breathe. He’s in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that stretches tight across his shoulders and chest, giving me a glimpse of the outline of his pecs. No collar. No priestly clothes. His hair is a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

“Father Thorne?” I manage to squeak out. My cheeks are hot, humiliation at him seeing me here, like this, flooding me.

He nods but doesn’t say anything, his blue eyes never leaving mine.

“You…” I have to swallow and lick my lips to keep my mouth moving. “You bought me?” I don’t know what else to say.

“I couldn’t let it be anyone else,” he says, his voice low and rough in a way I’ve never heard before. It makes me shiver in a way I don’t quite understand.

Silence hangs heavy between us. Shock roots me to the spot. Heat rushes through me, and I’m not sure why. Is this shame? It doesn’t feel like shame. I can’t catch my breath. I feel like I’m wearing a tight corset despite the fact that I haveverylittle on beneath this coat.

The tension pulsing in the air is like a living thing, wrapping around us. I feel magnetized to him. I take a step back, and I feel the pull, so I step forward. I’m in the room now, the door clicking shut behind me.

I’m alone with Father Thorne in a hotel room. Father Thorne, who just technically bought my virginity.

The one man I’d willingly give it to.

He stands there, still staring, an unreadable expression on his face.

“But…why?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I don’t understand anything that’s happening right now. How did he find the auction site? Why is he doing this?

He takes a step closer. “I had no choice, Olivia.” He clenches and unclenches his hands at his sides, as though fighting against himself.

Does…does he want to touch me?

“I can’t…I don’t understand.” I shake my head, biting my lip, twisting my hands together. My mind is swirling, a chaotic riot of thought and emotion that disorients me.

He takes another step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I couldn’t let anyone else have you. Not like this.”

I stand there, stunned. I have no words. I have nothing except the relentless throb of my pulse in my ears. Heat gathersbetween my thighs at being this close to Father Thorne, at the intensity in his eyes. He doesn’t look like a priest right now. He looks like a man. A ruggedly handsome man who makes me want to do unholy things with him.

I’m shaking, but it’s not from fear anymore. It’s from something else, something I’ve never felt before. Never experienced.

“The money is yours,” he says roughly. “We don’t…” He clears his throat and shakes his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looks tormented. “I couldn’t let you give yourself to a stranger.” He steps back and starts pacing, running a hand through his hair. I follow him deeper into the room, legs shaking, heart pounding, breath hitching.

“But…why? I don’t understand,” I manage to say. My voice is high, breathy. I don’t sound like myself, which makes sense, because I don’t feel like myself.

He turns to look at me, and when he does, his eyes are filled with so much desperation that it knocks the breath out of me. “Because I felt sick at the thought of someone else touching you, angel.”

I swallow hard, trying to process what he’s saying. He just called me angel again. “So you did this…because it was wrong? Or…did you do this to own me?”

He shakes his head, looking completely distraught. “No. I did this to save you. But I can’t pretend that my motives are selfless.” He paces back towards me, stopping only inches away. I can feel the warmth from his skin. I can smell a hint of cologne. I pulse between my legs again. “I want you, Olivia,” he says, his voice low and intense. “I have from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

My breath stutters in my chest as my clit pulses, wetness gathering in my panties at his admission. I’m suddenly painfully turned on, my nipples hard and achy, heat pulsing low in mybelly. Father Thorne couldn’t let anyone else have me because he wants me.

Father Thorne couldn’t let anyone else have mebecause he wants me.

I keep repeating it to myself, trying to wrap my head around it. My mind spins. I feel completely detached from reality.

But it’s real. I’m actually in a hotel room with the man I’ve been fantasizing about for a year. The man I’m in love with. And he’s telling me that he’s wanted me all this time, too.

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