Page 36 of Devil's Advocate
“My father…” I began, my voice barely above a whisper.“He’s Calvin Tanner.Reverend Tanner.The televangelist.”
Lucien’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t move or speak.
“He sent me here,” I went on.“To spy on the Temple.To… dig up dirt.He wanted me to prove that you were dangerous.That all of you were.”The shame of it came roaring up, and I forced myself to look at him.“But there wasn’t any dirt to dig up.All I found was kindness.And peace.And people who weren’t afraid to think for themselves.”
Lucien’s frown was small, thoughtful—not angry, but it made my pulse stutter.
“And you,” I whispered.“I found you.”
The words hung there between us, fragile as glass.“I realized I’ve been living a lie my whole life.Pretending to be someone I’m not—just to please my father.So I left.I can’t live that way anymore.”
Lucien didn’t answer right away, and the silence nearly killed me.The room seemed to shrink, every heartbeat too loud.I panicked.
“I—I found a studio apartment near here,” I blurted.“Small, but nice.And I got a job selling guitars and giving lessons at this shop on Grace Street, and—”
Lucien’s hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me forward into a kiss.
It wasn’t a small kiss.No, it was much more than that.It was relief turned into heat—his mouth covering mine, both of us clinging like we’d been waiting for this breath, this heartbeat, since forever.
When he finally broke away, Lucien’s eyes were wet.Tears ran down his cheeks, catching the light.
“I was so damn worried about you,” he whispered.“And now you’re here.You made it out of hell, Jimmy.I’m so proud of you.”
That undid me.I’d spent my whole life chasing approval from a man who’d never give it, and here it was—gentle, unconditional, freely offered.I could barely breathe.
Lucien cupped my face, thumb brushing my jaw.“You broke free from a place that told you to be ashamed just for being alive,” he said.“Now you have the rest of your life to be who you are.No one owns you anymore.”
I nodded, but I could barely hear him.All I could think about were his lips, his breath, the way the world felt right when he touched me.
Lucien’s eyes locked with mine.
And this time, I moved first.
“I want you,” I murmured, my voice shaking but certain.“More than anything.”
He didn’t make me say it twice.
Our mouths met again, hungrier now—need and gratitude and pure, unfiltered wanting colliding all at once.I lost track of where I ended and he began.
When the kiss broke, he stood, breath ragged, and took my hand.His palm was warm and firm around mine.
“Come upstairs,” he whispered.
I followed him without hesitation.
The bedroom light was low, gold spilling over the edges of the bed.We were still kissing, the kind that makes you forget everything that came before.Shirts came off, hands found skin, the air thick with wanting and disbelief that this was real.Lucien broke the kiss, panting softly, forehead resting against mine.
“Jimmy,” he breathed.“You’ve been through so much.Are you sure this is what you want?”
I didn’t answer with words.I answered with my body.
Grabbing Lucien’s face in both hands, I kissed him like a man starved—like a 28-year-old virgin who’d finally stopped being afraid of heaven or hell, and only wanted to feel alive.Lucien’s hands fell to my ass and squeezed, and a low moan came from within me.I felt his erection pushing against my lower stomach, and my knees grew weak.
Lucien suddenly pushed me away, and I gasped.
“Jimmy, I don’t want to push you into...”
I placed my index finger over his mouth, and whispered, “I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”Glancing down, I felt heat rush to my cheeks.“28 years, to be honest.”
