Page 178 of Sire
Another snort echoes her. I glance over my left shoulder, happily twiddling my fingers at Alena, sitting beside Vale.
Alena twiddles back, her other hand holding Loch’s. I twiddle at him too, and he blows me a cute kiss.
Silently, I pray for a glitter bomb, not a bloody one, when their story explodes.
I clock Nadine, sitting with Roman behind them.I want to be her when I grow up.Roman’s hiding his sub’s collar for Nadine under his suit.
Only a trained eye could clock it, and thanks to my husband, I’ve been lustfully trained.
Speak of the handsome devil.
Finally, it’s his turn to speak.
I turn around, politely clasping my hands, sitting tall like a proper First Lady of the church.
But my clit doesn’t understand the proper lady assignment.
She tingles like a bad girl every time Sire wears that dark grey suit. He’s been home for a few weeks. Thanks to my cookies and the gym, he’s put some meat back on his bones.
Bones he loves to give me every night; he really does havea hot breeding kink. I’ll be wearing maternity dresses for the next ten years.
I expect him to take his place behind the pulpit, but he surprises me. Approaching the choir and band, he grabs the microphone.
“Thank you for the kind words today, my fellow clergy.” He opens his palm to the parishioners. “My brothers and sisters, too.”
He clears his throat.
I swallow the lump in mine.
Sire’s looking at Axel. “Thank you for coming today to welcome me home. But this praise isn’t about me. It’s aboutus; what we do for one another outside of these walls. ‘Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap’…” He chokes again. “‘If we do not give up.’”
I glance back and choke up at Axel cradling his son … and fighting back tears.
“That’s from the Book of Galatians,” Sire continues. “It’s about the work we’re called to do for our brothers and sisters. But I must confess … I almost gave up on my work. And what kept me going and brought me home wasn’t you…”
He turns, gesturing to the giant crucifix. “No offense, Jesus. We’re good.”
Softly, the congregation chuckles.
“It was my wife.” He turns to me, and I gasp. “Always and forever, I come home for her.”
He takes a step my way, owning the crowd, owning my heart.
“She was shy and wanted a small wedding. And I was smitten...” He grins. “Still am, and will give her whatever she wants. But I always wanted to do this for her. Because, you see, there are some romantic love stories in the Bible.”
He takes another step my way.
What is he doing?
My heart is racing—my palms, sweating.
“And me and my angel? We were like Isaac and Rebekah. It was love at first sight. Now, in the Bible…” Sire smirks at the crowd. “Rebekah fell first. She lowkey asked Isaac’s servant about him. ‘Who is that in the field coming to meet us?’”
He pitched his voice like a woman, all sassy like it’s a “Housewives of Charleston” show, not the Book of Genesis.
The congregation laughs.
I chew my lip.
