by London Hale
“C’mon, doll,” I said as I slid out of her. Harper twitched and sighed, but she didn’t move. That was fine. I grabbed her around the shoulders and under the knees and hoisted her into my arms.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to clean us both up, then you’re going to finish getting dressed.” It didn’t take me long to find her bathroom. Bright and open, the space had an airiness to it that fit the woman who lived there, but I was too far into mission mode to stop and look around.
“For what?” Harper asked, her voice sharp. Her shock evident.
I set her on the bathroom counter and grabbed a small towel from the shelf by the tub, stopping only to rid myself of the latex that had been between us. “Dinner.”
Her surprise only made me feel worse. Mouth open, eyes wide, she sat there as I wet the towel and spread her legs. It wasn’t until I had finished cleaning her up that she finally remembered how to speak.
“You’re still taking me to dinner?”
I kept my eyes on hers as I wiped off my cock then tossed the towel into the basket by the door. Once clean, I leaned in, caging her on the counter with a hand on either hip. Her eyes were huge as they stared into mine, her wariness obvious. She still smelled like flowers, though, which had suddenly become a huge turn-on. One I couldn’t resist.
My lips met hers in a fiery, powerful kiss that left her breathless. I cradled her face in my hands, unable not to touch, unwilling to let her go. Forehead pressed against hers, I took a moment to simply be in her space, and then I answered her ridiculous question.
“Yes. I’m taking you to dinner. We will have the first date I promised you. Then I’m bringing you back home and walking you to your door, and you can either send me on my way or I can come back in here and fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow. The choice is yours, but whether you let me into your bed or not, I’m going to take you out. Like a fucking gentleman should.”
Where the hell had Noah Reid come from? What kind of guy came in, fucked a girl, and then took her out to dinner? Certainly none I’d ever gone out with. I was sure it was because Noah was just hungry and felt like an ass for being…greedy with me. And really, there was no other word to describe it. Not with the way he’d clutched my hips. How he’d leaned into me. How he’d inhaled my scent as if it were the only kind of sustenance he needed.
I glanced over at him as he kept pace with me, a serene smile on his face. Waving at people walking past as if everything were totally normal. As if it were an everyday occurrence that he was strolling around, holding hands with the owner of the local sex toy shop. As if he hadn’t just fucked me within an inch of my life against the wall next to a window with a view of his church.
Holy hell. The way he’d been eager but almost hesitant, like he’d wanted to gorge himself on a feast while still savoring every bite, had nearly been my undoing. Jesus, if he could fuck like that after being celibate for years, what would he be able to do in a week? In a month?
Then again, it didn’t matter what he’d be able to do in that time frame, because it wouldn’t be with me. I didn’t do relationships, full stop. And Noah was a relationship man—it was written all over him.
The walk to the restaurant took hardly any time, but it felt like a lifetime. So many looks, double takes, and hushed commentary from our fellow Temperance Falls residents out enjoying the nice fall evening. I wasn’t a stranger to the gossip mill, but this was different. This affected more than just me.
Once inside Nonno Pino’s, the hostess led us to our table, and Noah pulled out my chair for me before taking a seat for himself. And then we were alone—or as alone as we could be in a dining room full of people, all sneaking not-so-covert looks our way.
“You okay over there?” Noah asked. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Hmm?” I glanced at him, finding his focus completely on me. Either he was oblivious to what was going on around us, or it didn’t bother him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…looking at my options.” I held up the menu I hadn’t even opened yet. Smooth, Harper. Real smooth.
His gaze was sharp, his eyes studying, assessing. I’d spent most of my life letting people see only what I wanted them to, and then Noah blew into it and stripped everything away. Somehow, I showed him way more than I intended to. Way more than I was entirely comfortable with.
Reaching across the table, he grabbed my hand and held it in his, his thumb tracing soft circles on my palm. “Harper. Talk to me.”
I blew out a breath and then pointedly looked around, tilting my head toward all the looky-loos. “Aren’t you at all worried about people seeing us together?”
He laughed under his breath, his thumb still hypnotizing me with its caresses. “Why would I be? We’re just out on a date.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “I’m the owner of an adult toy shop, Noah. I’m pretty sure there’s not a soul on this island who thinks we’re just dating.”
“Well, we’re not just dating, are we? We’re more than dating, and I’m still allowed to do that.”
“You’re allowed to date a nice, sweet girl who bakes muffins on Sundays and sings in the church choir. I’m not that girl. The only thing I do religiously on Sundays is run my dildos through the dishwasher.”
He gripped my hand tighter and placed his elbows on the table so he could lean closer to me. “I’m allowed to date whomever I like, and that happens to be you. As for the dildos, I’m sure I could help you out with that, so long as it doesn’t interfere with Bible study.” The side of his mouth kicked up a notch, mischief shining through his eyes. Mischief and lust.
I breathed out a surprised laugh, shaking my head. “So you’re telling me it doesn’t bother you at all that Donna over there is whispering to her husband about the fact that we’re out to dinner right now? And that by tomorrow’s silent reflection hour at the church, it’s already going to have spread through your congregation like gonorrhea? You’re going to have a lot of questions to answer.” I glanced at Donna, who was still staring, and fluttered my fingers at her in a wave. She finally spun around, pretending she hadn’t been gawking. “Seems like a lot of work for what’s going on here.”
Noah was quiet for so long, I finally turned my attention back to him. His gaze was on me, the space between his eyebrows pinched, like he couldn’t quite figure out the answer to the equation I’d just placed in front of him. Finally, he said, “Questions, I can handle. People talking about us, I can handle. And I’m willing to put in as much work as necessary to get you to see we’re great together.” He leaned even farther across the table, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone meant for only my ears. “Harper, I’m a pastor, not a priest. I’m allowed to date, and I’m allowed to choose whomever I want to share my life with. I’m also allowed to fuck you six ways from Sunday so long as it’s consensual. What are you so worried about?”
What was I so worried about? I’d never once cared about what hooking up with my previous sexual partners might or might not do to their careers or lives. So why was this different for me? Why was he different for me?
Rather than open that can of worms, I shrugged. “I’m already known as the hussy who turned her grandmother’s precious Christian bookstore into a den of sin. Now I’m going to be known as the hussy who turned the lovable, virgin pastor into a sex fiend.” I shot him a wry look. “And don’t tell me people don’t think you’re a virgin…you put out that vibe.” Then under my breath, I mumbled, “Or you used to, anyway.”
He sat back, grinning, looking altogether too cocky. “Are you trying to tell me you think you’ve broken my pastorness?”
“You just fucked me up against a wall, Pastor, so I’d say it’s officially broken.”
“I think fingering you in the church offices would have been more damaging to my pastorness, yet I still went and taught Bible study and counseled some of our senior members afterward. Pastor title and aura fully in place.” He leaned in again, cupping my hand in both of his. Running his fingers over it.
He traced patterns across the palm and back, down my fingers, to my wrist… It was the most innocent erotic touch I’d ever experienced. “My faith is about love and hope, about finding joy in every moment you can. You bring me joy, Harper Davis. Anyone who can’t see that or thinks it’s wrong simply because of your career isn’t the kind of person who would listen to one of my sermons anyway.”
I could only stare at him, mouth agape. And he let me, not saying a word as he continued brushing circles over my hand. Who the hell was this guy? When we’d started our combustible flirting all those months ago, I certainly hadn’t anticipated ending up here. And yet there we were, half an hour post orgasms, about to have a nice, romantic meal in a public restaurant. No hiding. No secrets. No shame.
“Pastor Noah, I thought that was you.”
The interruption startled both of us, but Noah recovered quicker than I did. “Janet, hello. How are you this evening?” he asked, making no move to release my hand. Instead, he continued his mind-numbing caresses as he held a conversation as if this were perfectly normal.
“I’m fine.” She slid her eyes to me, then quickly back to Noah when she caught me watching her.
“I believe you know Harper Davis,” he said. “She owns the retail establishment across the street from the church.”
Her cheeks turned bright red at the mention of the shop. Probably because she was worried I’d rat her out to her pastor. The complimentary mail service I offered at Sin—because in a small-town atmosphere like Temperance Falls, people liked the guise of propriety—had been her best friend since I’d opened the shop. Her latest order had been a thin, silicone dildo, meant for intro to anal play. Something I was quite certain she didn’t want her dear pastor knowing about.
Clearing her throat, she nodded at me. “Sure, sure. Hi, Harper. I didn’t expect to see you two together. Just discussing business?”
“Not at all.” Noah smiled—not at her, but at me—then gave a wink before looking back in her direction. “Miss Davis and I are dating.”
Janet’s eyes bulged, her jaw hanging open. “Dating? You”—she pointed to Noah—“and…her?” She gestured to me.
Not very subtle, Janet. Though from the way she wasn’t at all covert about eye-fucking Noah, it was pretty clear she thought I was encroaching on her territory. I looked her up and down, taking in every inch of her. From her pin-straight and perfectly in-place hair, to the pearl earrings she wore, to her cute little sweater set and pressed slacks, she would’ve been perfectly at home in the dictionary next to the title: Pastor’s Wife.
With a nod, Noah answered her rude-ass question. “Yes, she and I.” He turned his body slightly, seemingly giving her all of his attention, save for my hand still held in his. “How’s your sister been feeling? I’ve been praying for her since the surgery.”
“Oh, you’re just the sweetest,” she gushed, placing a hand on his shoulder as she leaned closer to him.
I narrowed my eyes, grinding my teeth together. I didn’t have any kind of claim on Noah, but that shit just wasn’t cool. You didn’t encroach on another girl’s date and paw all over him. Never mind the way it made my stomach twist, my hand clenching into a fist between his.
I had to give credit to Noah, though, smooth motherfucker that he was. He shifted just enough so Janet had no choice but to drop her hand or risk looking like an idiot. While he kept her talking about her sister, he caressed my hand, getting me to unclench my fist. With ease, he deflected her attention from what was going on between us.
And what the hell was going on? Months and months we’d had of that delicious back-and-forth, a year’s worth of taunting. Delayed gratification. And then in the span of two days, we’d gone from that easy, immaterial play to having to defend our relationship—relationship?—to onlookers.
Noah tugged my hand, and I looked up at him before glancing over to where our visitor had stood. She’d left while I’d been in my own world. I opened my mouth to say something—what, I didn’t know. Between my totally uncharacteristic feelings of jealousy and the uncertainty of whatever the fuck there was between Noah and me, I didn’t know anything.
“Good evening, Pastor Noah,” the waiter said, interrupting whatever nonsense had been about to come out of my mouth. “Harper. Nice to see you both, and sorry about the wait. Can I interest you in a bottle of wine?”
Wine. Yes. Perhaps a little alcohol would give me some clarity over what the hell I’d gotten myself into.
Getting tipsy at dinner was the best idea I’d had in a while, allowing me to leave all my worries and uncertainties back at the restaurant. Well, it was my best idea right after leaving my panties in my office and taunting Noah yesterday in front of his church. And also after taking his suggestion and leaving those off tonight when I answered the door for our date.
Okay, so mostly, my best ideas revolved around things that led to Noah giving me lots and lots of orgasms. And if I had my way, that would only continue now that we’d made it back to my place.
I unlocked the door and walked inside, tugging Noah along behind me. He hadn’t let go of my hand since we’d left the restaurant. He was a touchy-feely one, that was for sure. Hand-holding shouldn’t have been erotic, but somehow, he made it so. Gentle touches, soft caresses, just enough teasing to get me thinking about what would happen later…
“Thank you for spending the evening with me,” Noah said, closing the door behind us. “I hope you had a nice time.”
I dropped his hand, then raised an eyebrow, pulling the hem of my fitted shirt out of the waistband of my skirt. “That sounds an awful lot like you’re getting ready to leave…” I tugged off my shirt, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of my couch. “What if I’m not ready for the night to be done just yet?”
He didn’t drop his eyes to take in any of the skin I’d just exposed. Not even once. He kept his gaze locked on mine as he prowled toward me. “What did you have in mind? I play a mean Jenga, you know.”
I breathed out a laugh. How could he make me laugh when I was dying to get him inside me? “Do you play a lot of strip Jenga?” With a quick flick of my fingers, I unhooked my bra, then sent it flying in the direction of my shirt.
“Not usually, no.” He put his hand on top of mine, stilling me as I attempted to unzip my skirt. Brushing my hand out of the way, he slid the zipper down, his lips a soft caress against my bare shoulder. “Teach me the rules?”
I tilted my head to the side, encouraging his exploration. I wanted those lips all over me. “In strip Jenga, it’s more about sliding things in than pulling out.”
He pushed my skirt down until it pooled at my feet, then he clutched my hips, slipping his fingers under the straps of my garters as he pulled me closer. “Slide in. Got it. So how do we determine a winner?”
Teeth, tongue, lips…he was everywhere, all over my neck, sucking on my collarbone, licking a path up to my jaw, nipping at my ear. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
“Harper.”
“Hmm?”
Though I couldn’t see him, I could feel his lips curve against my neck. “The winner… How do we know who wins?”
Right. Strip Jenga. “Whoever comes first loses.”
He pulled back and looked down at me, tracing a finger around my lips. “That’ll be you, doll. Definitely, and more than once.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No.” He cupped my breasts in his hands, slowly leading me backward until we were behind the partition separating the living space from my bedroom. Then he gently tugged on my nipple piercings, his smile growing when I gasped. “It’s a promise.”
Considering our previous encounters, I believed it, too. Despite having been years since he’d been with a woman, he could play me like he’d been doing so his whole life. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t tease him along the way.
“What are you hiding under all these button-up shirts, Pastor No?” I whispered against his ear, playing with his collar. “Trying to make the co
ngregation think you aren’t a red-blooded male under those pressed shirts and pleated pants. That you don’t fantasize just like the rest of them.” I slipped a button through its hole. Then another and another and another until his shirt parted down the front and I could push it off his shoulders. And then I got my first real look at Noah Reid.
He was…delicious. So much male perfection covered by those modest clothes. Broad shoulders transitioned into a toned chest and sculpted abs. A light dusting of dark hair covered his pecs, and I wanted to feel it against my hands…my breasts. Then I wanted to get my mouth into the mix and lick every inch of him.
He let me look my fill as he stood still as stone, his chest rising and falling in a regulated rhythm. So controlled. Like he was trying to hold back.
That just wouldn’t do.
Bracing my hands on his chest, swirling my fingers through the light smattering of hair, I pushed up on my tiptoes and nipped at his bottom lip before soothing the sting with my tongue. “Tell me, Noah. What do you fantasize about?”
He gripped my hips, pulling me closer. Digging his fingers in deep. “You. It doesn’t matter what. It’s always you.”
“For how long?” I didn’t know what purpose his answer would serve, but I was suddenly desperate to know. Had he had this infatuation with me the same as I’d had with him? Could he still remember how we’d first met? When I hadn’t realized he was the new pastor as he’d offered me his umbrella to protect me from the rain, uncaring about getting drenched himself. I’d wanted nothing more than to pull him into my car and fuck him right then and there. I could pretend my attraction hadn’t been immediate and visceral, but I’d only be lying to myself. It’d been an undeniable build between us, the chemistry too potent to be contained. Until yesterday when it’d just…combusted.
“Since the first day in the parking lot. You were so beautiful…and wet.” He brushed a finger down my neck to my breast before tracing soft as silk circles around a nipple. “I love it when you’re wet.”