by Claire Adams
“Oh,” she said. I could hear the mischief in her voice as she said, “Is that kind of like saying you read Playboy for the articles?”
“Wow. Harsh.” I was laughing, though.
Quickly skirting around the porn conversation, she said, “What time and where should I meet you?”
“It starts at 7:10 at the Metro.”
“Great, I’ll see you then,” she said.
After she hung up, I just stood there for a few moments looking down at the phone. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was setting myself up. Am I just making these feelings we have for each other worse?
All I really knew was that I not only wanted to see Daphne, I needed to…so, I was going to see her and my sexual urges would just have to go untended.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
DAPHNE
I was waiting when Jace drove up in front of the theater. I’d actually walked over because it was close to my apartment. He was in regular clothes again and my heart did that thing it always does when I first see him. Then I had to go through the whole process of telling myself why I can’t have him…again.
“Hi, there,” he said, taking hold of my hand like we were a couple. I could have pulled mine away, I guess. But, I didn’t want to. His hand was big and warm and strong…and it was attached to him. He led me inside and paid for our tickets. “You want popcorn?”
“Of course,” I said with a grin. He ordered a large and then said,
“Please tell me we can drench it in butter. If you say no, I’ll be forced to order my own.”
“I love butter.”
“Great!” He was true to his word, he literally drenched it. Then he took my hand again and led me into the darkened theater. We found a couple of seats in the center and sat down just in time for the previews to start. Jace reached and put the popcorn tub in my lap, taking a handful of it out for himself.
He seemed so relaxed, like we’d known each other for years. I wished that I could get to that point…where I didn’t psycho-analyze every thought, feeling, and word.
I busied myself eating popcorn and pretending to be interested in the previews. Every so often, I could see him look at me out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to look at him—there was almost nothing I’d rather do. But in the dark room and with our close proximity, that look would make me imagine kissing him and once I let my mind go there, I might lose control all over again.
The movie was really intense, and every so often, I would go to put my hand on the arm rest and Jace’s arm would already be there. I squeezed it a few times as I watched the main character, Billy "The Great" Hope get his head bashed in. I cried when his wife left him and took his daughter and again when he fought to get it all back.
Over all, it was a really good movie and the absolute best part was watching Jace’s face out of the corner of my eye during the fight scenes. There was real light in his eyes, and I could tell that in spite of being in a completely passive profession, the fight scenes really appealed to him.
After the movie when I should have gone home, I accepted his invitation for Chinese food at his place. I didn’t want the evening to end and he didn’t seem to want it to, either…but that’s okay because we’re just friends. That’s what I told myself anyways.
“What kind of Chinese food do you like?” he asked me when we got back to his apartment.
“I don’t care,” I said. “I’m not picky.”
“Be picky. What is your favorite, Daphne?”
“I like lemon chicken and steamed rice. And egg-foo-yung. Oh, and won-tons.” He laughed.
“See, your demanding side was right there on the surface.” I felt myself flush and he said, “Have a seat in the living room. I’ll order the food and be right in.”
I went into the living room, but I didn’t sit down. Instead, I walked around the room and looked at the photos of him and his brothers and an older lady I assumed was his grandmother I’d heard him mention. I wondered why he didn’t have any pictures of his parents, but who was I to judge?
“That was in Maine,” he said of the photo I was looking at when he came in the room. “It’s a little place called Lincolnville Beach. My brothers and I rented a cabin up there for two weeks when Max graduated from college. We had a lot of fun.”
“Were you in the priesthood yet?”
“No, I’d just got out of high school that year. I wasn’t sure yet what I wanted to be when I grew up.” He came over next to her and handed me a glass of iced tea.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you want to watch some television?”
“Sure,” I said, taking a seat on the couch. He sat next to me.
As he flipped through the channels, he said, “What do you like to watch?”
“I don’t watch a lot of TV. I like the history channel and the Discovery Channel, though,” I told him. He found the Discovery channel and left it there. It was shark week. We watched for a while until the food came, and then Jace spread a blanket on the floor and we sat and ate off the coffee table while we watched.
“How is the chicken?” he asked
“It’s delicious, thank you.”
He smiled at me. “You’re so polite.”
I blushed again and he said, “Don’t be embarrassed, that’s a really good thing. Most people these days for get to say please and thank you. You never forget. I like that. Sometimes, though, you apologize too much.”
With a grin I said, “I’m sorry.”
He laughed.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do your brothers know…about us? I mean that crack Ryan made at lunch last week.”
“Yes, they know,” he said. He didn’t explain how or why. I was torn between being afraid they would tell someone and being flattered that he told someone.
“You’re not worried that they’ll tell someone?”
“No, not at all. My brothers can be all kinds of annoying and sometimes belligerent, but the one thing we always have is each other’s backs. We’ve always only had each other. Ryan and Max would no sooner betray me than I would them.” That made me feel a little better, knowing he was so confident about it.
Then he said, “I’m sorry about Ryan, though. He has no tact and I know that made you uncomfortable. I’ll ask him not to say things like that again next time he sees you.”
“It’s okay. I’m honestly kind of glad you thought enough of it to tell someone about me.”
He smiled and said, “I thought more of it than I should.” We both dropped that touchy subject and finished eating. The food was delicious, and once we’d just about wiped it out, I helped him clean up. It was getting kind of late at that point, and I said, “Maybe I should take off.” I didn’t have my car.
I suppose I could have walked home, or taken the bus, but he said, “Stay just a little longer…please. I’ll take you home in a bit.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”
We sat down on the couch and began watching an old movie on television. It was in black and white and we had missed the first part so I didn’t know what it was or what was going on. I think James Cagney was in it.
“Have you ever seen this? I asked him.
He looked at the TV; he’d been looking at me. “No, not this one,” he said. “I like old movies, though.”
“Me, too,” I said. “The world seemed like a lot simpler place back then.”
He laughed. “Or harder, depending on how you look at it. We definitely have a lot more luxuries these days.”
“This is true.”
I continued watching and I was about to ask him another question when I looked over and saw his head was extended back and he was sound asleep. He looked beautiful and uncomfortable.
I got up and nudged him over so he would lie down and stretch out. Once he did that, I laid myself down next to him. I don’t know what I was thinking other than he felt damned good and I had no desire to leave him.
CH
APTER THIRTY-FIVE
JACE
I woke up with hair in my face. I can honestly say that was a new experience for me. Before I panicked, I breathed in the fresh coconut/lime smell of it and smiled. It smelled like Daphne.
I opened my eyes and saw that it was, in fact, Daphne. We were still on my couch and she was cuddled against my chest. Her top leg was draped over mine and I had that pesky morning wood.
I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. I told her just friends…that’s all this was supposed to be. Now I was waking up, on a Sunday morning no less, all tangled up in her and physically excited.
Jesus, Mother Mary, help me. The temptation to touch her was almost completely overwhelming. I’d dreamt of this moment nearly every night since the first time we made love. I wake up next to her and I wake her with a slow, sensuous kiss. She smiles and opens her eyes and then I kiss her again, this time harder and more passionately as my hands begin to roam her sexy body.
I have to stop this. My cock was aching. I have to get in the shower…the cold shower. There’s no way I can do this again, especially not right before I have to go say mass on Sunday morning. No way.
I gently extracted myself from her, trying not to wake her. Her pretty eyes flickered open and looked at me, but they didn’t really focus. She rolled over to face the couch as I got up. I looked down at her fully dressed and sound asleep and I thought I never saw anyone or anything that looked that good.
“I have to get ready to go to the church,” I said, not knowing if she would hear me or process it or not. She didn’t say anything, but I still didn’t move. God, she’s beautiful. My hands itched to touch her. I looked down at myself still dressed in my jeans. There was a tent in the front of them. I didn’t want her to see me like that.
I forced myself to turn away and go down the hall to the shower. I was becoming an expert at the early morning cold shower, but even as I stood underneath the cold and uncomfortable spray, the desire for that sexy woman on my couch was not going away.
I picked up where I left off with the fantasy, only in my mind when I woke up, we were both naked and my hands were roaming across smooth, bare skin. God, she feels so good.
I closed my eyes as the cold water ran down my back and I could feel her. My hands tingled, my breaths quickened, and my cock was not going down. Damn! I cannot go do mass with a hard-on. I’m pretty sure God wouldn’t easily forgive that.
I tried all of the tricks in the book. I pictured my grandmother and my brothers and still, there was Daphne in the background. Finally, I closed my eyes hard and pictured the Bishop, looking at me with a tent in my cassock and shaking his head. That worked. I deflated almost instantly.
I finished my shower, and after shaving and dressing, I went back out to the living room. She was still asleep. Her soft blonde hair covered most of her face, but her curves were way too apparent. I had to get out of there before I got another rise.
I grabbed my keys and slipped out. I’m on my way to do a Catholic Mass with nothing but making love to a sexy woman on my mind. God, what the hell is wrong with me?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
DAPHNE
I want this man more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I need him…more than air…more than water. He wants me, too. Daphne with the abusive father and the non-existent mother and the go-nowhere job…he wants me.
His body is sculpted like an athlete. His features are more perfect that the most famous movie star. He’s smart and funny and charming.
I’m nobody…just Daphne who wore rags to school and spent most of my life trying not to be noticed. If they noticed, they would ask questions and then they would judge. He doesn’t judge me, though. He knows about my father, at least some of it, and he still looks at me with some sort of awe in his eyes.
He whispers to me how much he loves me as he kisses my lips and my neck. He strokes my cheek and tells me how beautiful I am and how much he wants me.
I sit perfectly still as he undresses me, following each button with a kiss, all the way down to my mid-section. I willingly let him slide off my blouse and I take deep breaths as I feel his hands slide around behind me and unhook my bra.
He gazes down on my naked breasts with adoration before bringing his lips down to them. Oh my gosh…he’s licking my nipples and he’s sucking on them. I’m so wet and I want him to touch me between my legs so badly.
When he looks at me, there is no denying that he is falling in love with me—the same as I am with him. His smile is so sexy, and I can’t wait a moment longer.
I propel myself into his strong arms and I kiss him, long and slow and deep. He plunges his tongue into my mouth and mine slides against his. I swirl mine around inside of his mouth and he tastes like peppermint and chocolate. I run my hands up and twist them up in his soft hair.
His hands are all over my body. They’re about to touch me in my center, the place that was burning out of control with need for him….
And then, my nightmare began. My phone is ringing—where is it? Why won’t it stop ringing? I just want to be left alone…with him.
It took me almost a full minute before I could process that it wasn’t the phone, it was my alarm. It was time to get up and I’d had another long, wet dream about Jace. I’d had one every day that week, and when I woke up, I was sweating and panting and sometimes my hand was in my panties.
My mind wanted to go back to that Saturday night, falling asleep cocooned in his arms, breathing in his scent, feeling his body against mine. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn't stop dreaming about him.
I wanted him like I’ve never wanted anything in my life and I didn't know how much longer I could go on pretending to just be his friend. No, that’s not true. I did know: I couldn't do it any longer. The whole time I was with him, all I could think about is how he feels and how he tastes and how badly I want to taste and feel him.
I can’t pretend any longer that I’m just his friend. I want so much more that that; I want it all.
I know that he’s a priest. But, he came on to me first. He looks at me like he wants so much more, and when he talks about the priesthood, there is no conviction behind it.
What if he does want me as badly as he does in my dreams? What if he’s holding back, afraid if he gives up his vocation that I won’t want him? Maybe I should tell him. Maybe if I just tell him how much I love him and want him…then maybe we can at least move forward, one way or the other.
I got out of bed and took my usual cold shower. Even if he says no like he did before, at least I’ll know and I can start trying to move on. I can’t do that with this pretend friendship we’ve got going on. It’s his way of being around me because he’s incredibly attracted to me, too.
I can see it on his face; I can feel it when we’re alone in a room. I can hear it in his voice when we talk. He can deny it if he wants to, but I know he wants me.
After I got dressed, I did the only thing I knew to do that would ensure us a quiet, private, calm conversation: I went to confession.
Yes, I knew how blasphemous it was. I was on my knees, pretending to pray, and waiting for everyone else to go first so I can have time with him…and I knew how bad this was. When it was finally my turn, I entered the confessional and out of habit I said, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“Daphne?” he whispered.
“Yes, it’s me. I have to talk to you.”
“Daphne, this isn’t the place.”
“I know! Don’t you think I know that? I used to be so respectful of the church and all of the sacraments…but then I went and fell for a priest.”
“Daphne, please, what if someone hears you?”
“There’s no one left out there. I’m your last.”
“We can’t talk about this here.”
“We are talking about it, Jace. I have to get this out, now. I dream about you every single night. They’re not innocent dreams. They’re hot, sexy, passionate dreams. It’s driving me crazy. I wake up wet
and covered in sweat and smelling like sex. I can’t get you out of my head.”
I stopped when I heard his side of the confessional open. He was just going to leave. I was such an idiot… Or maybe not.
I heard the click of my door and I looked up into his sexy eyes. They had the most intense look in them that I’d ever seen. I thought he was there to scold me, but when I stood up, he took me into his arms and kissed me. His full lips caressed mine and then he used his tongue to part my lips and he slipped it into my mouth.
He kissed me hungrily, and the idea that we were inside of a confessional, under the roof of the house of God, did not even entire my mind. His hands were all over me, touching me like a blind man who’d never seen a woman…like he was trying to memorize my every curve.
When he broke the kiss, I thought that was it and he would leave. I was so wrong. He reached back and locked the door to the confessional behind us and then he began to disrobe, literally.
When he had his cassock and collar off, I was surprised to see that all he had on underneath were boxers. I’d always wondered what they wore under those things. His uniform was suddenly the furthest thing from my mind as he ripped my dress up over her head, flipped me around, and unhooked my bra. Then he brought his hands around to cup my warm breasts.
I felt his hard body pressed into my back, and I could feel his breath on my neck as he brushed past it and leaned in to nibble on my ear. I shuddered and pushed back into him.
He growled low in his chest and flipped me around again to face him. He claimed my mouth hungrily, forcing his tongue in and tasting every inch while his hands continued to caress my body. They were sliding down into the back of my underwear as I melted into his arm.
My body was quivering all over as his hands traced my curves. His mouth found my collarbone and his hot breath left a trail across my skin as he nibbled and licked his way down to my nipples.
I was out of my mind with lust as his fingers played with the edges of my panties around the tops of my thighs and his mouth found and claimed a rock hard nipple. He sucked it in between his lips and held it there with his teeth while he flicked it and licked it with his tongue. He moved over and made love to the other one with his mouth, causing my warm juices to flood my panties and slide slowly down between my thighs.