Preacher's Daughter: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  Pastor?

  It’s my turn to take a step back, confused more than anything.

  I should have realized. The heavy, white fittings and huge white staircase. The embroidered framed prayers on the walls and the huge wooden cross over the hall table.

  Daddy’s little girl is the local preacher’s daughter.

  Faith pushes back into me, stepping on my toes as I get the message to let the guy in.

  “Sorry, Fitz. C’mon in… we just thought…” she says, trailing off.

  “You alright. Faith?” he asks, peering from her back to me. “I mean, everything alright here? Your Dad asked me to check in on you too, never mentioned y’all had company.”

  I start to growl again, but Faith grips the younger man by the elbow, apologizing to him all the way to the foot of the stairs.

  “Go ahead, Fitz. You know the way,” she says, practically pushing him up by now before turning to me.

  My head’s cocked and my hands ball up into fists.

  “He knows the way?” I hiss at her as she comes over to me, both hands out to rest on my forearms.

  “I didn’t know he was coming this morning, he’s a friend of Daddy’s,” she says.

  “The preacher,” I groan, reminding myself.

  Her face twists and drops, suddenly pale as she turns away from me.

  I’ve hurt her without meaning to. I’ve said the wrong thing at the wrong time.

  She’s taking slow steps towards the stairs, Fitz calling down asking her if she tried plugging it in before he gives a loud, piggish snort of laughter.

  “Faith,” I call, grateful when she turns around, her lip trembling.

  “I don’t mind whose daughter you are. Just tell me you don’t have a boyfriend, nobody like hog-boy up there for me to have to deal with?”

  Her sudden smile tells me everything in an instant.

  There’s nobody, she’s worried I won’t want her if her Dad’s a preacher.

  And I’m worried I’ll have to sacrifice anyone who gets between me and what I know is already mine, just waiting to be plucked from the tree.

  The tree.

  “It was you last night, wasn’t it?” she asks, making me blush now, looking down at my boots. An impish grin forms on my lips, as my hands trying to cover my bulge.

  A permanent thing, I figure. This effect she has on me.

  “I think you might’ve tripped a fuse,” Fitz says loudly, interrupting us and walking through with an assortment of tools he’s sorting through.

  “Humph!” he mutters to himself as he passes closest to me, making sure I can hear him.

  But I’m not worried anymore.

  “What if it was?” I ask her, looking up now I know we’re alone. Fitz has made his way down to the basement and I have Faith all to myself for a few minutes.

  And from the look in her eyes, a whole lot longer after that.

  I have a lot I want to tell her, but at the same time, I feel nervous suddenly.

  She knows I’ve been watching her and now she’s embarrassed for real, I can tell.

  I want her to know I liked what I saw, but with doughboy sniffing around, I figure it’s best to wait until he’s gone.

  “Your Dad’s not the only one who wanted to make sure you had an eye kept on you,” is all I tell her for now, grinning like a maniac as she keeps blushing and shifting on her feet until Fitz announces he’s saved the day.

  Her air conditioner is working again.

  I figured it was a fuse though.

  I could’ve fixed it in a second.

  As quick as she was to apologize and get him upstairs, Faith wastes no time in finding the check her Dad left for him and bundles him straight back out of the house.

  “I’ll be sure and tell your Dad I met your friend, as well,” he says quietly to her before she closes the door in his face.

  She gives a smile before she starts to gnaw at her lip again.

  She’s as anxious as I am, I’m sure of it.

  Anxious about the fact we might not have as much time in this house alone as we’d both like.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Faith

  Nobody’s ever seen me naked.

  I don’t even like seeing myself naked,

  The thought of a man like Noah, spending not just a second but a whole night, watching me shower and then sleep on top of my sheets without a stitch on.

  It terrifies me on one hand, but on the other, it makes me so wet that I almost want to show him everything all over again, right here in the hallway.

  Judging by the size of that tent pole he has stuffed down the front of his jeans, I’m guessing he likes what he saw.

  I mean, he has to have, right?

  My damned lip. I’m gonna chew right through the whole thing if I don’t watch it.

  There’ll be nothing left for Noah to kiss. Nothing left for me to wrap around his huge, fat-

  “Faith?” Noah asks, his brows raised, motioning his head towards the sound of the phone ringing.

  Snapped from my fantasies yet again, I stumble to the kitchen, grabbing the phone as I try to even begin to consider my next move with Noah.

  If there was ever a real-life, cartoon puff of smoke with a ‘poof’ sound, it’s right over my head when I answer that damned phone.

  “Faith? What’s going on? I just had Fitz call me, he’s all worked up, saying you have a strange man in the house. Do I need to send Sheriff Brodie over, and why didn’t you call me? I was trying your cell half of last night and all this morning...”

  If Dad does one thing, beyond anything else exceptionally well, it’s preaching.

  Whether to his flock or to his daughter, to the guy pumping gas, or to the folks trying to win an argument, he can ask a million questions in one go and always leave you feeling guilty.

  No matter what you’ve been doing, and so far. As far as I can tell. I haven’t done anything with Noah.

  Not a single thing.

  Except maybe lean up against him a little…

  I take a breath to answer, but he’s still going.

  When he’s at home when he has me in his sights and knows everything’s fine, he’s an angel. But when Dad has to leave me alone, or if he’s someplace he knows he can’t get to me, he worries like nothing else and like today of all days, I just know he’s gonna be a pain in the ass.

  “I knew I should’ve gotten out of this conference, but how could I? It’s only to apply for funding in next year’s budget…”

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I only open them once I sense Noah’s heavy step in the kitchen.

  My heart leaps in my chest as if my Dad can actually see down the phone, knowing he’s right in the room with me.

  “It’s fine, Daddy.” I hear myself tell him, the same tone I always used when calling him from college.

  I know he worries, and it’s only because he cares.

  “Noah’s not a strange man,” I continue, suddenly sounding defensive as I try to answer all of Dad’s questions in one go.

  “Oh, Noah is it?” he exclaims, and I can tell I’ve only upset him even more.

  As if sensing my bind, Noah takes the phone from me and giving me a short little smile, takes charge as he talks to my Dad himself.

  I feel my stomach drop, I have to cover my mouth to stop the croaking sound from being broadcast across thirteen states.

  “Pastor Holding? I’m Noah Templeton…”

  This is it, this is what the end of my life feels like. My fantasy man has climbed down from the tree, come into my house and now he’s talking to my Dad. Brilliant!

  “…Well I have to agree sir, and I can only thank you in advance for your daughter’s hospitality. See, my truck broke down yesterday, right out the front of your place and I was only hoping, after sleeping rough last night that I might be able to get some gas, or make a phone call to- Oh, you don’t mind? Well, that’s swell, sir! Sure, I’ll put her back on.”

  Noah winks at me, his huge hand covering the heads
et as he passes it to me, making sure his arm brushes my chest as he does so, making me gasp and shiver.

  I sit on a stool by the phone, absently twirling the cord and biting my lip again as I feel my legs open automatically.

  Opening wide for Noah who only leans back against the wall, nodding his approval.

  If Dad can preach, Noah just might be the devil or my conscience, and right now I know which one I want.

  The change in Dad’s voice is like magic as if a few words from Noah himself have changed everything.

  That effect he has on me? I think it must be catching because Dad orders me to help Noah out, “Give him whatever he needs, honey. Gosh! I mean, it’s why we’re there isn’t it? To help those in need?”

  “Anything he wants.” I hear myself saying, licking my lips now as Noah takes a deep breath in, his eyes running up and down me like I want his hands to, all over me and only stopping long enough at certain points to make them stiffer or wetter.

  By the time I hang up, my hands are trembling, I can’t even remember saying goodbye to Dad or when he said he’s coming back.

  Noah’s moving closer to me now, so close I can feel his thick legs pushing mine further apart, heat pouring from his body and making me gasp for more of whoever the hell it is he’s carrying.

  “Daddy said to-” I start to stammer, but his finger is on my lips.

  “I know what he said,” he croons, shifting his finger only long enough to trace some hair back behind my ear.

  “Give Noah whatever he needs,” he says slowly, his deep, gravelly voice emphasizing each word as his eyes stray to my chest again, which I know may as well just have ‘fuck me’ written across my stiff nipples.

  I want Noah to touch me, more than just with a single finger. I want him to grab me and bend me over the breakfast counter, but he stops as suddenly as he started.

  Taking a step back and by now showing me just how turned on he really is, I can make out the whole shape of his thick cock through his jeans, a dark patch right at the tip which makes me groan just from looking at it.

  “And right now,” he announces softly, making his way behind the kitchen counter. “I think we both need a little breakfast, you didn’t eat last night, did you?” he scolds me, wagging a finger, but I’m only craning my neck to see over the counter.

  Hopelessly fascinated by him and now his body, that huge dick.

  The whole man.

  I try to shake my head, try to tell him I couldn’t eat, but I know he’s right.

  “First we’ll eat. And then? Well. Then we can see about getting Noah whatever he needs,” he says with a curl of his lip.

  I lean back against the wall, helpless.

  Almost reaching up for something, a shower curtain to grab hold of and pull down, hearing the rings pop off the rail as I feel myself fall under his spell completely.

  The man’s just gone and fucked me without even laying more than a single finger on me, the rest is just from his words. From his presence.

  From the sight of his glorious body in our kitchen, promising me something I crave, but only after he’s fed me so he knows I’ll be strong enough to take what I know he wants to give me.

  That thing I’ve already given him in my mind, in my heart.

  I know I’m his now, and it’s no use trying to figure out ways around anyone finding out.

  Noah Templeton is a man who knows what he wants.

  And for whatever reason, it’s me he wants. Boring old, chubby Faith Holding.

  The girl nobody ever even looked at in college unless it was to poke fun at her.

  “Anything I can do?” I finally manage after watching him set to work with the efficiency of a professional chef.

  “Only eat what I put in front of you, and all of it,” he says in a firm tone; his dark eyes only lifting from his work long enough to meet mine, making me stab my head in obedience, promising myself I’ll do just that.

  And a hell of a lot more.

  God knows how the man’s huge. But I promise. I promise you, Noah, I’ll eat up every morsel you serve up.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Noah

  I could take her right now, I know I could.

  If she’d just give herself to me, tell me what I need to hear so badly.

  But there’s something so sweet about her, about her company and her girlish interest in me.

  I know it’s maybe a bit selfish, but I kinda like the attention she’s giving me and I want to get to know her as much as I want to do everything else.

  Plus now I know we have some more time, why can’t we enjoy each other’s company? And I’m famished, Faith didn’t eat last night and I can’t remember the last time I ate.

  Even though everything I really want to eat is sitting right here opposite from me, but we both need the nourishment of a different kind if we’re going to survive what I hope we both have in mind for dessert.

  I ask her about her Dad, family. It’s just the two of them and I leave it at that, I can see Faith doesn’t want to talk about it much.

  It’s obvious being the Preacher’s Daughter is no picnic at times.

  Like now being one of those times.

  “What about you?” she asks me bluntly. “That story you spun my Dad, that true?”

  I frown, taken aback.

  “Of course it is,” I tell her. “I’m not gonna lie to a preacher.”

  She smiles, trying not to laugh, but I’m serious.

  Stirring the eggs to a scramble, I tell her again, “It’s the truth Faith, like me watching you, wanting to watch over you. I’ll tell you the truth, always.” I remind her.

  She falls silent, suddenly shy again, nervous. Her body language tells me she’s unsure of so many things, but the sight of a healthy portion of good food in front of both of us breaks the tension a little and we start to eat in relative silence.

  Until she gets up the courage to ask me.

  “You really watched me, watched over me all night?” she asks, looking at me sideways.

  “Uh huh,” I grunt, shoveling egg, steak, and tomato into my mouth, wishing already I’d made more.

  “And… did you like what you saw?” she asks, finally.

  And there it is. The real reason she’s so shy, a little reserved, and maybe a lot uptight.

  I figure being a Preacher’s daughter doesn’t entail putting on live nude shows for guys in trees. At least, I’d hope it doesn’t.

  I growl my reply, letting my eyes do the talking in reply, already feeling myself growing thick to attention again at the fresh memory of her laid out like that.

  The lightning flashing across her curves, the thick lines of her thighs as they split wide as she tossed and turned. That single hand of hers straying between her legs as she moaned something in her sleep.

  Yeah, I liked what I saw. Still do.

  More than anything.

  More than a million dollars.

  “Everything alright?” she asks suddenly, noting my change in mood as I remember the case. The importance of it.

  Needing to keep it close.

  Supposed to be on the damned road with it right now.

  I crease a smile and nod, reaching across to her, cupping her chin in my fingers again.

  “Perfect,” I tell her. “Just perfect.”

  She looks away, too shy to ask her next question, but I prompt her with a stab of my chin.

  “Then… if you like it so much, why haven’t you…?” she starts to say, drifting off, too ashamed to ask the whole question.

  “Because,” I tell her in a loud, firm voice. “Because once I start with any of that, Faith. I’m never gonna stop. Understand? If I touch you like that if I kiss you, I’ll be lost and I won’t be able to stop. Not ever.”

  I hear her knife and fork dropping onto her plate, she swoons so hard I think she might come of her chair.

  But she doesn’t.

  “And what about me, Faith? What would you want with an older guy like me, huh? You could hav
e any guy you wanted. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Why should I just assume that I can do whatever I want with you? Who’s to say you’d even have me?” I ask her, trying to sound as forward as I can without using the biological terms.

  The words for her soft shape, her wet areas that are pulsing through my mind at a million miles a minute.

  I guess I feel a little hesitant myself as well, not because of who I am, but like I just told her, she could have any man in the world eating out of her hand.

  I just want to be that man, above all else and I need her to tell me it’s what she wants before I claim what’s rightfully mine.

  Faith collects herself, picks up her knife and fork, not blushing now, it’s more a look of someone who has the same feeling I’ve had swelling in my pants since yesterday.

  “You’re just pulling my leg,” she says finally. A little resignation in her voice, like she’s convinced herself in her mind of something the complete opposite of what I just spelled out for her.

  Or, maybe she’s playing hard to get?

  Either way, I can’t tell still if she really wants me or not.

  I feel just as confused as she looked a few moments ago. I feel a stab of hurt too.

  We both finish eating and I still want more.

  More food, more of Faith’s conversation, just more of her in general.

  “What’s the real Noah Templeton story then?” she asks, finally breaking an awkward silence.

  “I know you said you broke down, right out front here, but what else? Where are you from? What is it exactly you do?” she asks, reminding me again of everything she’s made me forget so easily so far.

  I wished I’d met her twenty years ago.

  Pushing my plate forward, eyeing the coffee machine, I shrug and blow a long breath out.

  “What’s to tell?” I half-wonder out loud. “I thought I made things pretty clear, owning up to breaking down, watching over you all night. My past? What do I do? That’s not something I think I wanna go into right now, because it doesn’t matter,” I tell her firmly but politely.

  She looks away. “Because to be honest Faith, it feels like my whole life started last night. Everything that happened before that is just a foggy dream. A bad memory,” I add truthfully.