At that moment, the truck stopped next to Daisy and the driver rolled down the window.
When Chase saw the woman smile, she literally took his breath away. The air actually caught in his lungs and hovered there, paralyzed. It felt like his heart stilled and his blood stopped flowing as her face transformed into something fucking dazzling. She was pretty before, but her smile lit up her face, made her eyes shine, and she radiated happiness and goodness with her expression. She made the world a brighter, kinder place. Just with a smile.
Chase felt a growing unease that this woman might have the power to bewitch him like no one ever had before. They hadn’t even spoken, and already he wanted nothing more than to do something, anything, to be the one who brought a smile like that back to her face, to the world. Just one look, one hit, and already he was addicted, already hooked on the high he got when he saw it.
His heart began to beat again, but faster now, pounding in his chest. His blood rushed in a frenzy through his veins. His breath took a moment longer to return, and when it did, it came in rapid, rasping gulps. He struggled to pull in enough oxygen, his head growing dizzy. But it was already too late. Chase was drowning. He was sunk.
When the truck stopped and the driver rolled down the window, Daisy gasped.
It took her less than a second to take in the man (HOT!), the outfit, and the white priest’s collar on the floor of the truck. Seriously? She was being rescued by a priest? Thanks Nana! She thought to herself. And thanks whoever else is up there who sent him to me. And you made him fucking hot, too?
Wait…wasn’t that like, against the rules or something. Weren’t priests supposed to be old and grandfatherly? And what’s with the facial hair? Priests are allowed to have five day old scruff now? Didn’t they have personal grooming rules? And how wrong was it that Daisy was feeling a ping of attraction to this guy?
“Hey, you having some car trouble?” he asked. “Need some help?”
His voice was deep and smooth, like melted caramel on a scoop of ice cream, coating her insides with warmth and satisfaction. Daisy didn’t give herself a chance to acknowledge the tremble she felt in her stomach, and her knees, when she heard his voice. Instead, she focused on the fact that she’d been searching for a priest, and now here one was, practically dropped into her lap. Daisy also ignored the burst of arousal she felt when she thought about him in her lap.
“Wow, thanks! Yeah, I got a flat and the spare is missing. It’s a rental. And even though Nana told me to always check the spare before I leave, I forgot. I’ve been stuck here, and I have no phone reception, and I cannot believe how crazy, and how perfect, it is that you…you! are the one who pulled up. I totally need you right now, and this is like a miracle!”
The words exploded out of Daisy’s mouth before she could think or filter. She needed a priest, she needed to go to confession, and she’d gotten one. Bonus because he was so good looking. Or maybe that wasn’t a bonus, because instead of thinking about repentance, all she could focus on was how sexy he was. And once that thought was in her head, she couldn’t keep her eyes from roaming over his body and noticing how hard his thighs looked straining against the fabric of the pants. And it was really impossible to ignore the ropy muscles in his forearms, or the way they led up to sculpted biceps that Daisy suddenly, inexplicably, wanted to lick. Jesus, where had that come from?
Stop. Stop looking at his muscles. Look somewhere else instead. Unfortunately for Daisy, her eyes rested on his face, and sweet baby Jesus, it was like looking at someone who could be a cover model for GQ. He had dark, longish hair that looked like his only nod to grooming was to run a hand through it. It was mussed and wild, dangerously inviting someone to smooth it down into tameness. A stray lock flopped onto his forehead, and Daisy’s hand actually itched to brush it back.
His dark eyes were framed with long lashes that would have made a less masculine man look pretty rather than handsome. On him, though, it just drew attention to those eyes. Deep, dark brown, like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. Straight nose, strong, with character. And then his lips. Full and wide, tasty.
The look was capped off with the scruff. Definitely more than 5 o’clock shadow. More, even, than two day’s growth, but not yet a full blown beard. It was the facial hair of a man who’d spend days in bed with his woman, not wanting to leave her even long enough to shave. He radiated a laid-back, bit of a devil-may-care attitude, though that must just be in her imagination, because he was a priest after all. Daisy wondered if the scruff would be scratchy or soft, or some wonderful combination of the two. And if it would feel different on her face as compared to between her legs.
Stop! Daisy ordered herself. He’s a priest. He’s not available for dating…or more.
Daisy realized he was saying something, and she had no idea what it was. She stared at him blankly until he repeated the question.
“Do you need a ride somewhere? I haven’t had signal on my phone either, but I’m heading to Bellington. It should be about 45 minutes from here.”
The gears in Daisy’s brain were grinding so slowly that she had to dissect each word to figure out what he was saying. Her mind fought with itself, one part wanting to think about his hands exploring her curves, his long fingers dipping into forbidden places, another part warning her to stop. Fuck!
He held up his hands, palms open, and smiled at her. “I swear I’m safe. Scout’s honor!”
Daisy forced her mind to clear again. No more sexy thoughts. But he should be safe. Daisy found she instinctively trusted him, and not, she thought, just because he was a priest. It just seemed as though there was something inherently honest about him. And anyway, she didn’t really have much choice. His was the first car she’d seen since her tire had blown, and who knew how long it would be before someone else drove by?
Also, the memory of Nana’s request still echoed in her head, and the message she’d sent resonated. The appearance of this man made too many things fall into place. She could ride with him to the town, get her car fixed or towed or whatever, and confess to satisfy Nana.
His good looks had no power over her. She could talk to him without fantasizing about stripping him naked and sampling every inch of his body with her fingers, with her tongue.
And then he smiled at her. And Daisy was lost.
Chase hadn’t been paying much attention to what the woman was saying. He’d been distracted by how alluring she was and how he longed to wind his fingers in her hair so he could tug her head back before kissing her neck.
She had a flat tire; that part he got. Then there was something about her grandma, nana? But the part that had come through loud and clear was when she said he was perfect, and that she needed him. Everything else was unimportant. Chase caught the important part: she wanted him!
God knew, he wanted her, too. He felt a tightening in his groin even thinking about it, and he shifted slightly to accommodate. He’d always been a man who appreciated the beauty of women, and enjoyed their pleasures when he could. But he couldn’t remember ever having had such an instant and intense attraction to someone before.
He thought she might still be a little wary; she had hesitated when he offered her a ride. So he’d thrown his hands up in mock surrender, declaring himself safe. Of course, he figured any decent serial killer would proclaim himself safe, so maybe that didn’t help make him appear more trustworthy to her. Absently, he ran his hand over his chin again, a habit that was becoming increasing comforting to him, and then pulled at the gold chain around his neck. It was a memento from his grandmother, a strong and fierce matriarch of their family, who had pressed the chain, which held a gold cross into his palm the last time he’d visited her, an occurrence that happened far too seldom for both of them. Before he’d grown the facial hair, and taken to rubbing that when he needed to think or distract himself, he’d often pulled at the cross and fingered it instead. He did so now, and watched as the woman’s eyes widened in…shock?…before she stuck her hand in the wi
ndow.
“I’m Daisy, and yes, I could really use your help.”
Chase took her hand in his. Her skin was soft, like silk, and her hand was tiny in his giant paw. But her grip was surprisingly strong and confident.
“Daisy, nice, like the flower. I’m Chase. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m actually named ‘Saturday’, but when I was three I insisted everyone start calling me Daisy. My parents really challenged me with their choice for my name. It’s good to meet you too. And should I really just call you Chase? It seems a little informal, but whatever. Can we do it now, or do you have to be on duty, or something? Oh! And do we need to be anywhere special for this, or is in the car ok? It’s been a while. Years, really. I and was never really into it before. I don’t even really remember how to get started.”
Chase was pretty sure she couldn’t possibly be talking about what it sounded like she was talking about. Because it sure sounded like she was propositioning him for sex. Not that he’d be opposed. His dick was in full agreement with her idea. But was she offering him sex in exchange for the ride? He guessed people did that sometimes, but she seemed too wholesome for that. She didn’t seem innocent, exactly, but she didn’t look like the type of person who made it a habit to trade sex for favors.
Maybe he was wrong, though. Maybe that was what she was offering. And if she was, did he dare take her up on it? He wanted it. Lord knows he wanted it. She did something to his insides that was unexpected and unfamiliar. He wanted to drink her in. But he also felt protective of her, and he didn’t want her feeling beholden to him and giving her body to him out of a sense of obligation. He actually could think of little worse than pushing himself inside of her and seeing a grimace of duty cross her features before she turned her face away.
Yes, he wanted her, and with a fierceness that challenged the reality that he’d only just met her, but he wanted her panting under him with the same arousal that he felt. He wanted her begging for his touch, his mouth. He wanted her to want him, and not just be there. He yearned to strip her control and wariness away as much as he wanted to strip her clothes off. Anything less would be disappointing.
“I think first names are appropriate, don’t you? We’re not so deep in the south that we ought to go by Mr. and Mrs. until we’re formally introduced, are we? And all I’m doing is offering a ride. Nothing else is required or asked for. I really do just want to give you a lift. So please don’t feel like anything more is needed. At most, I’ll ask for some pleasant, banal conversation to pass the time before we get to town. Okay?”
“Conversation? Is that what it’s called now? Last time I did it, which was probably when I was in seventh or eighth grade, it was still called confession.”
Confession? Was that a euphemism for sex he’d never heard before? Chase thought he’d heard, and used, them all, but this would be a new one.
And then it clicked. His outfit. The collar. She thought we was a goddamn priest! He should have figured it out sooner, but he’d been distracted by her long legs and honeyed skin.
Here he’d been thinking she was asking him for sex, and she thought he was a priest. He should clear this up right away. By now Daisy had opened the door and settled herself into the passenger seat. But even though the words of explanation formed in his brain, when he opened his mouth, instead of the truth, he asked, “Confession, huh? What would a good girl like you have to confess?”
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t quite resist having a little fun with her.
Daisy sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. Chase pretended not to notice her breasts as she did that. “I don’t know. My Nana is really into it, you know? She wants me to do this, so I’m really just doing it for her.”
“Sounds to me,” and Chase was no expert, but he was sure about this part, “That if you give a confession, it’s supposed be because it’s something you really want to do.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “It is. But still. I’m kinda hoping it’ll be good Karma to do it for her.”
“Okay, then.” He tried not to let his smile escape into a laugh. “If you were going to confess. What it is you’d want to say, do you think?”
“Forgive me Father…Chase…for I have sinned. It’s been, well, a long time since my last confession.”
Then Daisy began.
He didn’t expect what came next.
Daisy hadn’t thought she’d be so nervous. She also hadn’t thought she’d be confessing to a hot priest, especially one that had sounded like he was flirting with her. That shouldn’t be allowed. How was she supposed to tell him about all the sins she’d committed when she was thinking about how sexy his lips were? Wait! Did she have to confess that? Oh god, she probably did. And now she’d said ‘god’, in vain, even if only in her head. So she had more to confess. Shit. And she didn’t even think she needed to confess, and that was probably a sin, too
“Ok, so I’ve lied, like, a lot of times. But never anything too big. I mean, a couple times I called in sick to work when really I felt fine. But it was more of a mental health day for me. I just needed to recharge, and mental health is really a big part of overall health, so those don’t even count as lies. It’s kind of a travesty that mental health isn’t considered a part of overall health, and that there isn’t more compensation for people trying to manage their issues.
“But that’s off topic. I also lied to my friend recently when I told her I was busy when she invited me to a Pampered Chef party, and then stayed home watching The Bachelor instead. It was already recorded so I was actually free to go to the party. I felt really bad about that later, because she only had two other people show up, so it was kind of embarrassing for her, but mostly just felt relieved that I hadn’t had to be there. And, well, I’m sure there are more. I don’t remember them all, so maybe I can just lump them all into one big sin, and leave it at that?”
Daisy snuck a sideways glance at Chase. His eyes were on the road, and he seemed to be listening intently, though he had a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. When she hesitated, he cast a quick glance her way and nodded encouragement for her to continue. She was sure she’d seen amusement in his grin.
“I swear. Also a lot. And I say ‘god’ all the time. I don’t mean anything by it, though. It’s just an expression. But, I’m sorry.
“Ummm…I envy things? Like the new Tory Burch purse my editor just got. I didn’t even really like it, I just wanted it because of the name. Though, oh my god, that leather felt good. I wanted to take a nap on it, it was so soft. Oh, and I’ve done the ‘name in vain’ one again. Sorry. Wait…actually, I kind of lied again. I’m not really sorry about that. I don’t truly think that’s a really big deal. I mean, I don’t think God is really sitting up in heaven keeping a tally of all the times someone says ‘Oh god!’ But I will try to be better about that, and the swearing. Does that count?
“And, what else? I don’t really know. I think I’m basically a good person. I haven’t murdered anyone, and I like to think that I’m mostly nice. I don’t go to church, though. Is that a sin? If yes, then sorry. But I probably won’t start going more often. So I apologize in advance for that.”
Daisy paused. She felt simultaneously that she’d said too much and hadn’t said enough. She thought about the story her Nana had told her once about her grandfather. Her grandparents had immigrated to the US from Italy, and spoke no English when they arrived. But her grandfather had wanted to go to confession, so he’d written a list of sins in Italian and asked a neighbor’s child to translate them into English, which he then memorized. His confession went flawlessly as he recited his sins until the priest demanded one more sin before his penance would be delivered. But her grandfather didn’t know the words to come up with one more.
Daisy sympathized with her grandfather and his need to pull one more sin out when he’d thought he was done. Right now, she felt like she needed to come up with something that had a bit more meat.
Chase, glanced over at her again.<
br />
“I should…” he said at the same time that Daisy began to speak again.
“Please,” she said, not wanting to stop in case she lost her nerve. She was feeling increasingly nervous around him partly because she couldn’t ignore her growing attraction to him. “Can I keep going?”
Chase looked like he wanted to say something, but after a moment of hesitation, he simply nodded and said, “Go on.”
“Thanks. So, I, uh, don’t think birth control is wrong. I mean, there are too many people in this world anyway, and I think it’s just irresponsible not to use condoms. So I guess that means I don’t think premarital sex is wrong. And,” Daisy felt her face turn a bright red as she blushed, “I’ve you, know, had it a few times. The sex that is, and the birth control.”
Daisy picked nervously at the hem of her shorts, pulling at the frayed denim. She could pretend that she was just confessing sins to please her Nana, but if she was being honest, she’d have to admit that she was really bringing up sex specifically to see what his reaction would be. She wasn’t flirting, exactly, but she was trying to push the boundaries, trying to see if she could get a rise (haha) out of him. It was out of character for her to be this forward, and she was uncertain about it, but at the same time, something about being around him made her feel both bold and safe.
She snuck another sideways glance at Chase. He was just as good-looking in profile as he was from the front. Damn, there should seriously be a rule against good-looking priests. It was kind of a waste to have such a good looking guy off the market for no good reason. Not that being a priest wasn’t a good reason, a noble job. Spiritual, and all. But still, it was a little unfortunate.
Or, maybe he was there as a plant. Someone deliberately gorgeous so that women would lust after him…that was one of the big sins, wasn’t it? Lust. So he was like a trap, God trying to rack up as many deadly sins as he could so he’d get more repentance. Maybe God fed off of repentance. Maybe it was like heroin to him.