Preacher Dom

by Lucian Bane

  “What!? He is! You have a problem with that?”

  By now, Daniel’s relief and joy had him only laughing more. Fuck he wanted to hug her. No, he realized, dropping next to her. He wanted to do a lot more than that to her.

  She shoved him with her shoulder and he shoved her back, grinning at her. “Hi God’s Girlfriend.”

  “Hi yourself, God’s Bratty Boy,” she said, making Gramma G laugh this time.

  “You got that one right. Bratty as they come. Josh, you need to come by some night so we can catch up. How about this Friday, I’ll cook up my famous chili.”

  “Well, now that’s an offer a man can’t refuse.”

  Daniel regarded Josh, finding his twinkling eyes on Nineveh still. Yeah. The chase was on for that little punk.

  “I’ll teach Nineveh my secrets,” Gramma G whispered to her.

  “Oh yay,” Nineveh said, kicking her feet in the water. “Ouch, so cold!”

  “Oh yeah,” Josh said. “It’ll be warm enough to swim in a couple months. Until then, I have a pool, if you guys ever want to come use it.”

  “Thought you’d be married by now with seven kids,” Daniel said, squinting up at Josh who boomed his laugh. “He was always getting all the girls,” Daniel said to Nineveh, reminding her that Josh was a player from the time he was eight.

  “Ah,” Nineveh said, nodding then angling a look at Daniel. “What about you?” She turned to Gramma. “Was Daniel being chased by girls?”

  “Ohhhh, yes indeed. The only reason he didn’t have more girlfriends is cause he could outrun them.”

  They all laughed and Daniel nodded. “Very funny, Gramma G. Very funny.”

  But she was right, Daniel was always running from the girls when they weren’t chasing Josh.

  “Well, if I had been there, I would’ve caught him.” Nineveh dug her nails in his side, making him jerk around and grab for her hands.

  “Stop,” he ordered.

  “Or what? You’re gonna run?”

  “I’ll get you back.”

  “I’m not even ticklish,” she challenged.

  Daniel let her go and she dug her fingers again. “That’s it,” he said, right as she shot up and ran.

  Daniel chased her as she screamed all the way back to the house. She ran inside and upstairs and he followed, clear to her room where she screamed and held her hands up while sitting on the bed.

  Daniel tackled her and wrestled her arms above her head. She was breathless with laughter, kicking and screaming. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

  “Stop!” she squealed, her head thrashing.

  With no hands to tickle with, he lowered his mouth biting at her shoulder then growling in her neck, her squealing laughter bringing his own.

  “Get off, get off, I can’t breathe.”

  He pulled up and she suddenly leaned and pecked her lips on his, smiling at him.

  “You’re being a tease.”

  “You can’t be teased, you’re holy,” she whispered.

  “You think so?”

  She nodded a lot and Daniel lowered, pressing his lips against hers. All the laughing stopped and the feel of her hot breath lit him on fire but the small moan of surprise caused him to push her lips open for a deeper taste.

  She gasped when Daniel forced himself to roll off of her. “Sorry,” he gushed, fighting to breathe around his arousal.

  “No, I’m… I’m the sorry one. Oh God,” she barely cried. “Now I’m lying. I’m not sorry. Not one bit. Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what?” he barely muttered, not trusting his voice.

  “For… giving me my first real kiss,” she said quietly.

  Daniel sat there, everything crashing inside him. His thoughts collided with scriptures until it was a tangled mess of confusion. What was he doing? He suddenly needed to know something. “Why did you leave that day, Nineveh?”

  He waited in the silence for her answer. He’d waited long enough to finally ask her that. Why would she do that, why would she leave when she seemed so ready to change her life?

  “I just…” She went quiet for a bit then took a huge breath. “I was… I was jealous, okay? It was stupid, I saw that…foreign goddess in your arms and it occurred to me that… that I was… I was not able to do the Daniel fast, you were too much for me to resist, to not need. And… I didn’t want to make it weird, you know? Be all clingy and fall in love and maybe die from wanting something I couldn’t have. There, all said,” she finished lightly.

  Daniel stood, needing air from those words. Out of all the amazing things she’d ever said to him, those burned him the most.

  “I’m sorry!” she called as he hurried out the room. “I know it was stupid.”

  Daniel locked himself in his room and dropped to his knees. Please. Please, I’m begging you, God. What the fuck am I doing? What? I’m falling so hard for her. Tell me what You want from me with her, tell me clearly!

  ****

  Nineveh woke up, remembering where she was. Not in Hell. In Paradise. Even after the seventh day of waking there, she had to remind herself each time.

  As usual, her heart and stomach lurched as Daniel hit her mind. Oh God, his kiss. Her heart instantly hammered out of control as she touched her lips and held her chest. She slowly closed her eyes and moaned in agony at feeling the memory. How would she ever do a Daniel fast now? She was so doomed to torture. That’s what it would be around him now, sweet, impossible, torture. How would she look at his mouth and not feel those lips pressed into hers? She could hardly breathe at recalling the feel of his tongue in her mouth! Dear God she felt like a thirteen-year-old with her first kiss even though she never really had a first kiss! Not one she could remember, not like that.

  God, she didn’t care. She didn’t care if she would have to suffer around him, just so she could be around him. Maybe she could… secretly pretend she was his sub and was fulfilling his wishes by being a perfect angel. And maybe… she might pray for a miracle. That somehow he would find her worthy of… something more than a charity case.

  She sat up, smiling around at her new life. She remembered that this giant cabin was once a vacation home to Daniel’s family. She wanted so much to heal that part of him. Or at least be able to offer him comfort. She’d spent every day doing everything she could for him, every chance she got. Fixing him food, drinks, cleaning the house, doing the laundry. She loved doing his laundry. It was the closest thing to touching him and she did it carefully and perfectly. She’d set it on his bed, hoping he saw her efforts, and not her secret perversion.

  The Daniel fast. She’d fallen so far off that wagon. Felt like some dumb idea she’d had in a past life now. She didn’t want to go on that fast. Her stomach knotted with their conversation following that kiss he gave her. Her ugly confession about how unstable and immature she was. Then he’d just left and she had no idea if he was mad or not about it. Maybe it was pathetic to settle for the scraps of affection he gave her, but they were so perfect. They nourished her, sustained her. Okay, if she were honest, they lit her on fire and she was an out of control, quietly raging inferno inside.

  But she made sure to hide it. The one vow she still maintained was not trying to force anything. Or encourage it. No, that was another lie. She was sucking at that part of the vow. But that’s because there were times she felt as if he liked it. She would only encourage when she saw he might want it. Had she been imagining it?

  She remembered his kiss, her heart leaping in her chest.

  She climbed out of bed and paused at seeing something near the door. She walked over to it and lifted an envelope. Was it mail? She turned over the blank white envelope, finding it unsealed. She opened the flap and pulled out a folded card, her heart racing at finding the neatly penned word Proposition across the front. Oh shit.

  She looked at it again, sliding her finger along the edge, then flipped it open quickly.

  Will you be my Protegee?

  Sign yes for more details.

&
nbsp; Seal the envelope.

  Slip it under my door.

  Daniel

  Nineveh’s heart pounded as she stared at those words, trying to catch her breath. Be his Protegee? What was that? To him? She was pretty sure it was a kind of… business partner. Or student. Oh shit, did he want to… be her bible teacher? Or maybe do something as a team or business? Was that what he’d been researching?

  She looked around and hurried to the bed opening the drawer on the little table. She found the pen she’d put in there and placed the note card on the table and wrote her answer.

  Y.E.S. She put a smiley face with a tongue sticking out so he knew she was happy. Then she signed her name at the bottom. Shit, there wasn’t enough room. She put the final eh on the back of the card and drew an arrow over the first part of her name then slid it back in the envelope, licked and sealed it.

  She needed to shower before dressing but also wanted to return his note in case he was waiting for it. She crept downstairs quietly in pajama shorts and top. She peeked around, finding every room empty as she tiptoed to his room directly beneath hers on the first floor. She listened at his door for a few seconds and quickly slipped the note underneath then tiptoe ran back upstairs.

  After Nineveh’s shower, she dressed in her favorite pale-yellow dress made of terrycloth. It was so comfortable and the elastic material at the top allowed her to not need a bra. As she carefully applied minimal make-up, in keeping with her anti-ho vows, she wondered where Daniel was. Had he seen the note?

  She finished fixing her hair in the bathroom mirror, selecting a small ribbon from her modest hair accessories she’d purchased in the little town. She smiled at the woman in the mirror and realized she meant it. She liked her. She even thought she was beautiful.

  She exited the bathroom and froze at seeing another note on her floor. Her heart hammered as she raced and picked it up, tearing it open. She flipped open the card.

  Business meeting--8:00 o’clock tonight.

  On the balcony.

  Don’t be late.

  Daniel

  She smiled, always getting a thrill when he was authoritative. What was he planning? It wasn’t her birthday or anything. Was this some kind of celebration he was surprising her with? No, it said business meeting. It had something to do with that initial proposition.

  Chapter Thirteen

  At 7:00 pm, Nineveh was a little worried. She’d not seen Daniel once all day. She wanted to verify the time but couldn’t. It’s not that she didn’t trust him, it was more she didn’t trust herself to not make some stupid mistake. She’d cooked and done everything she could possibly think to do before finally going upstairs. She looked around for anymore letters, hoping he hadn’t somehow put one in her room while she wasn’t looking and she’d missed it.

  No letters.

  She sat on the bed, grabbing up the Bible Gramma loaned her and opened it. She read blindly for a few minutes, her ears listening for any sounds. She shut the book and flopped back on the bed, arms spread wide. Torture.

  She glanced at the clock on the night table. 7:15. Christ. Forty-five more minutes. Maybe she could just be early. Should she bring refreshments?

  No…. she’d just do as told. Nothing more.

  She made her way to the bathroom, looking at herself. She turned her face left then right. Maybe a new hair-do.

  She opened the big drawer on the vanity and pulled out a curling iron. Plugging it in, she stood there making faces in the mirror while waiting for it to heat up. She picked up several shades of lipstick. Hmm. Maybe a tad darker shade for night time.

  She leaned forward and applied the rich red carefully, then pressed her lips together, smearing it evenly. “Whoooa, biiiitch,” she muttered, yanking a few tissues from the box on the vanity top. She dabbed most of it off, leaving only a dark shadow of color. Like… she angled her head, puckering. Like her lips were naturally dark.

  Ten more seconds of staring and she decided they just looked chapped.

  Go with gloss. Nice and shiny. Inviting.

  She added the gloss, inspecting again. Yeah. That works. Not like it would even be there in the next fifteen minutes.

  Grabbing the curling iron, she decided to use the last of her time to create cute banana curls all over.

  She stared at the end product, panic quickly setting in. Shit, she looked like a child, not a woman. Shit. She passed her fingers through all the ringlets, then gasped at the result. “Fuck” she shrilled at the poofy mess.

  Dear God, help me. Just gonna put the ribbon back in. She stared at herself, tying the bow. Shiiiiit. She yanked the ribbon out and gathered her hair together in a ponytail on the top of her head. Oh my God, I look like a fucking groomed poodle!

  She yanked the rubber band out then shot a look at the clock. 7:50! Wow. She turned on the sink and began wetting her hair then tore the brush through it. Yanking the blow dryer out, she turned it on and wagged it a hundred miles an hour at her head while eying the minutes on the clock. At 7:55, she turned it off, brushed her hair, yanked the curling iron plug out of the wall and headed out. She would not be late.

  When Nineveh stepped onto the balcony, her heart stuttered at finding Daniel already there. Shit. She wasn’t late. He was early.

  He looked at his watch as she sat across from him at the small table. “Right on time.”

  “Yes,” she said, noting his tone. Like she’d passed her first test of qualifications. That was easy. She noticed he was wearing his usual, fitted white t-shirt. She assumed he had jeans on, he seemed to always wear them. Was a pity even though he looked amazing in them. Would be nice to see him in… less.

  “I’m going to ask you some questions, if that’s okay? Like a verbal application.”

  She nodded, adjusting herself in her chair. So it was a job. “Sure.”

  “Just answer yes or no unless I press for any details.”

  “Got it.”

  “Some of the questions are psychological, others are randomly thrown in. By the time I’m done with my questions, you should have an idea of the business arrangement I have in mind.”

  “I understand,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap. She realized he had a pad and pen before him.

  “I need your full name.”

  “Nineveh Grace Johanson.”

  “Spell them, please.”

  She did and then waited, scraping at her nails.

  “Your date of birth?” He looked at her. “Oh, and if at any time you don’t want to answer a question, let me know. You have that option.”

  She nodded then gave her date of birth.

  “So you’re 28 years old?” he asked to which she nodded.

  He continued asking basic questions about health, family history, a lot like a doctor patient form minus the strange diseases you never knew the meaning of.

  “Moving on to the more psychological questions,” he said. “Do you have issues following orders?”

  “Uh. No and yes.”

  “Explain, please.”

  “I have no issues if the orders don’t violate… God.” Yes, that felt right.

  He wrote her answer, his expression appearing more ominous in the balcony’s poor lighting. She stared around at the woods while waiting.

  His next round of questions were all about intellectual things, or more like her appetite for that, her preferences.

  She still had no idea, yet, what his business even was that he was proposing.

  “On a scale of 1-10, 1 being unnoticeable, ten being agonizing, what would you say your pain threshold is?”

  Pain threshold. Nineveh’s stomach erupted in flutters. “I… I’m not understanding the question.”

  “I mean what level of pain is too much for you? What can you take?”

  “Uhh. S-s… probably five.”

  He wrote the answer and she bit her tongue on her own questions, waiting. What sort of risks did this business have? He’d said psychological questions, maybe it had nothing to do with literal pain
but how she handled it.

  “I’m moving on to the defining part of this application.”

  “Okay,” she said, back to wringing her fingers in her lap and wagging her feet that were crossed at the ankles.

  “I asked if you wanted to be my protegee. This means you would be under me in authority. That you would be required to follow my orders and not question my final judgments. Do you think you could do that?”

  “Yes… if…”

  “Go on,” he said, when she stopped and lowered her head.

  “If it doesn’t violate God’s will.”

  He wrote again, and her body now hummed with curiosity and fear.

  “On a scale of 1-10, 1 being not at all, ten being implicitly, how much do you trust me?”

  She considered it, biting her tongue on the reflexive response of 10. She needed to think. She finally nodded, positive with her first answer. “10.”

  He wrote again and she swallowed, getting more nervous.

  “Do you understand that when I say you would be under my authority, that it means every part of you would be under my authority?”

  She stared at him, her heart stuttering. Was he… was he talking about what she thought he was? Or was she wishfully thinking it up? “I… I don’t follow. I don’t understand.”

  “Do you understand…” he began lower, slower, “that when I say you would be under my authority, that it means, every… single… part of you, inside…and out… All would be under my command.”

  “To… to do what?”

  She finally looked at him when he didn’t answer, worried she’d made a mistake. At meeting his burning gaze, her breath froze. “To do… exactly as I want. All that I want. How I want. When I want. Where I want.”

  Oh God. Her heart was officially between her legs as her lips parted for more oxygen. She didn’t have to think of the answer but she didn’t want to appear too eager, too desperate and pathetic.

  “I understand,” she said.

  “I will ask you one final time,” he said softly. “Now that you understand the nature of our business… Do you want… to be my protegee.”

  “Yes,” she answered, swallowing down a hundred gasps.