He’d been nothing but gentle, quiet, composed.
This…this wasn’t like that.
I moaned into him, dragging him closer by the front of his shirt until our chests brushed together and my knees tightened around his hips. He tasted like sweet tea from the restaurant, like summer heat, like every damn thing I’d been craving.
God help me, I wanted him.
I wanted to haul him into this truck and let him have his way with me in the parking lot.
I wanted to go back to the church with him and forget about the world, about every reason we shouldn’t.
I wanted to bury my hands in his long, dark hair, and press my body against his and say yes, yes,yes.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, like he was testing the boundaries of how much he could take—how much we could both stand. His hips pressed forward instinctively, letting me feel the hard length trapped in his jeans, and my back arched in response, a needy sound slipping from my lips before I could stop it.
That made him freeze.
His breath hitched, and he pulled back just enough to look at me—his lips red and kiss-bruised, eyes wild with want. His hand was still at the back of my neck, his thumb brushing against the hinge of my jaw.
“I’ve been tryin’ not to want this,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “Tryin’ like hell.”
I swallowed hard. “Me too.”
His eyes darkened at that.
Then he dropped his head again, pressing a softer kiss tothe corner of my mouth. “We need to go,” he murmured against my cheek, voice cracking like it hurt to say it. “Before I do something I’ll regret doin’ in front of every damn gossip in town.”
I almost laughed—but I didn’t, because I didn’t want to break the spell. Instead, I reached up and touched his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone, jaw, lips.
“I wouldn’t let you regret it,” I whispered.
He let out a rough breath and backed away, like it physically pained him to move. He shut the door, hard enough to make the frame rattle, then stalked around to the driver’s side and slid in beside me with a muttered curse under his breath.
The drive back to the church was short…but it felt infinite.
Every second stretched between us like a live wire, like we were teetering on the edge of something big and terrifying. I could feel his thigh near mine on the bench seat. I could feel his pulse in the air. I could feel how close we were to doing something neither of us could take back.
And we got started as soon as he pulled into the gravel lot behind the parsonage.
We both moved just after he killed the engine, meeting halfway—our lips crashing together, Silas hauling me into his lap. I straddled him, my knees bracketing his hips as he kissed me like he was starving for it—like he didn’t care that the windows were fogging just a block or two from Main Street. His mouth was hot and demanding, tongue slick against mine, fingers roaming greedily beneath my shirt and over the bare skin of my back.
“Thought about you,” he was saying. “Thought about you all the fuckin’ time. Should’a called…”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I gasped.
He fuckingsnarledwhen I ground down against him, the hard line of his cock trapped between us. I was panting, my hands threaded in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
I hadn’t realized how bad I wanted this,needed it.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered. “Please.”
I don’t know how…but somehow, he did exactly as I asked.
Silas yanked the door open and slid out of the car, swaying slightly as he took me into his arms. My legs were still wrapped around him as he strode to the parsonage door, pulled it open, and carried me across the threshold like a man possessed.
I didn’t care that it was dark.
I didn’t care that I could barely see a thing.
