A tiny light winked in the far corner of all the monitors, so discreet I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t hyperaware of what it was.
Before I could stop myself, I reached for the mouse and brought the screen to life.
I felt a pang of guilt every time I saw Rafael walking toward his rectory at the end of the day, but I told myself I’d put up the camera to make sure he was safe. That he wasn’t getting mugged outside the small apartment he kept at St. Andrews.
It was mostly a lie, of course, one that stabbed me in the chest every time I watched him. Something that was happening more and more lately, which I blamed on the close proximity during every non-confession I made.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since I’d been in that booth with him again, the silence between us thick and heavy, his goddamn cologne in my nose. I could still smell it now like he was here as I watched him unlock his door. He wore his usual black attire, dress pants and a button-up shirt with the white collar that gave away his profession. From the back you’d never guess he was a priest, though, not with the way his lean, athletic body filled out those pants. He was so tall, six-four, and too fucking attractive to be a priest.
Attractivewasn’t the right term for him.Stunningly beautifulwas.
His short, perfectly parted blond hair gleamed under the street light as he stepped inside the rectory, and I only caught a glimpse of his face as he turned to shut the door.
That was it. That was all I got.
It was still too much.
I shut off the monitor and closed my eyes, but that only had memories of last night assaulting me instead. His voice, low and devastating as he’d whispered my name.
There had been none of the usual blessing I’d heard him give others when they left the booth, telling them to go in peace. If he’d dared say that to me, I might’ve broken my silence to tell him off.
“Peace,” I muttered, and scoffed under my breath. I hadn’t known peace since I’d known Rafael, and that had been most of my fucking life. The hold he had on me should’ve snapped the second he decided I didn’t have a place in his future. That should’ve been enough for me to walk away.
But here I was, alone at dinnertime, watching Rafael’s door like a goddamn creeper.
“Fuck this.” I reached out to kill the feed and the screen went mercifully black. It didn’t loosen the tension in my shoulders, though, and when the itch to turn it back on remained, I stood up so fast my chair flew back.
No more watching—tonight. I couldn’t promise I’d have the strength tomorrow to stop, but tonight I could get the fuck out of here.
I shut everything down and headed out of my own personal sanctuary, up the long corridor that led to the entry of Libertine, only I wasn’t planning on leaving. Temptation would still be there at my place, so I stepped into the elevator instead and punched the number five before I could tell myself this was a bad idea.
And it was. A terrible idea. But I needed to forget, and there was one place in this building that was designed for just that.
My heart beat fast as the elevator dropped me off on the fifth floor, and I stared at the two doors before me. One black, one red, the former containing an even more unholy variety of pleasures than the other, ones that I had little desire in participating in. Bondage and multiple partners weren’t where I got my thrills.
No, you choose to torture yourself alone with the thought of a man you can’t have.
I gritted my teeth and opened the red door, instantly assaulted with the heavy beat from the music I could feel pulsating beneath my feet. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness,I could see the many delicious sins taking place around the club—men coupled up against walls, couches, anywhere they could leverage to get each other off.
This was Lucien’s domain, and my brother had designed this place to entice and provoke. To undo restraint and welcome fantasies, however depraved they may be.
Which was exactly what happened behind the black door, but in here, it was more about the casual hookup.
I walked through the room, my hands shoved into my pockets, hoping I would feel a pull or a spark to someone. Anyone.
I needed this, and tonight I was going to allow myself to indulge the way a normal thirty-two-year-old would.
There was no denying it was hot as hell to watch two men, completely naked and fucking with abandon, over one of the tables, their sweat-slicked skin gleaming under the strobe lights and making my dick ache.
But it wasn’t because I wanted to join them.
I moved on, catching the eye of a dancer on one of the stages wearing the tiniest of G-strings. He held my gaze and his lips curved in invitation.
This was it. My chance. I’d take him up on his offer, spend a few mind-blowing minutes fucking or getting fucked, and that was it. It was all I needed to get rid of the invasive thoughts of ripping a certain someone’s collar off and wrapping my lips around his cock.
The dancer curled his finger at me, beckoning me closer, and I willed myself to move toward him. He was attractive, shorter and darker-haired than my usual type, but his body was fit, his ass plump and perfect, and…
I wanted this. Really, I did.
