Page 50 of Savior

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

He can’t help me if I tell him, but he doesn’t know that.

Fuck it.

“Remember that you asked for it,” I preface.

“Well, now I’m concerned.”

As you should be.

Leaning in, I hover close to his ear. “Last night, I had a very… indecent dream. It left me a bit… horny, for lack of a better term. I didn’t want you touching me because it made it worse.”

His breathing has gotten deeper, and the air between us is charged when I pull back enough to look into his dark eyes.

His next swallow bobs his Adam’s apple. “Maybe you were right. This isn’t a conversation that should happen here. But thank you for being honest with me. Though, I don’t know what you could’ve had a dream about that worked you up like that, especially after all you’ve gone through recently.”

Blush fills my cheeks, but I decide I’m already this far gone. What’s the harm in going further? I’ve already reserved my spot in hell at this point.

“I dreamt you fucked me right here in the cathedral. Over a pew. You made me scream your name, and it bounced off all the steepled peaks of the ceiling and stained glass. I woke with my hand down my panties, but I knew that what I could do wouldn’t sate the urge. It would’ve only made it worse.”

“Sloane,” he groans, turning forward to angle away from me.

“You asked me for my truth, Father. I gave it to you. Don’t regret asking now that it’s out.”

“I don’t.”

A long stretch of silence trickles down upon us like the answer to a prayer.

“A truth for a truth?” he asks.

“Sure.”

He turns, pinning me in a darkened stare. “I would’ve loved to watch you wake from that dream, loved to watch you touch yourself. To hear you scream my name as you came.”

My heart is pounding so hard I can scarcely hear a thing past it.

“We can’t do that,” I croak.

He shakes his head. “We shouldn’t.”

I notice how he disagrees in a way that leaves the option hanging in the air. My foolish heart hopes it’s because he’s bending. He’s relaxing, and there’s something so palpable between us that neither he nor I can stop.

It’s a runaway train, and we’re along for the ride.

No matter who it ruins on its journey.

“What can we do?” I ask meekly, not recognizing the tone of my voice at all.

“Dinner?”

I turn forward, feeling good for both of us, having faced this monumental thing between us. It’s no longer the elephant in the room. However, now that it’s out, it’ll be more challenging to ignore and harder to fight. And I hope it doesn’t get one of us spurned.

“Dinner,” I agree.

He shifts and grabs the baked goods before giving them to me. “You take these home, and I’ll be there shortly. I’ll order us some food. Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Standing, I use the same door he led me to return outside and out into the cold air.

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