Page 64 of Intimately Faithful

He’d handled her so good that she’d sat there for more than an hour talking to him.

Now she was back to her old self, hormonal wise and she was bored.

She liked his house just fine, but there was only so much dusting she could do or sorting out the cans in the pantry before she went stark raving bonkers if she didn’t see a blade of grass again soon.

“Can’t we go out somewhere? For a short walk? Or to the grocery shop. I have cabin fever, Danny. If I start crayoning on the walls and talking gibberish, it’ll be all your fault.”

She knew she was complaining about an impossible situation.

Just because Grigori hadn’t been seen yet, didn’t mean he was clueless to her location. She heard enough of his less than lawful skills and it terrified her.

But she was sobored.

“You know we can’t.” The boy of her heart said.

Aoife flung herself down on the chair to sulk a while.

She was about to be on her own again with just the stupid TV for company while he went to work, and she was tired of endless cooking shows and shows about over privileged kids spending too much money.

She wanted fresh air and the noise of traffic and the cold winds on her face.

“When will you be back?”

“Around five. I’m seeing a family about funeral arrangements.”

Her face fell into a frown.

Ugh, now she felt like a right careless sod for thinking selfish things when a family were grieving.

She went to him immediately, winding her arms tightly around his waist from behind, pressing her face into his back.

“Hey, what’s this?”

“I don’t want you to ever die okay, Danny?”

He chuckled. “I’ll try not to.” He brought her around his body even with her snake hold on him. His hands moved down her back and onto her bottom.

Naughty pastor.

Was she a bad whore for getting turned on by thinking that? Yes. And she didn’t care. He could be all the good man his community needed, but inside this house … inside her … he was the sexiest man alive. Brave, domineering, rough and loving.

He was sinful and intoxicating and the only man she needed.

“Try really hard. I want you to be the only man I have.” She muttered with her face pressed into his good smelling chest. What was that scent? Soap… deodorant? Sure. But she knew he wasn’t wearing a fragrance and yet he smelled so musky and manly. She inhaled and clutched onto his slim waist while he laughed again.

“Your first, sweetheart. I’ll always be that, aye.”

Something in his tone had her head lifting and there it was in his darkening eyes.

A possessive stamp she didn’t mind at all.

She grinned with her cheeks puffed out and rosy as tomatoes.

Remembering all too well the first time they had each other.

“First and only.”

Those same bum grabbing hands moved up to sweep her hair back, and he gave her an indulging smile, dropped a kiss on her forehead. She loved him touching her. She loved the consuming touches but also the ones that told her maybe he could love her again one day. “Are you rewriting history, sweetheart?”

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