Page 10 of The Hitman's Omega Priest
Kensley looked all around the near-dark room before glaring at Bishop. “What are you going to do?”
“As little as I can to get us out of this safely. I promise. Please.”
Something in that soft, firm “Please” convinced Kensley. He’d thoroughly enjoyed his evening, conversing with familiar parishioners and a few new-to-him faces, talking up the needs of the orphanage to anyone who’d listen. Kensley craved these precious hours, when he could half-pretend he was a normal man at a gathering of friends, and he’d looked forward to another chance to speak privately with Drew sometime tonight.
Until the moment armed and masked men chose to crash the fundraiser, and Kensley had frozen, no idea what to do other than comply. His first instinct was to protect his fellow priests and parishioners, but Drew had yanked him away from danger like a man perfectly in-charge of the situation. But now Drew was asking him to take his clothes off? To blindly trust him?
He shouldn’t do either but he did. And he had no idea why.
In the near-dark of the janitorial closet, Kensley shed his public frock, which was a step closer to normal clothing than his regular robe, and it left him in only his linen shorts and sleeveless shirt. He shivered in the cool room, unused to being so exposed in front of another person not his doctor. He’d certainly never been completely naked with an adult male in his life—not for lack of wanting, but purely for lack of chance.
Now, he stood in a closet, clad in only his undergarments, vulnerable to anyone’s attack, and a dagger of fear slid into his gut. “Please, don’t hurt me,” Kensley whispered.
“Never. I’m here to protect you.”
“Why?”
Drew raised his hand, fingers hovering by Kensley’s cheek without touching. Kensley wanted to lean in, for those fingers to touch. For someone to touch. He also feared the same.
Something banged distantly, not a gunshot (he prayed), probably a door slamming. With a new jolt of fear chilling him to the bone, Kensley yanked the shirt off over his head, gave it a frantic toss, and then pulled at his shorts. He didn’t understand why, but he trusted Drew. He was far less afraid of being naked with Drew, than of whoever was banging their way toward them.
“On your knees,” Drew said. “If they open the door, follow my lead.”
“Okay.” Kensley dropped to his knees, a familiar position of prayer, but he’d never once done it while clad in his birthday suit. His only consolation was that Drew was watching the door, not Kensley. Kensley gazed up, scared and confused, and he didn’t realize right away what Drew was doing with his hands. Not even when the front panels of Drew’s pants parted and he withdrew his bare penis.
A squawk of protest strangled in Kensley’s throat at the same time as the door knob rattled. Drew’s hand grabbed the back of his head and held his face shockingly close to Drew’s crotch. Musk and sweat met his nose, and Kensley couldn’t help but stare at the shadowy flesh directly in front of his eyes. Flesh that should not be tempting enough for him to lick his lips.
What on earth is happening?
“Security,” a strange male voice snapped as the door squealed open. “What’re you doing in here?”
“Getting my money’s worth,” Drew said in a haughty tone. “You mind?”
Kensley flinched away from the glare of what was probably a flashlight and grabbed the leg of Drew’s pants. He couldn’t think straight with a bare dick this close to his mouth, less than two minutes after armed men stormed his fundraiser. His entire world had turned completely upside down. He didn’t quite understand what his role was, only that he needed to follow Drew’s lead, so he kept his head low and didn’t speak.
“Yeah, I mind,” the stranger said. “How long have you been in here? We had a report of a pickpocketing during tonight’s fundraiser.”
A what? Liar!
“Been about ten minutes,” Drew replied. “Not my first round with the help tonight, and I think the kid is having a little trouble with his technique. If he had any idea how to pick a pocket, I’d have it up and be balls deep in his ass right now.”
The crude words telegraphed an equally crude image into Kensley’s brain, which sent a zing of bizarre energy up Kensley’s spine. And it wasn’t disgust. It was…interest? His hole clenched and his balls tightened, and blood began rushing to his own crotch. Thickening his dick at the most inappropriate time possible—followed by his omega body’s greatest betrayal: he got wet. Sure, Kensley got hard like all other people with dicks, but as an omega male, he also exuded wetness from his anus when excited. Wetness that made it easier for another man to mount him, to fuck him, to fill him with his seed: all evil acts of evil men, according to the priests who’d taught Kensley from puberty onward.
An omega’s arousal could turn otherwise pious men lustful and provoke them to violence, or so said the Holy Scriptures Addendum Twelve. Therefore, men found to be omega should be restricted to the priesthood for their safety, and so as not to tempt the uncontrollable desires of others. Blah, blah, blah.
None of the priests, male or female, were permitted to masturbate, so it had been a long time since Kensley had gotten hard, much less wet, and never once while in a tiny room with two other men. One of whom Kensley knew for sure meant to do him harm. And it had certainly never happened while up-dick-and-personal with another man he trusted implicitly.
“Okay, well,” the stranger said, “we’re searching the premises, so I’d stay put for at least the next fifteen minutes. An officer will come get you when it’s clear.”
“Sure thing, sir,” Drew replied. “We will maintain current positions.”
“All right.” The door shut, and Kensley shivered, as much from relief as the closet’s chill.
Drew released a harsh breath. “That went a lot better than I expected. At least the idiot bought our lie.”
“He isn’t one of our local police officers,” Kensley told Drew’s penis, which was definitely not as flaccid as before. Beat cops regularly checked in at the cathedral, so the priests were aware of their presence in the neighborhood. “I didn’t recognize his voice.”
“He was probably one of the gunmen.” Drew wrapped gentle hands around Kensley’s upper arms and helped him stand, and Kensley nearly combusted with embarrassment as his growing erection brushed Drew’s. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in this position, Kens. It was the first thing I thought of.”
