Page 22 of Church Girl
Knowing what he’s talking about and experiencing it? Two totally different things. And while my mind is all,Girl, please. You pass out after one flutter of that rose against your clit, my body—okay, my vagina, my whole vagina—is yelling,Assume the position and get your back broke!
It’s very disconcerting.
Maybe a tiny, secret-even-from-myself part of me didn’t accept the...vanilla kind of relationship I would have had with Gregory. But I would’ve walked down that aisle even if I wasn’t fully content. Satisfied.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
Just one look into Von’s beautiful gray eyes has my poor kitty cat throbbing in a way that makes me acutely aware of what I’ve been lacking.
As he moves into the living room, that silver gaze centered on me, it takes every bit of control not to lower my eyes to avoid the intensity that seems to be part and parcel of him.
“Hey.” He stops next to the couch, taking in my curled up legs and the pad in my lap before returning his scrutiny to my face. Quickly, I shove the sketch pad and pencils back in my bag. “Gia in bed?”
Grudgingly, I give him cool points for asking about his daughter first. I can’t say he doesn’t love Gia and put her welfare first. Too bad he’s an ass about it.
See? He’s already a bad influence. Got me cursing. Even to myself.
“Yes, she’s been out like a light for the last ten minutes or so.”
He nods. “You fuck my truck up?”
I squint at him. “No.”
“You didn’t reply to my text after you got back here.”
“Sorry about that. I figured the text before that telling you we made it home would suffice.”
“I don’t pay you to ‘figure’ anything. Especially not when it comes to Gia. Until both of us are comfortable with this new arrangement, I’m staying on your ass about my daughter. I don’t play about that one.”
Had I said he was beautiful? That attitude makes him look like an orc.
“I understand,” I say, proud of the unbothered note in my voice.
“How did the day go? You make out okay?”
“It went well. We made slime, had lunch, came back, completed her schoolwork, played some games and then got prison tats to commemorate the day’s success.”
Oh God. Did I say that out loud?
“Yeah, ma, you did,” he says, and though his tone remains even, his eyes narrow on me.
I wince and try to make up for my loose lips. “I’m sorry. Not a good time for humor—”
“No, it isn’t. Not when it comes to my daughter.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologize again and rise from the couch. Now seems as good a time as any to get out of here. While I still have a job. “Well, if that’s all, I’ll get going. What time should I be here in the morning?” I ask, grabbing my purse and my phone. I tap on the rideshare app. By the time I put on my coat and make it outside, my Uber should be here. And I can leave before I talk myself out of a job.
“What’re you doing?” he asks.
“Just requesting an Uber.” I frown. Well shoot. The nearest one is ten minutes away. There’s no telling what might fly out of my mouth given that amount of time. Anything from “Your daughter must get her sunny disposition from her mother” to “You must work out a lot, huh? Tattooing don’t give you thighs like that.”
“Nah, cancel that. You’re not going to need it.”
I glance up from my phone. “I’m not?” Then it dawns on me what he’s saying, and I’m shaking my head so hard, the end of my high ponytail smacks the corner of my eye. “No, I appreciate the thought, but you don’t have to give me a ride. I’m fine. And besides, you shouldn’t wake Gia after she’s already in bed. I have pepper spray on my key chain that my cousin bought me the first day I got here...”
My babbling trails off when I realize that,A, I’m babbling, andB, he’s silently staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. Or I could be projecting.
“You finished?” he finally asks.
