Page 10 of West Bound
He moves my hands out of the way and cuts through the fabric. It falls to the sides, revealing my simple white cotton bra underneath. I blink up at him and place a hand over my chest, which does nothing at all in the way of achieving modesty in these conditions.
“Take that slip off unless you need me to cut it too.” It’s another rough demand. I stand slowly, hooking my fingers under the elastic waistband, and manage to pull it off without taking my underwear with it. He averts his eyes, sparing me more humiliation.
He wraps me in the fluffy white cotton, giving me an ounce of my dignity back and the slightest promise of warmth around my core. He moves us to the small bathroom attached to my room, cranking the hot water on. His eyes dart over my form, less in the interested way I’ve seen him do when he thinks I’m not looking, and more like he’s studying a specimen under a microscope, making sure I’m all in one piece and nothing too much is out of sorts. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and immediately regret it. I’m even paler than usual, my soaking redhair is plastered to the sides of my face, and my cheeks are bright pink as my body attempts to bring me back up to temperature.
“What about you?” I manage to chatter out the question while pulling the towel tighter around me. He’s still drenched, and his clothes are sticking to every inch of his skin. I’ve never seen a priest with this kind of body, but given that most of the ones I've known have been headed for retirement, maybe I just didn’t have the right sample size. I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’m too busy just trying to feel my fingers again.
“I’m going to my room to clean up. Then I’ll come back to check on you.” He’s already on his way out the door. Apparently, now that I’m no longer near death, he can’t wait to get away from me.
“Careful with how much noise you make on the way back. It’s late, and the abbess hates being woken up,” I remind him, as if he doesn’t already know about the rules. I would just hate to see him get reprimanded for the trouble I caused.
He nods and disappears out the door to my room. I finish undressing in the bathroom, feeling another round of chill coming on before I hurry to climb into the shower. The water is a blessing and a curse, feeling scalding hot against my chilled skin but finally providing the real warmth I've been seeking. I close my eyes and lean against the tiled wall as it hits my body and shoulders.
I have no idea how I’m going to make up for this mess. I can imagine the looks on Aria and Tamara’s faces when I tell them I nearly kissed the man and then forced him to jump into a dark, watery abyss just to keep me from drowning. And that’s after today’s earlier incident, where I confessed that I think about him in the middle of the night. I feel like crying at how pathetic it sounds when I hear it laid out like that, but I only manage to force a weak and wretched groaning sound from my chest, my tears still too frozen to fall.
But as Abbess Frances would say, time marches on, and so must we. So I reach for the soap and start to lather it up slowly, almost too tired to move. Nights like this, I almost miss home. Almost, but not quite.
I’d hit my bed early, and then I’d sort out this mess in my head about Father Levi’s priestly credentials and my greatest embarrassment yet. But I can’t stop myself from thinking back through every interaction we’ve had, every word he’s spoken to me from the moment we met until just now on the pier.
Was he a priest with a past? I couldn’t judge him for that. Mine is one I’d leave at the bottom of the lake if I could. The fewer people who know about who I was before I crossed the convent threshold, the better. But for him… why hide it? He couldn’t possibly have such a dark past, could he? If he did, it would paint everything about our budding friendship in a different light. I swallow a shallow breath as I stare at the tile of the shower.
SIX
Levi
I needthe trip to Munich this weekend. I’m texting Rowan the second I get out of this shower on the backup burner I have stashed away. It’s an emergency. Anything to get off this island and away from those big, blue, needy eyes staring at me like I’m the best thing she’s ever seen. I can’t take much more of it. Not in my current state.
The fact that I’m standing with my hand wrapped around my cock in this tiny convent dorm room shower where I have to duck to even get my hair under the water to wash it, seriously considering jacking off to thoughts of a nun, tells me my time here needs to come to a close. A vacation from it at least. I’ve exceeded my tolerance for a lack of vice, and now my dick is settling for whatever vanilla fucking fantasy it can conjure up. One where she’s in her white cotton granny panties and T-shirt bra, asking if there’s any possible way she can thank me for saving her life.
I tighten my grip and take one long stroke of my fist, grinding my teeth at the way it lights up all my nerve endings. I’mdying for the real thing though—for the warmth of her thighs straddling my lap while I listen to her breathe fast and heavy. A chance to listen to her voice tell me how good my cock feels while she grinds over it. Watching that perfect little body of hers chase an orgasm. I could give her that much, couldn’t I?
“Fuck,” I curse, tearing my hand away from my dick.
I’m not giving in. Not until I can imagine someone else in her place. I don’t need that tacked on to the ever-growing list of embarrassing shit I’ve done on this work trip. I’m better than this.
If I wasn’t just back from the brink of hypothermia, I’d douse myself in the icy water that’s always readily available from these faucets. In lieu of that, I rush to finish my shower and put on a fresh set of clothes. I snatch my glasses off the table and clean them one more time. I’d shoved them in my buttoned shirt pocket before jumping in after her, and managed not to lose them in the water, but they’re still ice-cold and fogged up.
I’ll check on her, say my goodnights, and starting tomorrow, I’m going to begin treating her like a mark again. I shove my glasses back onto my face, adjusting the temple tips on my ears. They’re slightly bent and a little worse for wear. Just like me. Exactly the reason why I have to get back to brass tacks. No cutesy conversations about her favorite things or watching her dance to her favorite songs in the middle of the night. From now on, it’s business. Nothing more, nothing less.
Twenty minutes later,I’m headed to her room one last time. I just want to make sure she hasn’t frozen to death and check her ankle isn’t swelling. I tell myself I’m not worried about her. It’s just that the last thing I need is for her to be booked offto a hospital where I don’t have access to her. I have to wrap this job up quickly, get what I need from the archives, see if she’s a dead end, or has something we can use, locate a relic if there is one, and get the fuck back to Colorado.
I rap my knuckles lightly on her door, not wanting to make enough noise to wake her neighbors. We don’t need suspicious eyes on us at this hour of the night. She’s right about that much. I don’t even know how we’d explain it either, since the truth seems almost as implausible as a lie.
“Hi.” She answers the door quietly, cracking it open.
“Just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re all right. Warmed up?” I give her my best priestly look of concern.
“Yes, come in.” She opens the door and steps aside, urging me in as she eyes the hallway suspiciously.
I get a better look at her little dorm room now that I’m not worried about stripping her out of cold clothes and avoiding hypothermia. It’s small, with bare stone walls and a few alcoves for religious items. There are no photos, no mementos, nothing that might give me more clues about her. The small lamp in the corner bathes the room in a yellow-orange glow, and her bed is still neatly made, not a wrinkle to be seen, like she hasn’t even sat down yet.
“Can I get you some tea? It’s really helping me warm up,” she offers, nodding to her own glass. I don’t really want tea, but Father Levi would probably take what he was offered. Accepting Christian charity and all that, like the abbess was always going on about. I can't speak German for shit, but the time I’ve spent on the island has me understanding a lot more than I did in college. Even if half of it is Bavarian. I could thank the abbess for that.
“Sure. Sounds good.” I nod, and she immediately sets to work getting me my own cup.
“Coming right up.” She glances back and gives me a small half smile for my cooperation in this awkward dance we’re doing. It turns out that a missed forbidden kiss and a near drowning don’t have much of a playbook to follow.
“How are you feeling? Still cold?” I ask as I sit gingerly down on the edge of her bed and watch her pour herself another cup of tea at her desk. It’s littered with ceremonial items she appears to be cleaning, some I recognize, some I don’t. All of it glittering in low light and casting prisms on the ceiling and walls.
