dragon’s
lair; and Sara, the lamb, brought home for slaughter.
It mattered not that she was a sinner of
the worst kind. What mattered was she didn’t think she would come out of this
unscathed.
Chapter
Eight
Christian could see Sara was putting too
much thought into their night. The only way to stop such a dangerous process
was to keep her and her thoughts as busy as possible.
He grabbed Sara’s hand and pulled her
directly into his living room. The safest room in the house, and of which
should put her a bit more at ease while in his company.
Unfortunately, a loud groan slipped out
of the back of his throat when discovering a huge array of books set out on his
couch, and a folded note left on top one of the stacks. Those books put there
by the doting members of the Ladies Guild, no less. They must have come into
his home while he’d been with Sara at the restaurant.
Somehow, it completely slipped from mind
he had to deal with all eighty of these books before tomorrow morning. Such a
daunting task would certainly sustain a huge blow to the desires of the night. Christian’s
intention had been dead set on more than a little foreplay while on his couch.
He was a man. She was a woman. Both were consenting adults. He may be a Reverend,
but that did not mean he was dead and could not fully enjoy the beauty and
pleasure of a good woman.
He served God in the Church and within
the community, but when inside his own home, he planned to serve only his
needs. Saint Christian, he was not. He might have repented his sins last
Sunday, but tonight was not Sunday and he planned adding more to the lot.
The alternative would be to entertain
Sara in the kitchen, but his kitchen was an absolute mess. He left in a hurry
this morning and knew there were more than a few dirty dishes in the sink than
clean in the cupboards.
The kitchen was not nearly as messed as
the hallway and the foyer, but damn close to it.
What had he been thinking bringing Sara
here?
Christian hadn’t been. He’d gone with
his gut. Well, in all honesty, a man’s gut stayed out of the equation and what
below that man’s gut controlling most of this night; and likely to get him into
a whole lot of trouble by the end of it.
The second Sara told him she was not
wearing any underwear while they stood in a dark parking lot, empty of human
judgment and judgmental stares, Christian had turned into mortal man, dying to
sin. He’d redirected the Reverend Mohr part of his being to take a back seat. In
fact, he suspected the shock of her words was what pushed him in this
direction. Not only theosophical, he was a theoretical man and needed earthly
things proven; before committed to believing.
God was the only thing he believed in
wholeheartedly. All else must be proven.
He turned his face to hers and gave Sara
a wry smile. “It’ll only take me a second to remove the books.”
He was about to, but Sara stopped the
action. “No. Leave the books there, Christian,” she said, a catch heard in her voice.
His hand on one book, he bid, “But . .
.”
Sara smiled. A sinful, dangerous smile
made by a particularly sinful and dangerous woman, who had barely little
clothing on her person and a seductive twinkle in her eyes. “We both know what
is going to happen here tonight. Let’s not play any more games with each other pretending
that it’s not.”
Christian straightened his shoulders,
stood tall, and looked her dead to rites. “And what game is it that you’re
referring too, Sara?” His voice was a tight rasp due to the heady desire he
desperately held back.
She smiled sweetly at his face. “Do you
know that you always do that?”
“Do what?” His stare just as intense.
“That.”
The brain stuck in overdrive, his loins
doing most if not all of his thinking for the moment, the goo in Christian’s
head could not decipher anything beyond Sara thinking he was playing games with
her. This was a real date in all respects. She might