Free Lust Is the Thorn by Jen McLaughlin Page B

of myself. Nothing in this world would stop me from wanting to watch her do that again. And again. And
again
. As often as she would let me.
    That was the real kicker. I wanted her more than I wanted air, or light, or water. But I’d ensured I would never have her. Never touch her. Never know her like that. It was the nicest thing I’d ever done for someone else.
    And the
hardest.
    “No need to answer.” She pointed at me and bit her lip, right by her piercing. I’d have given anything to press my tongue against that spot. To taste her. “I can see it written on your face. You wish you could go back and do this whole thing over again. But you can’t. What’s done is done. There’s no going back.”
    I understood that more than she’d ever know. There were so many things I wished I could go back and change. The drugs. The sex. The way Mikey had died, and my role in it. The boy I’d been, before I became the man I was now. I would change that boy in two seconds flat, given the chance. I would change me. Make me
better
.
    Maybe it was time to tell her the truth. If that didn’t make her stay away from me, hate me, then
nothing
would.
    “Stop looking so worried.” She tugged her wet shirt down more with her good hand. It did nothing to assuage the need I felt for her. It was a big, gaping, festering wound inside me. “I’m fine. You’re fine. You didn’t break any rules. It’s all good, priest.”
    I swallowed hard, trying my best not to focus on the fact that my body was begging for release, and grabbed a towel. I gently draped it over her, more to cover her than anything else. Her nipples were still hard, and it was killing me. “But that shouldn’t have happened, for more reasons than one.”
    She eyed my clerical collar. “I know the obvious, but what’s the other reason?”
    “Mikey. There’s something you should know—”
    She rolled her eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, he’s dead. He’s no longer here to kick your ass for touching me, and more than likely? He wouldn’t have given a damn, anyway. He accepted the fact that I was a girl, and that boys liked me, a hell of a lot easier than
you
did.”
    Okay, she had a point there. A small one. “But I need to tell you—”
    “No.” She held up her good hand. “Just shut up. Like I told you, I don’t do regrets. You shouldn’t, either. But I respect your desire to hold firm to your beliefs, and the second we walk out of this room, we can pretend this never happened. I’m sure we can both agree not to mention this small event again, and we’re adult enough to make that happen. To forget you ever watched me like that—because that’s
all
that happened. It’s not like we had sex, or any naked body parts touched. You just watched.”
    I swallowed. “You could forget it happened?” I adjusted my pants and rebuttoned them. “That easily?”
    “It’s not as if it’s something that memorable.” She gave me a quick, appraising glance. “It was just me touching myself. I do it in the bath all the time.”
    I did
not
need to know that. “Right,” I said, my voice thick with unanswered need. “Of course you do.”
    She tugged the towel closed, all bright blue eyes, wet brown hair, and piercings. “Are we cool?”
    “Yeah. We’re cool.”
    “Good.” She stepped over the side of the dirty white tub and headed for the door. “I’m going to find my bag, grab some clothes, and get dressed. Thanks for the, uh, bath.”
    Despite her words and her devil-may-care attitude, I sensed she was putting on an act. That what happened between us wasn’t something she could just sweep under the rug. It certainly wasn’t for
me
. “Yeah, I’m going to finish up in here.”
    Her focus drifted down to my still rock-hard erection. “Need any help?”
    “Rose.”
    “Right. Sorry. Inappropriate.” She blushed and cleared her throat. “I’ll go now and leave you to…well, you know. Clean up.”
    The door shut behind her and I sagged against