Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,18

freedom?” he questions. His smirk is pure sin, wickedness shines in his eyes, and despite being angry, I can’t stop my thighs from squeezing together.

“You know nothing about me,” I bite out, rising to my feet. I head for the door, but before I can open it, his hand slams against the wood, halting me.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” My voice is strained. Blinking back tears, I try to focus on something other than Kahn’s body against my back.

“Leave.” This time, he’s the one who sounds as if he’s holding back emotion. “Don’t leave.” The words are a whisper that feather along my cheek. His lips are so close to me, they scorch me without touching me.

“You made it clear that—”

“I was assessing your need,” he says. “I’m not here to collect pretty girls to save, but if you’re willing to work with me…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He allows the promise to hang between us.

Can I do this?

“What is it you do?” I still don’t look at him because I don’t trust myself to turn around and not beg him to take me again. I don’t know why this man has such an effect on me, but he’s torturing me without saying a thing.

He laughs then, the sound light, carefree. “I work for God.”

This time, I do turn, and I’m thrown by his beauty. The man is rugged, but he’s also utterly breathtaking. My lungs struggle to pull in air. He’s too close. The scent of leather and danger emanates from him, and I know if he wants to, he can so easily break me.

But then again… I’m broken anyway.

I nod. “Let’s talk.”

It’s only human to fall into the trap of want and need. Your heart craves attention and your body aches for intimacy. A need to be close to another human being. Loneliness is the one thing that can kill without you even realizing it.

Closing my eyes, I bow my head and clasp the rosary between my hands.

A picture of innocence.

The sanctity that should exist in this place doesn’t anymore. I’ve found my way out, agreed to the terms set out for me. Kahn made his promises, now he has to keep them.

There is nothing holy about this place.

Not anymore.

I hear whispers along the corridors. I’m not alone. Never alone. I feel eyes on me. I don’t turn to Dominic. Instead, I focus on my prayers. The lies I told to get myself in here are now the truths that will free me. I promised to be a good girl, I promised to uphold the vows and my prayers. But I broke those a long time ago.

Father Dominic kneels beside me, his eyes burning into me. “Fucking the newbies isn’t a good idea, Maeve.” His voice is cold, detached, nothing like the man who always enjoyed my body and took pleasure in it.

“What do you know?”

“I was merely ambling by when I heard your cries of pleasure,” he tells me. “I’ve heard them many times before. Recognition struck, and I waited for you to leave his room before I came here to find you.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me.” His response has me turning my head, prayers forgotten. “I know things about him, things that would make you change your mind about spreading your legs for him.”

“Fuck you.”

Dominic chuckles. “You already did that. I wish I could’ve watched you take his dick. Your cunt is always so beautifully tight. Did he stretch you like I do?”

My grip on the beads tightens, my knuckles turning white while the palm of my hand stings from the bite of pain.

“Did you say your prayers like a good little nun while he rammed his dick inside you?”

“You’re vile.” I study my hands, not wanting to look at him.

“You didn’t say that while you were screaming for God all those times that I made you come. Perhaps you’d like us both to fill you up, just like the whore you are.” He leans in, before whispering, “Does your cunt get wet when you think about us gaping your tight holes?”

The moment he finishes his question, I hear the click of a gun echo around the stillness of the church. I don’t move. I can’t. Fear holds me still. The barrel of black steel comes into view then, pointed at Dominic’s head.

“I don’t take kindly to assholes who enjoy hurting women,” Kahn’s voice is ice, sending a trickle of anxiety down my spine. “Now, get the fuck up, and look