Hot Under His Collar - Andie J. Christopher Page 0,56

back of her sweaty neck. She could feel that he was trying to tell her it was okay, but it wasn’t.

It was fairly clear in her mind that it would never be okay again. She would never be able to get the awed look on his face out of her mind. She’d never felt sexier, more powerful, less tethered to the expectations of her family. All her life, she’d been a handmaiden to those expectations. But now, she wasn’t sure that she could do that anymore.

His grip tightened, and so she didn’t move for long moments. The cool mahogany against her skin a reminder that she wasn’t in some celestial cocoon out of space and time, that she’d just jilled off in front of a frocked priest in a bar that wasn’t even locked.

And she didn’t feel guilty at all.

However, she could feel the remorse coming off Patrick in waves. She was sure that he regretted it. How could he not? In his mind, he’d already sinned. In hers, she’d twisted this so that this would somehow even the score.

But the way he’d looked at her—he’d loved this just as much as she had. This would stain his psyche as much as it would hers.

This was a problem.

That was the thought that made her lift her head. This time, he didn’t meet her gaze. He looked down at her wrinkled skirt and sighed.

“Are you okay?” That he asked that, even when it was clear that he was not, made her heart ache for him. And somehow that was worse than the fact that she still wanted him to fuck her. What they’d just done had done nothing to dim her lust. No, she wanted him inside her even more. The way he’d pulled on all the right strings and pushed all the right buttons without even touching her told her that anything else they did would maybe create a tear in the universe.

The idea made her feel more than a little destructive. And the only thing that kept her from pushing things farther, from asking him to touch her more and condemn himself, was the sweat on his upper lip.

The fact that he was trying so hard not to want her, that there was something about this life he had that made him stop, made her stop.

She straightened out her clothes and nodded, finally answering his question. “I’m okay. Are you?”

He nodded but didn’t speak.

“I’m going to go.” She wanted him to stop her.

But he didn’t. “That’s probably—” He didn’t finish his thought. Whatever he was going to say would definitely hurt her and it might hurt him. But she wasn’t going to stick around to ask, because every time they talked, the talking led to them both doing something that they knew they shouldn’t.

The problem was that doing it made her feel less like a bad person—instead she felt free.

But her freedom came at a price—and it was the fact that he thought that some higher power was actually keeping tabs on what people did with their genitals and meting out punishment based on how much fun they were having.

This thing with Patrick was making her realize how deep that patriarchal bullshit had seeped into her veins. Breaking all the rules—fooling around with a priest instead of the man who wanted to date her and was free to do so—was setting her free. It was making her brave.

But it was not doing the same thing for the man in front of her. She was ruining him, and this had to stop.

“Let’s not be alone anymore.” That was the only way this was going to stop. If they weren’t alone, they couldn’t give in to this.

He nodded.

“I’m going to go.”

He nodded again, and she stopped waiting for him to say something. Still, she walked to the door slowly, in fading hope that he would stop her.

She opened the door and looked back at him. There was nothing left to say. Her body was filled with light, and she’d never felt closer to who she imagined herself to be when no one was watching. But he was devastated, and she wasn’t sure that he would go seeking absolution from his God. She wanted to give it to him, hoped he accepted it, and knew that he probably wouldn’t. Still, she said the words.

“Go forth and sin no more, Father.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AFTER THE SCENE IN the bar, Sasha called him a few times. To Patrick’s relief, she’d returned to her normal businesslike self.