Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,29

had access to the internet.

I refilled the water bowl and left the rest of the food. Then I took the long way back to the dorm, hoping to see some of the bats.

My meandering stroll followed the outer perimeter, keeping to the wall and away from people. Not that there were crowds. It was too cold and too late at night. I probably only had a few minutes before the nine o’clock check-in.

While on this side of the property, I wanted to sneak a closer peek at the gate. The few times I’d passed through it, I’d been escorted by Father Magnus.

I turned the corner, bringing the exit into view and…

Speak of the devil.

A lone figure cut a formidable silhouette against the backdrop of the streetlights. He leaned against the gate, long legs crossed at the ankles, muscled arms at his sides, and his eyes…

They waited for me, tracking my movements, hunting me in the darkness. The instinct to run gripped my bones. But what if he chased me? What if I wanted that?

Under the weight of his steady gaze, I felt exposed, stripped down to my deepest vulnerabilities. He’d watched me pee all over the floor, and I wasn’t ready to accept that. The embarrassment was too fresh and raw.

I needed the night to rebuild my defenses against him. After a well-rested sleep, I would come back stronger, more confident, prepared to stand up for myself.

So I veered away, heading in the opposite direction. Without glancing back, I knew his gaze stayed with me to the building. I felt it blazing along my back.

His undivided attention should’ve scared the crap out of me, but instead, I found comfort in it. I wanted it, and that bothered me most of all.

CHAPTER 12

MAGNUS

The following day, I sat behind my desk and stared at Tinsley Constantine with new eyes.

She stood with her hands at her sides, shoulders back, and expression brimming with self-possession. Not a trace of the ashamed, teary-eyed girl I’d left in this room yesterday. Overnight, she’d regained her strength of will. With a few differences.

Her uniform met the dress code. She’d arrived on time for Mass this morning and sat through the service with little interruption. But I was under no illusion about her sudden compliance. I suspected, after a night of brooding anger and humiliation, she was simply picking her battles.

Or maybe I was the only one who spent the evening in turmoil.

I’d never ordered a student to remove her undergarments. Never even considered it. At the time, I’d told myself it served a practical purpose, knowing full well she would lose the fight with her bladder. I’d counted on it.

But when the tiny scrap of white cotton had slid down her legs, my entire body reacted. My thoughts turned inside out, and God help me, I hungered like I’d never hungered before. I ached for her humiliation so ravenously that when it finally arrived, it took all the concentrated restraint in the world not to fall upon her like a mindless, raging beast.

I had a choice. I could’ve fucked her. Right here in my classroom, I could’ve broken my vow and fucked her with piss on her legs, virgin blood on my dick, and her heavenly tears soaking the hand I would’ve held so tightly to her mouth.

She wouldn’t have survived it.

A demanding whisper in the silence of my heart argued she was stronger than I knew, stronger than anyone realized. That whisper had lured me back to the campus later last night to discover just how strong she was and how loudly she could scream.

Then I saw her. Walking along the wall just before nine, she took my breath away. Her beauty was so otherworldly, so unrivaled and angelic, I wanted to protect her, not hurt her. I couldn’t stomach the thought of poisoning her with my cancer and stripping her soul from her body. I wouldn’t do it.

I made a choice.

I packed away every depraved, immoral thought into a deep compartment labeled, Never open. Then I spent the rest of the night praying the rosary and celebrating my abstinence with a few too many whiskeys.

Nine years ago, I’d successfully buried my sickness in the same way. Since then, I hadn’t misstepped. I hadn’t come apart at the seams. I never caved. My self-control was inviolable.

Tinsley wasn’t in danger around me. Not yesterday. Not now. Not ever. She wasn’t a temptation.

And so this morning, as I stared at her with new eyes, it had less to