Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,86
for five more months, and I would use those months to sort out her future.
After we came down from our groaning, explosive orgasms, I gathered her in my arms with my back against the headboard.
“Best night’s sleep ever.” She straddled my lap, her face nuzzling my neck and the light tickle of her lips softly kissing.
“Agreed.”
“And morning sex. Another first for you?”
“Yes.”
“What a sad life you’ve led, Mr. Billionaire Bachelor of New York.”
“I’m making up for it with you, Your Highness.” I slid a hand along her beautiful backside and teased the tight ring of muscle between her cheeks.
She clenched, whimpered.
“I’m going to violate this hole before we leave the mountains.” I dragged her leg farther around my hip, opening her for my touch.
“You’ll have to work me up to that.”
“I will. That’s a promise.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.” Her eyes twinkled.
“What do you want to do?”
“You.”
“That’s a given. What else?”
“Let’s go on a hike.”
We showered, ate breakfast, and made out on the couch like it was our first time. Then we laughed at ourselves, pulled on our boots and coats, and I gave her a tour of the property.
The snow-covered mountain terrain sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. With her gloved hand clasped in mine, I led her along the main trail to my favorite spot.
When we arrived, she stood on the alpine bluff overlooking the icy river below. Cloaked in evergreens and crowned in white, the mountain peaks rose like tributes to the blue-slate sky. With wildlife galore and the panoramic vista stretching from north to south, there was no better view in the world.
Except the one I had.
The chilly air pinkened her cheeks and frosted her breath. Her white knitted hat failed to contain the wild tangle of hair around her shoulders and arms. She was all bundled up in puffy outerwear and heavy snow boots with a smile so wide she out-glowed the sun.
“What?” She touched her chin to her shoulder and bit down on her grin.
“You’re painfully beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She pulled in a slow, deep breath as if inhaling my words. Her gaze turned back to the view, and her demeanor shifted, growing sober. “We need to talk.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” She picked at a string on her gloves, thinking, possibly stalling. “You and me, what we’re doing, how does it affect your relationship with God?”
“That relationship is in the shitter at the moment.”
“Can you fix it?” She took a breath. “Do you want to fix it?”
“Yes. Maybe. I need to do some serious introspection.” I touched a gloved finger to her temple and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Understand me, Tinsley. You’re not the cause of this. I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with God my entire life. I believe. Then I lose my way. Then I believe again. Then I question everything. Back and forth, it’s a vicious cycle. My faith has never been easy, and it never will be. Relationships with me aren’t easy.”
“You’ve been friends with Crisanto for a long time.”
“He’s the only one. When I moved to Sion Academy, I chose to live alone rather than in the main rectory with Crisanto. I didn’t want to destroy our friendship.”
“What about your parents? Why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?”
“I destroyed that relationship when I was in my twenties. We fought about religion. They wanted me to go to church. I had other priorities. It was a constant battle that strained every interaction.”
“Even after you became a priest?”
“Especially after. They didn’t want anything to do with me until I became a priest. Fuck that. I didn’t choose this life for them.”
“Why did you? Become a priest?”
“The short answer…absolution.”
“Absolution from what?”
“Hurting people. Hurting women.” The cold air felt suddenly colder, sinking into my bones. “I did something, and I need you to…”
Not run.
If she ran, I would chase her.
I paced to a fallen tree and brushed the snow off a section to sit on. Then I lifted her, surprising a yelp out of her. With her legs wrapped around me, I straddled the huge trunk. She sat before me, face to face, her thighs draped over mine and arms resting on my shoulders.
Much better.
“I know you’re about to tell me your experiences with other women.” Her gaze searched mine. “I can see the dread in your eyes.”
I nodded, my pulse hammering.
“I don’t want to hear it.” She laughed without humor. “I don’t even want to think about it. But first I need to know, before you tell me anything… Have you ever been