Preacher's Daughter - Flora Ferrari Page 0,5

to listen to it all day as I just stare into that brooding look.

I feel my head nodding, my mouth’s gaping now and I’m pressing my legs together like I need to pee, but it’s only to keep myself standing upright.

That urge to get on all fours is back again, Mr. Fantasy has just walked out of my dreams and onto my front porch.

“I’m Noah,” he says finally, thrusting out a huge hand that my fingers only manage to wrap around a couple of his before they cover all of mine.

“Faith,” I squeak, feeling giddy now, wishing I’d eaten.

Wondering how many of these fingers I could-

“I wasn’t sure what time you’d get here,” I say nervously, trying to make small talk as I refuse to let go of his hand.

“Get here,” he parrots like he’s suddenly in a trance of his own.

“To fix the air conditioning,” I reply, noting his unusual suitcase looking toolbox with my eyes before I dive back into his.

Deep, endless eyes. So deep I can’t even swim there anymore. I have to just drown in them.

“Air conditioning,” he drones, looking confused but nodding a little before his brow cocks in recognition, a sly grin playing on his lips. Two rows of perfect, brilliant white teeth reveal a warm and intoxicating smile that matches every other part of the man.

He’s freaking perfect.

Tugging at his fingers, I practically pull him into the house. “It’s upstairs. In my room,” I tell him, noting his low groan of approval that’s nearly masked by the sound of his heavy boots on the wooden floor.

“Bedroom,” he says in that same monotone like he’s stuck for words or something.

Maybe he’s not too bright, or maybe just a man of few words. Who cares? Look at the man!

Gnawing my lip I eventually let go of him and turn to head up the stairs. His dense footfalls behind me, plus that feeling from last night all tingle up my spine with every step I take.

He’s about four steps behind me, taking his time and I feel those eyes on me, watching what I know is my ass moving around inside my sweats.

Again, I’d normally feel like dying from embarrassment, but with Noah; with that feeling last night, I feel like I could do anything as long as it scratches this itch I’ve got deep inside me.

“It’s just through here,” I announce, turning and bumping into him at the top of the stairs, gasping as both my hands press against his rock hard body.

“Are you alone?” he asks me sternly, looking down at me. I notice he didn’t bring his tools either.

Instead of being scared, I’m thrilled, proudly telling him I am alone.

“All by myself,” I whisper hoarsely, feeling like my hands are stuck just like when he took mine into his a moment ago.

“Good,” he murmurs, and my hands slide down as I turn away, I have to before I squeal out loud and beg him to do something, anything to me.

I think of my Dad again, about the whole Preacher’s Daughter stigma. But what Noah doesn’t know doesn’t need to matter, right?

The moment I do turn around, I’m looking at both the air unit and the open window which houses it, plus the huge Cypress tree in our yard.

The same tree that was in Noah’s hair.

I freeze on the spot, a familiar shudder gripping my whole body as I somehow just know it was him watching me last night.

That it was he who was and still is giving me this magical feeling inside.

I’m almost too scared to turn around now, now that I know his secret.

Now that I know he’s the man who saw me naked, saw me struggling not to play with myself.

Saw me laying naked on my bed all night, doing who knows what.

I only have one question to ask: how long was he watching? But Noah seems determined to maintain his act as the repairman, and who am I to try and stop him.

“Uh, did you try plugging it in?” he asks, stepping past me and bending down. The fine view of his strong back tapering down to his taught behind is enough to make me gasp again.

I feel dizzy, suddenly, like I need to sit down. I stumble back, letting myself catch the edge of my bed.

“Umm… yeah I tried plugging it in. The fan was on last night so I so-,” I blush.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, almost chuckling to himself.

And we both freeze.

The silence between us so great