Page 132 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

His smile widens to something breathtaking and my heart stops beating. He has no idea how handsome he is, even without that little scar over his lip.

He reaches up and gently runs his knuckles over my scarf. “This is new.” When I blush, he grips the silk ties and pulls my lips to his, and mumbles deeply against them, “You have been busy enjoying the bank account, no?”

“Whatever do you mean, Padre?” I breathe out. “I’ve been busy all day toiling in the archives.”

His lips curve against mine, and his hand drops from my head to squeeze my thigh. “This is also new.” He slides his flat palm up my waist and around to my halterneck’s bare back. “This is also new.” He buries his nose in my neck, inhales, then releases a low rumbling, “Mm. This perfume is the same—but new.”

“I bought the orphans a few things, too. Are you mad?”

“Of course I’m not mad.” He pulls back suddenly, glowering. “I’m very happy.”

I hold back a laugh. He realizes his mistake, shakes his head, and scrubs his palm down his face.

“Okay, piccola. I get it.” He raises his palms in surrender. “I promise not to look angry.”

“I like your angry face,” I purr.

Brown eyes snap to me and smolder with lust. We stare at each other like that for a long, long moment. Each second that passes makes me wetter, needier, and aching for him to bend me over the pew and fuck me right there. But I refuse to make the first move.

This is a little game he likes to play with me—testing whether I can wait.

Eventually, he stands, offers his hand to me, and waits until I take it. Then he collects the basket and says, “Before I tell the news, I have a surprise for you.”

“News?”

“We had visitors from the Vatican today.”

I knew it.

“Oh.”

“Come.” He tugs me after him as he walks beside the pew, but instead of heading down the aisle to the oratory, he guides me up the sanctuary steps and across the chancel.

“Where are—” I cut myself off when he lets go of my hand to draw back a tapestry from the wall.

It leads to the old belfry.

“Quickly,” he mumbles, casting a wary look over my shoulder. “Before anyone sees.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” I wave him down. “I locked the front door.”

His brows wing up, but I don’t wait to see them fall into a scowl. He definitely needs a break, now more than ever. I head through the tiny door and into the cramped spiral staircase.

It smells old and musty and a little like mildew. I’ve not been here in years. Not since that old priest I teased. Frowning, I almost turn back and leave, but Cisco shuts the door firmly.

The light dims.

Cisco slides his hand around my nape and looks into my eyes. “It was a long time ago,” he says, knowing exactly why I’m hesitant to be here. “It’s just me now, piccola.”

“I love you.”

His eyes crinkle. “I love you too.” He kisses my forehead, spins me to face the stairs, and then swats my rear end. “Muoviti. Move quickly, before the sun goes and you ruin the surprise.”

Cisco

I watch Mercy’s curvaceous ass sway as she climbs the stairs in high-heeled shoes. My trousers grow tighter at the groin by the second. I tug the white, stiff cotton band around my throat for air, but it’s no use.

From the moment she walked into the church, my body reacted with heat and longing so deep that it hurt. When she sat to kiss me on the cheek, and her breasts almost spilled from her new top, I almost lost my mind.