Page 102 of Priest

“This,” he murmurs, looking up at me with hooded eyes, “is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I snort despite myself. “I didn’t know you were into beached whales.”

His head snaps up. His expression turns fierce.

“Don’t,” he growls, climbing back up toward me. “You look nothin’ like that. You glow. You’re radiant. You look like a goddess, and I’m so turned on I can barely think straight.”

My breath leaves me as his mouth finds mine again, the kiss deep and consuming, stealing what little composure I have left. His hands explore with care, with hunger, with restraint that feels intentional rather than hesitant.

When he finally leans back, his voice is low and teasing. “I’d like dessert,” he says softly. “If that’s okay with you.”

I can barely think. I nod, breathless.

He arches a brow. “Words, Bluebell.”

I inhale, steady myself, then let it out on a moan. “Yes. Please.”

That’s all it takes.

That was all he needed to hear, the moment the words left my lips he dove into the glistening apex of my thighs. Devouring me. Losing himself in me like it was the last thing he was ever going to do.

The world narrowed. Sensation built. I clung to him, lost in the way he made me feel seen, wanted, cherished — until there was nothing left but his name on my lips and warmth spreading through me, multiple times.

After leaving me breathless and spent, he tucked a blanket around me, kissing my forehead with a gentleness that undid me all over again.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says softly. “After I see Deacon. I’ll make you dinner again.”

I catch his hand before he can stand. “You’re just… leaving?”

He leans down, kisses me slowly, lingering, letting me taste myself on his lips, leaving me breathless.

“Anything I come here to do is strictly for you Bluebell,” he murmurs, “you and only you. Rest now. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good shift at work. Don't work too hard, take breaks for you and the baby. ”

He lets himself out.

I lie there listening to the quiet settle back into the house, the weight of the blanket, the steady presence of my body, the small, insistent reminder of life beneath my skin.

He didn’t stay because he was afraid to leave.

And he didn’t leave because he was afraid to stay.

That feels… right.

I close my eyes, one hand resting over my belly, and let myself hold that truth without questioning it.

33

Ghost

The clubhouse always went out of rhythm when something major happened.

The sound didn’t rise or drop in any obvious way. It shifted sideways. Conversations bent in strange directions, laughter hit dead ends, and people checked their phones too often while pretending they were doing anything else. Everyone waited for the next piece of news, even the ones acting like they weren’t waiting at all.

Tonight, Sadie’s labor had knocked the room off-center.

Ghost lingered near the outskirts with a sweating glass in his hand, the ice already melting down to nothing. He watched beyond expressions, tracking the invisible threads between reactions whenever Sadie’s name came up. Who leaned in. Who went quiet. Who kept talking because they wanted to look untouched by it.

Ledger and Lena had taken her to the hospital.