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I did, instantly, right as the bouncer arrived.
I braced for the impact of the big man, but again, Lyric put herself between us. “It’s okay, Terry. He’s with me.”
Terry glanced at the guy howling about his wrist, then at me, and then at Lyric. “You sure?”
She nodded.
He pointed at me. “Don’t come in here if you can’t handle watching her dance, you hear me? Our patrons aren’t here to put up with your jealousy.”
His warning look at Lyric was slightly less pissed off. “You know the rules. Keep your boyfriends out of here if they can’t handle it.”
She glared right back at him, her voice full of sass. “If I had a boyfriend, I would. But this here is your friendly—or not-so-friendly tonight, apparently—neighborhood priest.”
Terry blinked in surprise then cocked his head at me. “No shit?”
I didn’t answer, but I could understand his confusion. There was nothing about my appearance tonight that would have given any indication I was a member of the clergy. No priest collar. No robes. Just a pair of my ripped and stained jeans that I wore when I was making a sculpture, a black hoodie, and a pair of boots. If he’d had X-ray vision, he might have seen the silver cross on a chain hanging around my neck, but to the outside world and to anyone who didn’t know better, I was just some random asshole, throwing his weight around.
Lyric’s fingernails imbedding themselves deep in my arm caught my attention. “Come,” she hissed beneath her breath. Then louder, she called to a woman watching on with a frown. “I’m taking my break. Which room is free?”
I recognized the woman as the owner of the club. She was none too happy with me either, but she pointed at a door on the back wall of the club. “Take room one.”
Lyric marched me in that direction, shoving me inside before slamming the door shut behind her. As soon as the lock clicked, she whirled on me. “What the fuck, Zeph!” she shouted. “You can’t come to my place of work and act like some jealous douche canoe! We have rules about that which I didn’t think I had to explain to you because, news flash, you’re supposed to be celibate. Even if you’re on some ‘rebel against the priesthood’ power trip, a little kissing and mutual masturbation does not make for a relationship!”
She was fired up, eyes blazing, tits heaving as she glared at me.
Everything I came here to say flew right out of my head.
I dropped to my knees in front of her and pressed my lips to her belly. I slid my hands up her naked thighs and over the curve of her hips, digging in there and holding her still.
I licked a path across her skin, down around the elastic of her panties while my hands kept traveling north to cup her breasts. She gasped, but it stopped her yelling at me.
Her nipples hardened beneath my fingertips and desire for her raged through me. My dick hardened beneath my jeans, begging for attention. I squeezed her nipples, loving the way she sank back against the wall, the fight going out of her.
Her skin was so warm and soft, and I toyed with the edges of her panties with my tongue, until she made little whimpering noises of need.
I looked up at her and nearly came on the spot. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted any woman. She was worth it. Worth breaking every vow. Every promise. I’d been a fool to think I could walk away.
I lifted her thigh over my shoulder and pushed her panties to the side.
Her moan of pleasure when I licked her center had my balls tightening with need. Her pussy sparkled with her arousal, slick and just begging for my mouth. She grabbed my hair when I put my mouth on her again, tonguing her clit and up inside her until she ground against my face shamelessly.
“Zeph,” she moaned. “Oh, fuck.”
I needed more of those noises. Each one drove me crazy, higher and higher until I wanted to plow inside her and make her scream. I drove two fingers up into her, giving her something to ride, and she cried out in ecstasy.
“I’m going to come.”
A fresh wave of her juices covered my tongue, and I lapped it up, fucking her with my fingers harder and faster until her body begged for more. I gave her three, and she screamed my name while the beat of the club outside vibrated through the door.
She was sugar sweet, wet and dripping down my fingers. She coated my mouth and chin, and I drove to my feet, kissing her roughly, making her taste herself.
I waited for her to cringe away.
Annie would have.
But Lyric pulled me tighter, frantically grabbing at my hoodie, my shirt, my pants. She got her fingers beneath my T-shirt, and I hissed at the feel of her nails scratching over my abs. She ground her core against my erection, both of us frantic for more.
Like it had a mind of its own, my hand snuck up around her throat.
