Sinner (Priest, #2)

by Sierra Simone

I say si...

“I want to see you while you eat. I want to know the color of your bra. I want to see the shape of your little nipples as they pucker up, all co...

She swallows again, and this time it has nothing ...

“Je...

she whispers, and I can’t tell if it’s a swear or if it’s a prayer. It doesn’t really matter either way; she’s tugging her shirt off as fast as she can, tossing it behind her. I rumble in approval, leaning forward to get a better view. She’s wearing a pale lavender bra, a sweet color against her warm brown skin, and I can see the dark circles of her nipples under the thin fabric. I can see them hardening, pulling up tight. I can also see the faint shadows of her ribs laddering down her sides and a faded mandala-like doodle spiraling out from her hip. A college student who sometimes forgets to eat. A college student bored in bed while she studies and draws idly on her own skin. I...

“Perf...

I rasp, and I see how my praise affects her. Good. I plan on praising her lot...

“Now finish eating while I lo...

“I—w...

“Finish eating. I know you went to the shelter after your classes today, and I’m going to guess that you haven’t put anything in your stomach since...

The corner of her mouth...

“Ma...

“And how often is that the case? That you’re doing so much between school and the shelter...

One of her hands comes up to rub at her shoulder a...

“Of...

she a...

“That ends to...

I say st...

“...

There’s a moment when I think it’s coming, the inevitable asshole, the moment she tells me to stop. She doesn’t need some white guy playing Daddy with her; she definitely doesn’t need someone treating her like she’s not capable of caring for herself. But Carolyn Bell was a social worker until her cancer diagnosis, one Bell brother was a priest, another Bell brother burns a candle at both ends like his wick will never run out. I’ve seen what happens to busy people, and I know it’s much, much easier to justify losing a night’s worth of sleep for the cause than it is to justify taking ten minutes to make a sandwich. The most selfless people, the most driven people, they need permission to take care of themselves; they need someone who will put them first because they won’t do it for themselves. The word asshole never leaves her lips. Her eyes flash with irritation, then they shimmer into some internal struggle that leaves her lower lip trapped between her teeth and her hand hovering over her fork. After a short silence, she picks up the fork and takes a bite. And another. And another, until her plate is clear. I watch her the entire time, stretching out in my chair and thrilling in...