This time when I laugh, I lean my forehead against her shoulder and squeeze her ass, pulling her closer. The sound of her giggles against my ear is sweet and calming.
When I pull away, I clarify my question. “No, what would you do if Pink was yours? What would you do with it?”
“Oh.” Her eyes light up with excitement. “First thing I would do is reinstate the two-drink limit and stick with it.”
“Good.”
“Then I would fire every one of those lousy bouncers and hire a whole new security staff.”
“Excellent.”
She takes a deep breath, gazing off into the distance as she thinks. “And then…I would find people who could teach real courses on sexuality for men and women. Couples could come in to find a new spark together. Assault survivors could have a place to feel safe and empowered. Members could learn how to practice BDSM safely. And I’d abolish the VIP section entirely.”
With excitement, she tightens her arms around my neck.
“It would be more than just a sex club. It would be like…a sex church!”
I laugh again, tugging her even closer. “A sex church?”
“I want people to feel at home there too,” she says, relating my dream to hers. And maybe they’re not really so different.
Except they obviously are.
“Would you be there?” Her voice is soft and gentle as she asks me, and that chasm between us grows.
Because even she knows it’s impossible. Even with this rampage against my father and this mission of ruining my reputation, at some point, I’ll stop. I think that was always the understanding beneath this whole plan. I might rebel now, but eventually, I’ll come back.
“Preacher by day, Dom by night,” she says, tugging my neck toward her. Then as her lips touch mine, I slip my tongue between them, feeling for that comfort only her kisses seem to offer me anymore.
Even if I do feel torn in two. Broken and shattered until I don’t recognize myself. And my only anchor is her.
With our foreheads still pressed together, she whispers,
“Those two things can coexist, Adam. We can be both.”
Then her hands slide from around my neck and slowly down my chest and stomach. Then over the stiff erection in my pants. “This is not a sin,” she whispers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
It doesn’t matter that my mind is arguing with her. She’s wrong. It is a sin. But that’s what we are, sinners.
As she grinds her hand over my cock, I let out a low, growling hum, pressing back against her touch. She doesn’t stop there. Sliding her fingers under the elastic of my ridiculous green joggers, she finds my dick and strokes it like it’s something to worship.
It still feels like a sin, but one I’d gladly burn for.
“Feel me,” she whispers in the dusty darkness of this nearly abandoned church. And we shouldn’t. We really, really shouldn’t. But right now, this overwhelming hunger to be inside her feels more powerful than God himself.
Reaching under her thin cotton dress, I massage her through her panties, and sure enough, the moisture of her arousal seeps right through.
“Always so ready for me, Peaches.”
At the first moan that slips through her lips, I lose my composure. I tear off her panties and throw them on the floor at my feet. Then I grab her under the knees and yank her to the edge of the pulpit, staring down to watch where my thick cock prods her wet heat.
“Watch it with me,” I tell her.
Together we gaze down in awe as I sink inside her. She lets out a small gasp as I fill her completely, latching her arms around my neck again and yanking my lips to hers for a kiss.
“What could be more godly than that?” she whispers through heavy gasps.
As I move out and back in, savoring the sensation of being inside her, my hunger growing with each thrust, I let myself feel what it’s like to fuck her without shame. Even here in my childhood church, on the same pulpit my father once preached from. I imagine God is here, not condemning this but celebrating it.
Without all the rules and doctrines, we are just two bodies finding the most divine and explicit pleasure two people can find together.
She cries out for me, so I hold her tighter, moving faster and harder. The podium rocks against her weight as I fuck the heavenly spot between her legs. Our moans echo through the empty building, and just like last night, I let myself go, indulging in what I truly want.
And what I truly want right now is her, filling her up, hearing her cries of pleasure, and fucking her as many times as I can before this ends.
My hips are pistoning against her now as I grow closer and closer to my climax. She’s hanging on to me for support with an expression of rapture on her face.
I pick up speed, pounding into her relentlessly as she lets out a deep, husky moan, seizing up in my arms as she lets out her cries of pleasure. When I finally feel myself releasing my own climax inside her, it feels like heaven.
And, like she said, what could be more godly than that?
July
The Hero
Thirty-Four
Sage
“H oly shit.” The alarm in Adam’s voice pulls me out of my sleep. My head is against his bare chest, lying in my bed with Roscoe on his lap.
“What?” I mumble sleepily.
“We’re making headlines.”
I feel the bright light of his phone screen on my face, so I peel my eyes open and stare at a news article, an old photo of Truett and Adam together, front and center.
“What does it say?”
He pulls it away from my face as he reads.
“Prominent Austin-based preacher, Truett Goode, faces scrutiny from followers due to his oldest son’s risqué behavior on the amateur porn app, FanVids.
The famous preacher and author has lost more than twenty thousand social media followers and is being publicly criticized for his silence on the matter. Loyal followers are still awaiting a statement from the preacher and his family. No word yet from thirty-seven-year-old son, Adam Goode. The longer Truett Goode withholds his public condemnation of his son’s actions, the more he risks losing.
“The Goode family patriarch is worth more than forty million dollars and has a seven-figure publishing deal with Good Shepherd Press on the line.”
When he stops reading, I sit up and stare at him with confusion. “They didn’t even mention me.”
He smiles and kisses my head. “Then they’re definitely missing the best part. But Peaches, this is huge. Truett is losing status as we speak. All while he sits on the deed for a sex club.
He has to be sweating.”
This piques my interest. “Brett can’t possibly pay him back the loan he took out. What do you think your dad will do with that deed?”
My mind is turning with ideas and it feels like there’s an opportunity there. If I were to make the same bargain with Truett that I did at the gala two months ago, would he take it this time?
“I don’t know,” Adam says with a dark smile creeping across his face. He looks so proud of himself. And I sort of love that.
So I touch his arm. “This is good news. It means it’s working.”
He’s staring down at the article as he nods. “Yeah, it is.”
Something about this bothers me, though, because if we’ve accomplished what we set out to do, does that mean we’re done? What more could we do? We set out to do this for three months, and it’s already been two. Even if we aren’t fake dating anymore, I still don’t know what we are and if that deadline still exists.