even think he could get it up. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached behind her neck for the row of tiny buttons that marched in a seductive line down the center of her back. There were twenty-five of the round pearl teases. He knew because he’d counted them. Twice. The top button of the collar of her dress proved obstinate.
“No, I guess we don’t.” The frown on her face was evidence that she knew there was a flaw in that reasoning, but she got distracted by his fumbling and reached up, her fingers tangling with his. “What are you doing?”
“Not putting much shine on my skills as a lover, that’s for sure.”
“You shine there?”
There was no blaming her for the shock in her voice. Preachers who lectured weekly on morality were expected to live as shining examples of what they preached. Which meant any self-respecting one probably shouldn’t have any skill whatsoever between the sheets. Lucky for Evie he didn’t have trouble with a little double-sided living and had only recently become a practicing minister. Before he’d found the advantages that religion could provide him, he’d spent a long time studying up on how to please the ladies. “I’m hoping to, for you.”
She blinked and that invisible tension that always held her slipped a bit more, putting a feminine softness in her posture that he recognized. Another invitation.
“That’s very sweet.”
Sweet . He smiled carefully. No one called him sweet. Not even the little old ladies of his — of the — congregation. He tucked his fingertip into the warm nape of her neck as he pondered the slip. He’d been making slips like that more often of late. That could be deadly. This role was only temporary, and when the time came for him to move on, the town would get a dedicated preacher. One who could actually do them good rather than just use charm to put a fine haze on things the way he’d used liquor to haze Evie’s entry into marriage.
“Brad?”
The trust with which Evie looked at him was the kind a woman gave her husband. The kind that came from knowing your future was completely tied to someone else, and there was only one way to get through and that was together. He didn’t deserve it. If he was any kind of decent human being, he would let her go untouched. Tuck her under those covers, and walk away. Go sleep in the other bedroom. Leave her to her dreams and illusions. If he was any kind of decent. That was a mighty big if. “I’m right here, princess.”
She smiled, and he had the sudden urge to give decent a try.
Whatever the demon gives you boy, I’ll be taking it. You can kill me and that fact won’t change. God has declared this truth. You were born of sin, live in sin, and will die in sin.
Shit . At least the latter part of his father’s dour prophecies had come true. He was pretty much steeped in sin and getting deeper with every slip of a dainty button through a narrow hole. He was about as far away from the notion of decent as his father’s grave was from Cattle Crossing, and since he’d sworn to stop listening to the bastard the night his mother had died, he’d do better to focus on the here and now. And here and now was Evie, lying before him, watching him with big blue eyes that held the conviction that he was sweet. Hard to believe, but in her mind, he wasn’t a shameful taint on a pristine reputation. He wasn’t the most feared outlaw in the state. He wasn’t anything but the stodgy reverend she’d married.
Not fair involving an innocent, God. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt.
He’d have to take steps to protect her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m unbuttoning your top.”
“Why?”
To get to what’s underneath. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable out of this dress.”
Alcohol might have slowed her thought processes, but it hadn’t halted them.
“You’re going to make me your wife.”
“You already are my wife. Anything that happens after this just puts a seal on the
“No, I guess we don’t.” The frown on her face was evidence that she knew there was a flaw in that reasoning, but she got distracted by his fumbling and reached up, her fingers tangling with his. “What are you doing?”
“Not putting much shine on my skills as a lover, that’s for sure.”
“You shine there?”
There was no blaming her for the shock in her voice. Preachers who lectured weekly on morality were expected to live as shining examples of what they preached. Which meant any self-respecting one probably shouldn’t have any skill whatsoever between the sheets. Lucky for Evie he didn’t have trouble with a little double-sided living and had only recently become a practicing minister. Before he’d found the advantages that religion could provide him, he’d spent a long time studying up on how to please the ladies. “I’m hoping to, for you.”
She blinked and that invisible tension that always held her slipped a bit more, putting a feminine softness in her posture that he recognized. Another invitation.
“That’s very sweet.”
Sweet . He smiled carefully. No one called him sweet. Not even the little old ladies of his — of the — congregation. He tucked his fingertip into the warm nape of her neck as he pondered the slip. He’d been making slips like that more often of late. That could be deadly. This role was only temporary, and when the time came for him to move on, the town would get a dedicated preacher. One who could actually do them good rather than just use charm to put a fine haze on things the way he’d used liquor to haze Evie’s entry into marriage.
“Brad?”
The trust with which Evie looked at him was the kind a woman gave her husband. The kind that came from knowing your future was completely tied to someone else, and there was only one way to get through and that was together. He didn’t deserve it. If he was any kind of decent human being, he would let her go untouched. Tuck her under those covers, and walk away. Go sleep in the other bedroom. Leave her to her dreams and illusions. If he was any kind of decent. That was a mighty big if. “I’m right here, princess.”
She smiled, and he had the sudden urge to give decent a try.
Whatever the demon gives you boy, I’ll be taking it. You can kill me and that fact won’t change. God has declared this truth. You were born of sin, live in sin, and will die in sin.
Shit . At least the latter part of his father’s dour prophecies had come true. He was pretty much steeped in sin and getting deeper with every slip of a dainty button through a narrow hole. He was about as far away from the notion of decent as his father’s grave was from Cattle Crossing, and since he’d sworn to stop listening to the bastard the night his mother had died, he’d do better to focus on the here and now. And here and now was Evie, lying before him, watching him with big blue eyes that held the conviction that he was sweet. Hard to believe, but in her mind, he wasn’t a shameful taint on a pristine reputation. He wasn’t the most feared outlaw in the state. He wasn’t anything but the stodgy reverend she’d married.
Not fair involving an innocent, God. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt.
He’d have to take steps to protect her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m unbuttoning your top.”
“Why?”
To get to what’s underneath. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable out of this dress.”
Alcohol might have slowed her thought processes, but it hadn’t halted them.
“You’re going to make me your wife.”
“You already are my wife. Anything that happens after this just puts a seal on the
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