Page 27 of Priestly Sins

Home to shower and enjoy a brief moment or two, if only in my mind, of Sirona Dugas’ ass and her lips. This morning, I fist my cock and picture her sucking me in deep, grazing the back of her throat with my cock, feeling that soft, velvety flesh on my tip. I come embarrassingly quickly, but the fantasy was too good.

“Well, you’re in a good mood this morning.” Evelyn looks sheepish, but rested from her vacation last week. “I’m sorry, Father. That was inappropriate.”

“Good morning. I’m just glad you’re back. How were the Smoky Mountains?”

“Beautiful. And much cooler than here. This humidity!” She throws her wrist toward the windows. “It could choke a fish.”

“That it could! How’s Tom?”

“He enjoyed vacation. Happy to be home, though.”

“That’s a good life. I have to leave a little early today. Picking up my car after needing a couple of new tires. Just wanted you to have a heads-up.”

“Thanks, Father.”

As the day wears on, my thoughts creep back toBag of Bones.This is one reason I don’t read very much. When I do, I get sucked in too easily.

When I first got assigned to the New Orleans diocese, I read those vampire books by Anne Rice. I was looking in doorways and dark alleys for weeks until I remembered there’s no such thing as vampires and then reminded myself that I am the actual villain. But something about her writing and King’s—the world creation—makes a home inside me. It’s a gift. At times, though, it’s a curse to the reader who must see what’s next while never wanting to really know it.

So, before picking up my car, a day later than I promised, I open my reading app and steal an hour or two away in Maine, pretending I can feel the salty air and the crisp night air.

“Father.”

“Hey, Leroy. Appreciate you taking care of my car.”

“Sweet ride, Padre. How ya been?

“Can’t complain. You?

“Same. Um...”

“What is it?”

“Well. This is awkward. Did you know you had a bug in it?”

“Bugs? No. Never heard of that in a car. Got a recommendation for me?”

“No. A bug. A tracking device.”

My blood runs ice cold and I school my features. “No clue. What did you find?”

“It was odd. Not well hidden, just out there. Looks pretty new, not real dirty, so couldn’t’ve been there long. I didn’t move it. Want me to show you?”

“Please.”

He rolls my car toward the lift legs and raises it up with the hydraulics. We walk under the front end and he points to the passenger wheel well, where there’s a little black box that looks like a doorbell except for the red flashing light.

“Know anything about those?” I ask.

He looks sheepish but says, “Will you forgive me if I do?”

I laugh. “No forgiveness needed. Knowing stuff isn’t a sin.”

He blushes furiously under his light brown skin. “Right. So, this one is pretty common. Transmits location. Nothing indicates it records sound. It can be disabled by—” He reaches up to grab it, but I put my hand on his forearm to pause him and interrupt.

“Wait. Walk me through it but don’t disable it. Okay?”

He looks confused.