Page 31

As I enter the sanctuary, my eyes immediately find June. Her big doe eyes are trained up at the crucifix, and I see her lips moving, her hands clasped together as she kneels at a pew. I wince thinking about her already-hurt knees and how they must feel now.

“Sorry that took long,” I say, announcing my presence. “I spoke to Father Callum for a bit.”

Her eyes light up when she looks at me, and I realize what I would do to have her always look at me that way.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I think I needed a minute anyway.”

I slump in the pew next to her as she eases back into the seat. My thigh touches hers, her arm against mine. She’s still so cold, but at least she’s not shaking anymore.

“This might sound odd—” she begins.

I huff a laugh. “June, we just faced down a demon together. I don’t think anything could be odd between us.”

She smirks at me. “Well, while we were in the tunnel, I realized I don’t really know anything about you.”

“Shit.” Chuckling, I sit back. “I’ve been mostly on the road for fifteen years. I think I must’ve forgotten how to make friends.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I stopped having friends after high school. Once we graduated, they all went on to college—left this small, shitty town. While I was stuck here.” She sighs. “So, I think I forgot too.”

“Then,” I start, “maybe we can work on it together.”

She turns to me, placing her hand on my thigh. “I think . . . I think that’d be nice.”

I swallow. It’s been so long since I’ve told anyone about . . . about my parents. But I’ve seen June on what I could only hope was the worst day of her life. I’ve seen her naked, I’ve let her use me just as she’s let me use her. I’ve brushed away her tears, and cleaned her wounds, and shown her the real side of me no one has seen besides my little family of misfits in Miami.

I want to tell her about them. I want to tell her about me , and how they are the reason I am all that I am today.

But . . . I don’t think I can relive that night.

Turning my palm up on my knee, I wait till she entwines her perfect, dainty fingers in mine. It fuels me like a car on empty, like a battery completely depleted.

“My parents and older sister died when I was fourteen. I’ve lived so long blocking out the memory of that night, I can’t conjure the details.”

She gasps and her fingers squeeze mine in an instant. Rubbing the back of her palm with my thumb, a corner of my mouth twitches up.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” I meet June’s eyes again, the dark blue already misty with unshed tears. “I didn’t believe in demons growing up. Ghosts, sure. What kid doesn’t? But demons? They were the obsession for the wholly devout. While we went to church every week, it wasn’t really ingrained in our life like it was yours.” I rub my thumb along the back of her palm again, her soft skin grounding me. “But . . . that changed. A demon . . . a demon killed . . . ” The words lodge in my throat, unwilling to come out as flashes of memory cloud my mind. Blood, my father’s dark brown eyes turned a hideous orange, my mother crying and begging with blood on her hands, my sister’s body bent in ways I struggle to recreate even in my mind.

My jaw is locked, teeth grinding, as if they, too, know the words that threaten to spill will ruin me.

June’s warm palm cups my chin, pulling my face toward her once more, her other hand still squeezing in mine.

“You don’t have to continue. Not if it hurts this much.” She smiles, and something about it breaks my heart. I want her to know, so why can’t I tell her? “Sometimes,” she says, her eyes shifting back and forth between mine. “Sometimes, it’s harder to remember, harder to focus on what happened instead of just knowing something happened.” A knowing, sad smile curves her lips as she releases a shuddery breath. “I’m grateful you told me something happened, and if that’s all you can tell me, that already is more than enough.”

June—June, June, June.

I don’t even know when it happened, but I have undoubtedly, wholly, fallen for this woman. I’ve been obsessed with her from the moment I saw her—and I knew it was lust, but I also knew it was so much more too. I knew love could spark from that obsession, and the more she sees me , the more that love wraps its glorious, delicate claws around my throat and keeps me in a chokehold.

I lean toward her, slowly, my lips desperate to feel her as they’re drawn to her own. The kiss is soft and tender, her plump lips open with mine pressed against them, warming my soul as the breath is pulled from my lungs.

“Thank you,” I hum against her lips, and I feel the smile in her kiss.

Her smile lights my soul brighter than any hellfire.

I’ll tell her, I promise myself, but not tonight.

Tonight, my wicked mind is conjuring other plans as I slowly kiss her. I told her this morning to keep her panties off, and the image of her wet pussy in those sexy little tights as she sucked me down her throat still clings in my mind. I want it. I want her .

“You’ve been such a good girl today, June,” my voice rumbles against her, as she quivers against me. “You deserve a reward.”

She releases a shuddering breath into my mouth, and her body goes taut in my arms.

“A—a reward?”

“Mhm,” I hum, smirking at the goosebumps my voice gives her.

As I trail my lips along her jaw, I feel her lips fall open. But she doesn’t speak right away, she hesitates. “Here?”

My perfect little songbird. Instantly, I know she is asking in fear—and hope. She wants to be taken advantage of in public, and I can sense the thrill of being caught in a church of all places running through her racing mind.

God, I can’t even imagine how wet she must be from the idea alone, my little exhibitionist.

“Yes, here.” I pull away from her, far enough to see her perfect, terrified face. “I want to bend you over these pews and eat your pussy while you scream for our Lord.”

The moment the words register in her mind, the instant her cheeks turn that adorable shade of pink, I’m pulling June over my lap and shoving her forward, bending her over just as I said I would. Her legs are just long enough to bend against the back of the bench in front of us, her glorious big ass in my face.

Nearly falling forward, she slams her hands on the seat of the bench in front of us, holding herself up as she faces the sanctuary of the church.

“My perfect little church girl. Ready to pray for me?”

“Marcelo,” she nearly moans. “A—Are you sure this is okay?” June looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes pleading, begging it to be okay.

Sliding my hand up the back of her thigh, the material of the sheer tights under my palm stirring my cock to life, I round her ass and push the hem of the dress over it, baring her to me.

I pause. “Do you want this?”

June sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “S—so much has happened today. The demon—and you were just—” she pauses. “And Father Callum is still here.”

I press my nose into her ass cheek, feeling its roundness against my lips. It’s so fucking soft and squishy, so grabbable. I open my mouth and press my teeth into it, biting her ass. A whimper escapes her, but she presses her ass into my face rather than pulls away.

Releasing my teeth, I meet her starry eyes once more. “Do. You. Want. This?” I repeat.

June presses her lips together and nods. “Yes.”