Lust: A Forbidden Age Gap Romance (Purity Book 3)

I halt my typing to reach out and grab my bagel from the Styrofoam plate, placing my fingers carefully to avoid getting cream cheese on them. I can’t stand it when my keyboard gets greasy spots on it. Just as I take a big bite, Brandon appears in my doorway.

Perfect. Now I have an excuse to be short with him since my mouth is full.

I’ve been giving him one-word answers all day, and he’s noticed. I’m annoyed with myself for being passive aggressive, but I can’t help it.

I hate that he’s courting Sofia—a woman who doesn’t really interest him—when he won’t even consider me. Is it really because I’m fourteen years younger or is it something else?

Maybe it’s because I’m an atheist.

Maybe he doesn’t really think I’m worthy “all on my own” or whatever lip service he gave me that day at his house.

“What are you working on?” he asks.

I lift a finger in the air and purposely chew my food slowly. God, why am I so childish? When I finally swallow, I take a big sip of my coffee. “I’m writing the CEO of Beach Burger to see if we can hold the baptism on their private beach.”

He seems to perk up at that. “What a great idea.”

“I know his grandson. He’ll definitely say yes.”

I turn back to my computer, but he lingers in the doorway.

I wish I didn’t enjoy it. I wish I weren’t so petty that I made my silent treatment even worse when I saw how much it affected him.

“When you’re done with that…” In my periphery, I see him scratch the back of his head. “Do you think— Can you come to my office and help me with something?”

I keep my face carefully blank. “Sure. I’ll be there in a sec.”

I take my sweet time finishing my bagel before making my way to Brandon’s office. As soon as I step inside, I can tell something is off. I feel it in the air.

“What’s going on with you?” His voice is abrupt.

I avert my gaze. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been short with me today.”

I shrug. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Is that it, or is it…” His swallow is audible. “Is it something else?”

Is he trying to get me to admit what I know? He definitely seemed flustered yesterday after I called myself a naughty girl.

I probe him with a hard stare, and his eyes widen minutely. Is it just my imagination, or is a bit of his tan color leeching from his face? “What else could it be?” I ask with a faint tilt of my head.

His gaze falls to his lap. “I thought maybe you have a problem with what I said about your sister yesterday.”

Oh, right. The “gentle” comment.

“Yeah, I am a little annoyed with what you said about her.” I set my hands on my hips. “It shows how little you know her.”

His jaw clenches. “I’m trying to get to know her.”

“It also annoys me that you want a meek, submissive woman. I thought you were a different kind of pastor.”

His eyes flash. “What does it matter to you what kind of woman I want?”

His words hit me in the chest. I take a deep breath, trying to ease the stab of pain that he still doesn’t even consider me as a possible partner, even when he wants me physically.

“Are we back to where we were before?” My voice is quiet. “I thought we were starting to become friends.”

He blinks once. “We’ve always been friends.”

I shake my head sharply. “No, we haven’t. Until recently, you treated me like a little kid.”

He stands up and crosses those big arms over his chest. “I’m your pastor. There has to be some form of a boundary between us.”

“You’re like family,” I say, my voice rising.

“Exactly. I’m a father figure to you.”

When I snort out a laugh, his eyes grow wide. He’s so close now that his breath is hot on my face, and the tension between us is as tangible as a live wire. I lift my chin, smiling slowly. “Daddy.”

His jaw clenches so tightly it looks like it might snap in half, which sends a malicious thrill up my spine.

“I’ll be a good girl for you… Oh, wait. You prefer me naughty, right?”

His eyes grow huge, but I don’t wait for him to respond. I turn around and rush from the room, barely able to comprehend my own audacity.

Regret squeezes my chest when I glance at my computer clock. 5:03. I haven’t even seen Brandon since our conversation six hours ago. He’s been hiding out all day, even during lunchtime.

After I grab my purse, I head to his office. That shut wooden door looms in front of me, but I don’t let it deter me. After knocking once, I open the door without waiting for him to answer. His head jerks up. I’m just about to rush through an apology when my tongue freezes. He’s standing at his desk with a wad of toilet paper wrapped around his hand. A massive red spot sits at the center of the makeshift bandage.

“What happened?” I nearly shout.

He smiles sheepishly. “It’s almost too embarrassing to tell you.”

I place my hand on my hips. “Is that why you didn’t get the first aid kit? You didn’t want anyone to see.”

“We’re the only people here,” he says, and a chill skitters over my skin.

We’re all alone.

I swallow. “I’ll go get the first aid kit. Meet me in the nursery bathroom.”

A while later, we’re standing over the sink. Brandon’s hand is warm inside of mine. I try to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.

The dim lighting of the bathroom casts shadows over his face, hiding his expression, but the air is thick with unspoken words.

I turn on the faucet and run cold water over the wound. God, his hands are so big. What would they feel like roaming over my body?

I clear my throat. “How did you get this?”

“I was cutting an avocado.”

I frown. “An avocado? In your office?”

That sheepish smile returns, easing the tautness vibrating in the air between us. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you go to the kitchen?”

His expression shutters. “I wasn’t making a whole meal. I was just going to eat the avocado as a snack.”

I snort. “A plain avocado as a snack. What a gym rat thing to eat.”

“Old habits. I’m not much of a cook, unfortunately.”

“Well, I’m an excellent cook.” As I dab the moisture with a paper towel, every brush of his skin sends tingles up my arm. “I can always throw something together for you if you’re hungry.”

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even smile.

“It’s time for the peroxide.” I use the same cheerful voice I use with my littlest nephew, Mateo. “It’s going to sting, but it’s necessary.”

He smiles. “I’ve used peroxide before, Mariana.”

Mariana. I guess I’m only “Mari” in the heat of the moment.

I smile. “I was hoping you wouldn’t try to be tough.”

He winces as I pour the peroxide over the gash on his palm. It bubbles and hisses, and once it’s clear, I run the faucet again. After drying his wound, I place a big circular Band-Aid on his palm. As soon as I have it smoothed down, I lean down and press a kiss against his palm.

Holy fuck. What did I just do?

My pulse starts to pound. Heat washes over my cheeks and chest. “I’m so sorry. I was on autopilot. That’s what I do with Mateo.”

When I’m finally able to lift my face, Brandon’s eyes are almost black. He’s closer than he was just a split second ago. His swallow is audible. “Mari,” he croaks out.

Mari. It’s a whisper. A prayer.

“What?” My voice is breathless.

His mouth moves closer. Those full lips hover, and my head grows heavy. A moment later, his soft lips are on my neck. I gasp at the sensation of his hot mouth against my skin.

My hands instinctively go to his shoulders as I tilt my head, giving him better access to my neck. His hands are on my waist, holding me tightly as he kisses a trail up to my earlobe. His tongue must be peeking out of his mouth, because a warm wetness on my skin sends jolts of heat into my belly. I moan softly, my mind spinning with the realization of what’s happening.

He’s kissing me.

Holy shit. He’s kissing me.

He pulls back slightly, his breath hot against my ear. Those strong hands cut into my waist. His breathing grows ragged. He stays silent for what feels like an eternity.

“I knew it was a mistake,” he eventually says, his voice thick and husky. “I knew it was a mistake to let you touch me.”

“Please don’t stop,” I rasp.

His head jerks up, those dark eyes almost wild as they roam my face. “I want to stop. I want to stop so badly, but I can’t. I fucking can’t.” His big fingers thread into my hair before tightening into a fist, yanking my head back. The tingles of pain make me cry out as pleasure rushes into my belly.

“God, forgive me,” he whispers.

His lips crash against mine, and he devours my mouth. He kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. Like I’m sustenance.

Like he’ll die if he doesn’t have me now.

His mouth roams everywhere—my cheeks, my neck, even my eyelids. He grips my waist, and a moment later, my body grows weightless. He sets me on the cold bathroom sink and lifts the skirt of my dress. He stares between my legs with wild eyes.

“Oh, fuck.” He winces as if in pain. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I let out a whimper.

“I’m going to worship you.” He gets down on his knees. His large hands settle on my legs, and he presses a kiss against my inner thigh. The warmth of his lips sends a tingle straight to the spot between my legs that aches to be filled. I moan and move restlessly against him.

His warm breath tickles my pussy as he pulls my panties to the side. And then he’s there, his warm tongue rubbing up and down my clit. My hips flail from side to side, and he grips my hips to still me.

“Be my good girl,” he whispers against my clit. “Let me love you.”

Love. The word curls through my body like a vine seeking the light.

He slips a finger inside of me, and I clench around him. The groan that emanates from his chest sounds almost like a roar.

“So tight. My sweet girl.” His lips brush against my aching clit as he thrusts a second finger inside of me. I clench around him, arching my back. He adds a third finger, and my hips curl upward helplessly. I whimper, and he presses his mouth to my clit, sucking. My body begins to shudder, and I let out a low, mewling cry.

“That’s it, my girl.” He flicks his tongue against my clit. “You’re mine.”

Mine. A magical word coming from his lips.

“Yes!” I moan.

He pulls away, and I whimper at the loss of his hot mouth. His big palm pats my thigh. “Look at me. Now.”

My eyes fly open to meet his predatory gaze. “You’re going to come for me, and you’ll keep your eyes on me while you do it.”

“Yes.”

He squeezes my thigh. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

He groans. “That’s my girl.”

Those big fingers are inside me again, and I arch up off the floor. His thumb flicks against my clit. It’s a soft motion at first, but then he begins to move as rhythmically and rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings. “Come for me, Mari.”

I let out a cry, and the world around me falls away. All that exists is heat and skin and his heavenly voice.

“Good girl.” His voice comes from far away.

Brandon

My chest is so heavy, it’s hard to take a breath. The realization that hit me a few minutes ago is now threatening to strangle my throat.

It can’t be true. I wish it weren’t true.

But I can’t deny it.

The euphoria of tasting her was more heady than the moment I gave my life to Christ.

She’s dangerous, by no fault of her own. I never covet in moderation. If I give her even a little of myself, she might take my soul with her when it’s over.

It must stop now.

“Mari,” I croak out.

She looks at me dreamily. The image of her languid eyes and tussled hair is so sweet it will probably be burned into my memory forever.

“What?” she whispers.

“I’m so sorry.”

She lets out a sweet sigh. “I’m not sorry at all.”

I wince, brushing her hair from her face so I can get a better look at those clear, dark eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. That wasn’t your fault, Mari. I took advantage of you.”

Her adorable little brow furrows. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m your boss.” I swallow. “I’m your pastor.”

That cheeky smile I love tugs at her lips, though her eyes are still sleepy. “My father figure.” A soft laugh emanates from her chest. “Brandon, you’re not really my boss. Or my pastor. What you are is codependent.”

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

She stares at me for a beat. “You know you never should have indulged my dad.”

I grit my teeth. “What you call codependent, I call basic human decency. He’s my best friend, and he asked me to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but you’re also letting him get into your head. Who cares if I’m younger than you? We’re both—”

“I care.”

When she flinches, I realize I raised my voice louder than I intended.

“My integrity is important to me. As a pastor, a Christian… As a human being.”

Her nostrils flair. “And how has your integrity been compromised?”

“I’m courting your sister, Mariana. Has that not even occurred to you?”

Hesitation creeps into her eyes, but it fades almost as quickly as it came. “She’s not invested in you. Gorgeous women like Sofia don’t waste their energy on men who clearly aren’t into them.”

“And how would she feel if she saw us right now?”

The vulnerability that flashes on her face makes me want to reach out and stroke her cheek, but I can’t. I can never touch her again.

What a miserable thought.

“She’d be upset,” Mari eventually says. “But mostly because…”

I lean forward, my hands straining at my sides as I fight to keep them off her. “Because she’d feel betrayed. By me. A man she trusts, one who’s supposed to be courting her. A pastor and friend of her dad’s. Who just mauled her sister in the bathroom of his own church.”

A languid little smile tugs at her lips. God, she’s so adorable after an orgasm, like a sleepy kitten. God must be testing me to give me just a taste of this and expect me to never slip up again.

“Is this a kink of yours?” she asks.

My head jerks back. “What?”

“Making me out to be some innocent young woman who doesn’t know how to stop a big strong man like you when he wants her.”

My lips twitch, but I try to keep my expression stern. “Watch it, young lady.”

Her smile grows. “So it is a kink?”

I avert my gaze to the tiled wall. I can’t indulge in a conversation like this with her, no matter how much I want to. “I’m going to have to end things with your sister. Tomorrow, if I can arrange a time to see her.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her move her skirt down her hips. I’m dying to get one last look at that pretty pink pussy, but I keep my gaze fixed on the wall.

“That’s for the best,” she says as she steps down onto the floor. “For her too. I get the feeling she wants to show you off to Finn at Livvy’s wedding. She needs to get over him.”

“Maybe you need to get over him too.”

Her head whips in my direction. “What do you mean?”

“Why is it your place to decide when she gets over a man she loved deeply? Maybe you should let her heal on her own time.”

Her nostrils flare as she pulls down her skirt. “It’s been three years.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that. Many times.”

“Okay, well—” She crosses her arms over her chest and glances at the door “That was lovely, Brandon. We should make it a regular thing after you break up with Sofia.”

I reach out and grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I know you’re joking, but I want to be clear that this can never happen again.”

Her expression shutters. “Yeah, you’ve made it clear, Daddy.”

“None of that, either. You seem to have an understanding of…what it does to me.”

She snorts. “Yeah, I understand kink. I have sex like a normal person. Just like you used to before your whole celibacy thing. I’m not a baby like you seem to think I am.”

I lift my head heavenward. God, help me with this bold woman. “I’ll stop calling you ‘young lady.’ I don’t want us to even tease when it comes to this. Our relationship has to be different from now on.”

“Right. We’ll go back to you treating me like a child.”

“My volunteer PA.” I correct, squeezing her chin. “That’s what you are, Mariana. Do you have any idea what kind of scandal would erupt if people found out about what just happened in here?”

Those dark, gold-tinted eyes grow bewildered. “Could you get fired?”

I sigh. “I’m not sure. But what I just did is not okay.”

She scoffs. “Those rules are arbitrary. You didn’t coerce me.”

“It doesn’t matter. Men of God aren’t supposed to eat out their interns in the house of God.”

“Fuck,” she says, and the word on her lips sends a lick of heat over my cock like a slippery tongue. “It’s so hot when you say it like that.”

I let out a low groan. “Please. Don’t talk that way. Never again.”

She’s quiet for a while. Am I imagining that those lips are quivering? She’s not the only one who wants to cry that the magic between us is over forever.

“I can do that for you,” she eventually says. “We could have had a lot of fun. It’s a bummer you had to take me on as your intern.”

With that, she walks out of the bathroom and quietly shuts the metal door behind her, and I want to weep.