Page 6 of Altered By Fire (Undercover Sinners 1)
"Yes?" I call out, and hear a shaking in my voice. Like I'm timid, submissive.
Screw that.
"Yes?" Clearing my throat, I call again. This time my voice is stronger, and I mentally pat myself on the back. Natalia Petrova is no shrinking violet, thank you very much. The only time I ever play submissive to a man is during sex—and even then, it's only a game.
My father told me time and time again that a good woman is one who is seen and not heard, but I say fuck that.
"Natalia?" The deep rumble sounds familiar, and I can't fight the smile when Mace's dark head pokes around the door. "I wondered if you might be hungry? The guys just cooked breakfast if you'd like to join us?"
"Oh." I blink at him, confused for a moment. When is the last time I ate real food? I can't even remember. My stomach rumbles loudly and Mace smiles.
"Come on, Arsen is a seriously good cook and you look half-starved, girl," he coaxes me and I’m helpless to refuse. “Besides, you’ll end up meeting the crazy fuck sooner or later. May as well be over food.”
Gingerly, I push the sheets back from my legs and climb out of the bed. As I stand, I notice the bed is made of wrought iron and has bars at the head and foot that are just screaming to be used for something significantly less … pious.
"Everything okay, Natalia?" The huge man—priest—asks me and I gasp. Shit. I didn't say that aloud, did I?
Casting a surreptitious look at him from under my lashes, I don't see any shock or dismay on his face, so it must have been in my head.
"Yup." I nod, feeling more confident even as I know a light blush is staining my cheeks. "Who do I have to thank for the T-shirt?"
Glancing down at the soft fabric, I notice with curiosity that it's a Metallica concert shirt, so surely not one of the priests? Maybe it's from their lost and found or something?
"Huh?" he replies as he leads the way out of the room. "Oh, that's one of Colt's. He thought it'd be more comfortable to sleep in than those scratchy as fuck nun's robes." He pauses, turning to face me with an odd twist to his lips. "Sorry, the cursing is a hard habit to break."
"Doesn't bother me," I grin, quietly both confused as all fuck and seriously turned on by these priests who seem to break every rule in the book. And I do mean The Book.
"So, you guys are all like … new? To being, um, priests?" I fumble with this question, still not really knowing which flavor of Christianity I've stumbled into. He admitted as much to me last night, but I want to make conversation, and make sure it wasn’t a delusion.
The black shirt and pants with the little white collar that Mace wore seemed to indicate Catholicism, but what the fuck do I know? The extent of my religious knowledge comes from books and movies.
"Why do you say that?" Mace asks sharply, and I raise an eyebrow at him. Something tells me there’s more to this sexy man of God than the caring protector I've seen thus far.
"Um." I point to the logo across my breasts. "Metallica concert shirt? Cursing? Hawke having tats? Kinda seems like you all came to this calling a little later in life?"
Mace stands there, staring at me with an unreadable expression, so I rush to backtrack, hoping I haven't offended him. I need their help, so I can’t afford to be tossed out like yesterday's trash, but I’m almost positive he told me he was new.
"It's cool if you did. I mean, that's why I'm here, right? I need salvation." My words practically trip over one another, and I swear when I say this, Mace's eyes heat.
"Well, my child," he murmurs, clearing his throat, "you came to the right church for that."
Without actually answering me, he turns back around and leads the way down some narrow stairs to the kitchen where Hawke made me tea last night. As we approach, I can hear the sound of several men's voices, and I bite my lip nervously.
Is it sinful of me to be rolling the sound of Mace's voice over in my head, hearing him call me my child in that deep and smoky voice of his? I still have no panties on, and I know without checking that my pussy is damp.
Is it a sin to sit in a kitchen, eating breakfast with a group of priests, while I fantasize about how I might like to corrupt them?
Yes, Natalia. Yes, it is.
But will that stop me?
Not a chance in hell.
I guess I'm about to get educated, right?
In that moment, if I'd known the type of education I was going to get would involve leather paddles and crucifixes, handcuffs, and five hard cocks, I … well, I definitely wouldn't have run away. No, I'd have done exactly what I did anyway and gone down those stairs after Mace.
