Page 68 of Sinful King
“I…” I took a breath. “I can’t make informed decisions with your dick inside me, Oisin.”
Another knock at the bathroom door and he gently removed himself and set me on my feet.
I kept my skirt hiked while Sean cleaned me with the personal sized…
I squinted and smiled.
…unscented PH balancing wipes, he’d pulled from inside his coat hanging over the bathroom stall door.
“You planned this?”
“Orgasms calm you,” he said nonchalantly, cleaning himself after me, then adjusting and belting his black slacks. “Don’t let any of them see you sweat, Amoy. Or hurt, iight?”
I nodded, let my silk skirt fall and shook my head at the tiny rumples having it above my waist created; it stopped just above the knee and covered the fact I wore knee highs underneath.
Sean fixed my oversized knitted sweater and then pulled me in front of him, still waiting for my answer.
“I have to do this my way, okay?”
He nodded and kissed my forehead.
Thankfully I’d gone makeup-less aside from shading in my brows and clear lip gloss. After retouching my lips, I took Sean’s hand and closed my eyes.
“Lord, forgive us for this sin and all the others we’re about to commit.”
When I opened them again, everything I’d been feeling—before he dragged me to the only bathroom in the church everyone forgot was there—had disappeared.
“Take this…” Sean handed my coat and his to Lorcan after we emerged from the bathroom. “Let Tadhg know to have the casket brought in.”
He nodded and went up, switching places with Liam who wore a look of disgust on his face.
“Me and churches don’t get along,” he mumbled, looking around as if the spirit of the lord would jump out at him.
“Do you believe?” I asked, not surprised at how quickly he shook his head.
“I believe in God, not the church.”
Mmm.
“Or you believe in God and not his followers,” I mused, more to myself then him as Sean led us up the stairwell to the main entrance. “The church is what the people inside make it. Sometimes those people aren’t good…” I shrugged and watched Lorcan and Tadhg lead the pallbearers from the funeral home inside. “And sometimes, the good suffer because of it.”
The pallbearers stopped in front of us and I reached out to touch the white casket with gold trim.
“I hope you enjoy your home going service, ma.”
The sanctuary doors opened, which meant the last prayer after communion—but before my father started his sermon— had ended.
“Whoa! What is this?” the church mother at the door asked, white gloved hands still crossed beneath her breast as she let the door close behind her and stepped forward. “I can’t let you inside with—”
Good morning, church family!
My father’s voice and the congregations response boomed, reaching even my ears.
Good morning, pastor!
“You’ll move out of my way,” I stated calmly, once in front of her. “Or, I could move you.”
Her eyes bounced between me and everyone standing behind me, including the casket. This one hadn’t been around when I attended church more regularly, but she made a smart decision and shakily stepped aside.
