A Preacher's Passion by Lutishia Lovely Read Free Book Online

this woman loved to abandon. He in that moment knew he was going to sleep with Carla Lee just as sure as he knew his name. It wasn’t a question of if, but when. There was an unspoken conversation happening between them, one of which neither was totally aware. While Lavon was an admitted church ho in the past, he’d shied away from married women. For the last few years he’d pretty much toed the straight and narrow, until today. Now, all bets were off. He sensed Carla Lee was just like the smothered pork chop she’d just enjoyed—spicy, appetizing, and finger-licking good.
    “Should we discuss the series’ intro now or…after we eat?” Lavon asked slowly.
    Carla felt warmth from her belly button to her G-spot. “Afterward,” she breathed, visions of replacing her plastic penis with the real thing dancing in her head. The desire for Lavon was so unexpected and so strong, she didn’t even have time to process it. She just reacted to its call.
    Carla and Lavon finished their food quickly and got up from the table. Neither had to voice what they both knew was getting ready to happen. Any page in the Bible would have decried her actions, so Carla kept the mental book closed. She locked the front door and directed Lavon toward the stairs. “Straight down the hall and through the last door on your left,” she said softly.
    Carla admired Lavon’s muscular legs as he climbed the stairs, tight buns encased in the slacks of a casual khaki summer suit. She walked to the kitchen, placed the dishes in the dishwasher, made sure all the stove’s burners were off, and reached for the phone. There were a few calls to make that included three kids and a church assistant, to make sure she knew how much time she had without interruptions.
    The moment felt surreal, as if it were happening to someone else. While always gregarious and earthy, she was a woman of control. But not now. Now, she was getting ready to do something she hadn’t done in a decade…have really, really good sex. Because there was no doubt in Carla’s mind. Lavon would be real good.
    Lavon felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of cavorting in Stanley Lee’s bed. But to his pleasant surprise and Carla’s measured sense of decency, he correctly guessed that what he stepped into was a guest room. Tastefully decorated in muted blues, grays, and tans, with contrasting black furniture, it was thankfully impersonal, with pictures of the ocean dressing two of the four walls. A mirrored closet ran the length of the wall directly across from the king-size bed. The faint, floral fragrance of lavender hung in the air, the only decidedly feminine effect in the entire room. The room was understated elegance, as was Carla’s entire home. This fact had surprised him upon his first visit; he’d imagined Carla’s home would be full of loud, vibrant colors, a bit of garishness thrown in just because. Maybe in other rooms, he mused, as he sat down on the bed and fingered the silk comforter. But he decided against asking for a grand tour. The last thing he needed was to get too comfortable in another man’s house. He knew he’d already seen more than he should have, but also knew there was no going back from the decision. As he stood to take off his jacket, the door opened.
    Carla slipped into the room, eyeing Lavon nervously. She’d changed into a loose-fitting, thigh-length house dress, with a zipper that ran from top to bottom. She wore nothing underneath. All of a sudden, she felt like a schoolgirl, about to “do it” in her mama’s house before Mama returned home. Her stomach was all aflutter, her breath short and quick.
    Lavon sensed her nervousness, and her excitement. “Come here,” he commanded softly, yet in a tone that brooked no argument.
    Though her legs could barely move, Carla managed to make her way around the bed and stand in front of Lavon. At five-foot-eight, she was just a couple inches shorter than him, and probably only thirty, forty pounds