Tasting the Forbidden - A Mayhem Erotica Anthology by Les Joseph, Kit Neuhaus, Evelyn R. Baldwin, L.J. Anderson, K.I. Lynn Read Free Book Online Page A

week. Same place, same time.”
    Tyson felt his lips tug into an understanding smile. “Got it, bro.”
    Alex nodded and walked back into the house to find Selena pacing across the room. She turned to him, panic and grief in her eyes.
    “Alex,” she whimpered.
    “Shh. Let’s take a shower, Selena. We’ve had a dirty afternoon.”
     

ALTERED
     
     
    Evelyn R. Baldwin
     
    Copyright © 2013 Evelyn Baldwin
    Edited by Lynda Martin
    Cover Art © Mayhem Cover Creations
    All rights reserved, worldwide.
    Special Thanks to:
    Lynda and Bel for their edits.
     

     
    Father Grady has been happy with his life as a servant of God. He's never questioned what else the universe has to offer until a young woman choses his church for her daily prayers. He's instantly captivated by her beauty, but can't convince himself that his feelings are just those of a lonely man, deprived of a woman's intimate touch. Despite never speaking to her, he's convinced that somehow, this woman has left him altered.
     

In nomine Patris,
    et Filium,
    et Spiritus sanctus … ɸ
     
    Ϯ
    E very day she came in and kneeled in the first pew. I couldn’t help but wonder where, or who, she’d been on her knees in front of when she wasn’t here. It was the same vicious circle: I would think impure thoughts and castigate myself in my office or confessional chamber, then count the minutes until she returned the next day so I could repeat the cycle.
    Today was no different. She was in the front pew, her hands folded and resting against her forehead as she prayed for forgiveness. I wondered what she’d done that she needed to come here and pay penance for each day. Was she is a bad girl? Did she have sinful thoughts?
    I couldn’t help the tainted images from creeping in. It wouldn’t matter how much I berated myself. When it came to her, there was no use in trying to be a man of God. She’s a tree, standing in the Garden of Eden, fruit dripping from her branches. While I know I am forbidden to taste her offerings, the illusory serpent still slithered from her branches, beckoning me to partake.
    I still remember what she wore the first day I saw her. The way her lipstick was crisp on her lips, not smudged. She took pride in her appearance, even though her dress was provocative. I must admit, my first thought was she was a prostitute. However, small details told me she was just self-assured—at least I hoped that was the case. Most of the prostitutes I’d seen come through the line at the soup kitchen wore cheap clothing, often tattered and threadbare. I also never saw them in the chapel praying. They were interested in the free food, not the free spiritual guidance.
    I’d never seen her before, not in the soup line, the confessional, or in the pews praying. I almost approached her that first day, but her posture suggested she was deep in thought. As a man of abundant faith, I understood the moments shared with Christ, the moments where everything else in the world fades away. It was a moment I wouldn’t want to take from anyone, but that didn’t stop me from watching her from the choir balcony.
    Weeks passed this way, her kneeling and praying while I watched from the choir balcony. At first, I catalogued her physical appearance, the clothes she wore each visit, her shoes, makeup. But as the days passed, I began to look past the inconsequential and began to focus on her behavior, analyzing it. Her penitence showed each visit. She was struggling with something, her despondency evident in the way she walked into the sanctuary. Her shoulders were heavy with the burden she carried, but she returned each morning, somehow assured that her time here, along with prayer, would help her find abatement.
    After a time, merely watching her was no longer satisfactory. I was thinking of her first thing in the morning, rising early to make sure I didn’t miss her visit, then last thing at night, praying to God he would continue granting me strength to battle her