The rubber band ball hits the wall with a thud and bounces back into my hand. I shift my feet on the desk, accidently kicking off the thick stack of Bibles. They hit the floor with a thud.
Cassia’s late.
It did cross my mind a few times during the week that maybe she wouldn’t show up, but I squashed the thought as soon as it sprung. The way she responded to me, the way her nipples strained against the fabric of her dress, and her thighs…pressing together whenever I spoke…
I was certain she’d show.
Catching the ball for the one-millionth time, I throw my legs off the desk, pull open the empty drawer and dump the ball inside. Sighing, I slam it shut and more Bibles fall as I push myself to my feet.
What a waste of a good Friday night. I blew off that Asian stripper for this? Fucking bullshit. And now I’m going to go home and jerk off to the same girl who stood me up? It’s a sad, sad night.
I step around the desk chair and saunter over to the window. Small, white lanterns light up the lawn, casting an ominous glow over the various flowers. My mother had landscaped the grounds of the church on her own. She was a remarkable woman. Negativity couldn’t touch her…and it didn’t…not until my little sister was taken. It destroyed her. The grief ate at her and the blame was pushed on to me. Then she destroyed herself.
I close my eyes and shake my head, desperately trying to force the memories from my mind. The blood. The blade. My father crying. It wasn’t my fault. I was a child myself. There was no way I could’ve fought them off.
“Caleb?” A soft, light voice echoes around my skull. It’s pretty, like budding flowers on a fresh, spring morning.
“Caleb?”
I open my eyes, realizing the voice isn’t in my head. I glance over my shoulder…and there she is. I drag my sights from her white, high top sneakers onto her tight, black yoga pants that cover three quarters of the beautiful, long legs I was exposed to on Sunday. Draped across her torso is a loose, gray tee that hangs off of one shoulder, exposing the upper portion of her bicep and the soft curve of her shoulder.
I skim over the black bra strap that sits flush against her skin and follow the rigid line of her collarbone until it leads me to her throat. A throat I would love nothing more than to shove my cock down. I wonder how deep she can take me. Is she a seasoned professional? Or is she a newbie? I don’t know which excites me more.
“Sorry I’m late.” She states, sheepishly reaching across to hold her elbow with the opposite hand. “Is it over?”
Slowly, I turn the rest of my body around. Suddenly, tonight doesn’t seem like such a waste.
“No.” I say. “Not yet.”
Her large, blue eyes scan over the empty hall. This hall is where I hold my Bible studies.
“Nobody is here…”
I can’t help it, I smile. “Are you expecting anyone else?”
Subtle panic flickers over her face before she catches it and smooths her features out. I can tell she thinks she’s unreadable. I can tell she thinks I have no idea what she’s thinking. She’s wrong. Every thought she has materializes on her face before she realizes it. Words can lie, but the human body cannot.
“Your father wouldn’t approve?” I ask, stepping out from behind the desk.
“Absolutely not.”
“And why is that? What did you do?”
I have an idea. The girl has been letting the boys play hide the penis with her body. Why else would her father feel uncomfortable about leaving her with me? She’s only here because her father trusts me. He’d never take her word.
I sit on the edge of the desk, crossing my legs at my ankles.
“It’s a long story.” Cassia states, sounding nervous and uncertain.
I glance up at the clock. “Is thirty three minutes enough?”
“It’s a private story.”
Her tone lights up with aggression and I grin. Okay. So her story is a no go zone for now. All right. I can play that game.
“So, you’re really here for Bible study? Only Bible study?”
Hesitation flickers over her face before she masks it with a frown. “What else would I be here for?”
What a fucking tease. Poor little needy girl, trying so desperately to impress her father. I can see her struggle so plainly on her face and in her body language. The unsteady rise and fall of her chest, the tremble in her thighs and the clench of her hands…she’s either extremely eager to study the Bible or fighting the urge to milk me with her tight pussy for all of my cum.
I know which one I prefer.
“Sit.” I tell her, flicking my head toward a lonesome table in the corner of the room. “Let’s spread your Bible open.”