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Blessed: A Bad Priest Romance
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Bless me Father, for her very name is Sin…
Her body is temptation.
I’m no stranger to carnal pleasures.
This is madness.
As many times as it takes.
This book is not for everyone. There are no cliffhangers nor is there any cheating, but if you are easily offended, please think twice. HEA guaranteed.
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“Would you like anything to drink, sir?” The young stewardess asks me, and I shake my head politely.
“I’m fine, thank you, Lisa,” I say, reading her name from the tag on her breast.
“Let me know if you need anything,” she continues, looking straight into my eyes. “Anything,” she adds, stressing the word in a way that’s almost too forceful. Keeping a serene posture, I look back at her and just give her an acknowledging nod.
“Thank you,” I repeat, making sure that my words are polite but curt. Her eager smile fades slightly and, even though she bats her eyelids at me a few times, she finally turns on her heels and struts back to her seat at the end of the cabin. Of course, she sways her hips lewdly as she walks down the aisle, her round ass cheeks flexing under her tight stewardess skirt.
We’re alone in the small cabin of the plane, just the two of us, and that’s definitely helping her being this brash. Even though I’m looking out the window right now, the United States coastline is already shaping up in the distance, I know that if I turn around and look at her, she’d look right back at me with a devilish stare.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s not like she isn’t a beautiful woman, because she definitely is all that and then some. Full lips, long brown hair down to her shoulders, and a figure capable of driving any man to the brink of insanity… She’s everything a man wants in a woman, at least when it comes down to our most primal instincts.
If this little scene happened a few years ago, I’d be telling you a very different story right now. I mean, me and a beautiful woman inside a private jet? It isn’t hard to figure out the consequences of that. But, unfortunately for our friend Lisa, I’m not the same man I used to be. But, of course, it’s also possible that the kind of man I am right now is also what’s making Lisa so interested.
You see, even though I’m wearing a black tailored suit right now, I’m not like other handsome men my age. I’ve devoted my life to a higher purpose, and this young stewardess knows that.
No, I’m not a priest, if that’s what you’re thinking.
I’m part of what’s called the Order of the Temple, a community of men who have devoted their lives to the betterment of the world. We’re not exactly priests or monks, though; we’re secular men, pooling our knowledge and resources to make the world a better place. We work under the tutelage of the Catholic Church, and we have our origins in a story from the Gospels: it’s said that when Jesus visited the temple in Jerusalem, the place was packed with merchants. In a bout of righteous fury, he kicked them all out, accusing them of turning the temple into a “den of thieves.”
The Order of the Temple emerged as a secretive branch of the Catholic Church, and our purpose is to guide the most powerful and wealthy men in the world. No, we’re not some kind of Illuminati society. It’s nothing like that; we don’t seek power or control. All we want to do is guide those with the most power in society toward the greater good.
Of course, most people have a hard time accepting the fact that I’ve devoted my life to such a mission. That’s only normal, I suppose—after all, I’m not exactly the kind of guy you’d believe to be spiritual or religious.
I’m 6’1, as ripped as an Olympian, and I’ve got the looks to back it up, at least that’s what the women I come across insist on telling me. I think that most people just can’t accept the fact that a guy like me could have a higher calling. And, to be honest with you, I used to think the same.
Back when I was just an eighteen-year-old, making my dent in a D-I school as a football player, I had everything a guy my age could’ve wanted, which of course, means that I had women throwing themselves at my feet every single hour of the day.
Somehow, that got old fast. There was a certain hollowness inside me, and that hollowness kept on growing with each time I succumbed to lust. The way I see it, I was a young weak man and, above all things, I wanted to be strong.
Most guys my age would be lost if they felt like I did, but I knew exactly the one person who could help me out: my father. Just like me, he was a loose cannon throughout his twenties, going through girls faster than he would go through a shirt. That changed when he met my mother; he knocked her up and, one month later, they got married. Despite her pregnancy being the reason behind their marriage, I think that they just wanted to make it formal; their love was genuine.