Preacher's Daughter: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  “Not as well as I know you, Noah Templeton,” she says, curtly, distracting me perfectly by grabbing my hand and slipping it between her legs.

  “Now come help hose me down in the shower before I have to have your face between my legs again.”

  I growl with enthusiasm, instantly forgetting again.

  Forgetting the case.

  Forgetting the little pig-nosed repairman.

  Forgetting her Dad and the whole town that knows I’m here by now.

  There’s something in her touch, when her skin’s against mine, it just makes me forget everything else.

  And I just know I have the same effect on her.

  That much I can tell already, my job, the reason I’m here so far at the back of my mind now, I couldn’t care.

  My only interest is what she’s just said.

  Shower and her. The two words in the same sentence are instant amnesia for me.

  I watch her from behind as she leads me up those stairs again, this time to her room for a very different reason.

  It’s hot now, the sun higher in the cloudy sky and a definite moist heat in the air.

  Something we’re both glad to escape for a long while under the cool jets of her shower.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Faith

  Totally naked, under a cool shower with Noah. His rock hard body has deep tan lines, with the most sensitive areas only a shade lighter.

  It’s the only time I’ll see him with his boots off too, he warns me, making me feel smaller again but still flabby by comparison.

  He fills half the bathroom let alone the tub shower I have but we move around enough to get plenty of cool water over us both and often enough to take the edge off the rising heat of the day.

  “Does that thing ever go down?” I ask, gripping his thickness again before realizing it’s a little insensitive of me, seeing as I closed the pussy window not that long ago.

  But the man’s self-control is as powerful as his whole body, he just shrugs and smiles.

  “Anything against you feels great, Faith. We don’t have to… you know. We can just do other stuff, like this. It’s nice,” he says as he holds me closer, pressing his member right up against me and moaning as it starts to slip up and down between my thick breasts.

  I want to do a hundred things with Noah, but somehow going all the way under my Dad’s roof feels like bad luck somehow.

  Bad luck for me if my Dad ever found out, that’s for starters.

  But I want Noah to feel a hundred percent comfortable too, and I can tell he’s got more than just me and my Dad’s house on his mind.

  I know he doesn’t want to stay, he said he can’t. As much as I try to push it to the back of my mind, I slowly start to prepare myself for the truth.

  The facts.

  I know I won’t be able to stay here and let Noah go anywhere without me now. Not now and not ever, I want him to claim me properly and I think we both silently know that doing that here isn’t gonna work.

  As nice as it might be, it just wouldn’t work for either of us.

  Enough time under the water and Noah points out how wrinkly I’m getting. I feel tired too, like the whole day and a half since yesterday is suddenly too much on top of another sultry afternoon of weather I still haven’t gotten used to.

  My college was on the East coast, but it was a good twenty degrees cooler there when I left.

  “I’m gonna dry you off and lay you down, Faith. You look beat. Don’t go pretending you can go all day on my account,” Noah tells me, a matter of fact.

  I feel silly that he can read my mood so easily, whereas he really does look like he could go all day, and then some.

  “Will you lay down with me?” I ask him, gasping and moaning lightly as he brushes me delicately from head to toe with my towel.

  “Of course I will,” he whispers in my ear, kissing it. “I think you have that little spoon look about you right about now.”

  The air conditioner does work, and setting it just right, Noah is true to his word and snuggles up behind me as I ease back into his nakedness with my own, wondering if I’ll ever be able to put clothes on when he’s around ever again.

  It just feels so natural to be naked with him, having him hold me like this. Telling me how much I turn him on.

  The one thing I’ve been meaning to ask him plays on my lips. I half ask the question a couple of times and almost hear his prompting me, but I fall asleep almost instantly.

  A rumble of thunder that should wake me doesn’t.

  It’s not feeling Noah spooning me that makes me awake with a start, clutching the sheets to my bare chest and shivering.

  I’m terrified for a moment that I might have dreamt the whole thing. The light outside, my nakedness after my shower. It’s all so much like it was last night.

  Except there’s no Noah.

  No feeling of his powerful eyes watching me.

  I leap out of the bed, the pleasant ache between my legs reminding me that I haven’t dreamt any of it, but where is he?

  I call out for him, wondering if he’s just using the bathroom or maybe getting something to eat from downstairs.

  I wrap myself in my Japanese robe, feeling it cling to me once the stuffiness of the rest of the house hits me.

  “Noah?” I go from room to room, then back upstairs, even calling out back from my window for him, half-imagining he’s climbed back up his tree.

  But he’s gone.

  Having an idea, I rush downstairs, knowing he wouldn’t leave without that old beat-up case. I saw he had it by the door when he arrived, but it’s gone now too.

  It feels like something’s hit me in my chest. Like I can’t breathe properly.

  A horrible ache spreads from my heart and lungs, filling my stomach with a sick feeling that only makes me want to cry.

  And I do, I start to cry like I’ve never cried in my life.

  What starts as a dry croak disappears into a vacant, howling sound as I curl up on the couch, hugging a pillow and still smelling him on it I cry a little harder.

  Different shakes now, different sounds from my body. Different feelings from the same place he made me feel so special just a few hours before.

  I don’t want to believe it, I can’t.

  He said he wanted me to promise myself to him and I did. He wouldn’t just leave.

  He just wouldn’t.

  But he has, and the only sound apart from the heaving sigh of thunder outside is the clock on the mantle, all drowned out by my own sobs once they take hold.

  I cry until I can’t cry anymore until the need to know what’s happened is stronger than my own misery.

  Hauling myself off the couch, I make my way to the kitchen, struggling to remember Fitz’s number.

  I just can’t remember though. Try as I might, I just can’t.

  Against my instincts, I call the only number I know by heart, my Dad’s cell.

  Mine’s upstairs somewhere, probably still tucked in my backpack, dead.

  He answers almost straight away and as soon as I hear his voice I know this was a stupid idea.

  He can tell I’m crying before I even say two words.

  “What is it, Faith? What’s happened?” he asks before I can even put a sentence together.

  Taking a breath to try and ask him if he knows anything somehow, he speaks right over me.

  Preacher.

  “I’m glad you rang Faith, are you alright? I want you to make sure and lock all the doors and windows. I spoke to Fitz… and a few other folks, including Sheriff Brodie. Apparently, there’s an armed gang on the loose, held up a bank truck across the state line… man on the loose around our way isn’t unlikely.”

  I bolt upright, feeling a new edge of excitement replacing my sadness straight away.

  Noah, a fugitive running from a heist?

  I don’t know why, but the very idea sets my heart racing again, a smile spreads across my face and I start to machine-gun my Dad with questions, turning t
he tables on him a little.

  Okay, a lot.

  I almost squeal with delight as I consider the possibilities. Nothing this exciting ever happens to me, let alone in our town.

  “Faith?” My Dad says firmly, skipping my questions. “Now, tell me what happened after this stranger left this morning, which way did he go, and what did he look like? Sheriff Brodie will most likely come by and ask some questions, get tire prints. All that sort of thing… Faith?”

  “When are you coming home, Daddy?” I ask, ignoring his questions, glancing at the clock.

  “Well, I was going to leave it until tomorrow, but if this man’s who we think he is I’ll be on the next flight home,” he says, sounding like he’s packing his bag as we speak.

  Making a face and clenching my jaw, I feel so helpless. Like I wish there was a way I could delay him coming home somehow. So I could go look for Noah myself.

  “You don’t need to rush back Dad, that guy’s long gone and if he’s a bank robber, then I’m a supermodel.” I groan, letting the thrill of the fantasy die again.

  He left, he had his fun and like any guy would he told me a bunch of crap and when he saw his out, he left.

  Simple.

  All the old feelings, everything I told myself before yesterday comes flooding back.

  In no time I even hear my Dad sigh, relieved.

  He can hear his daughter’s safe and she’s definitely back.

  “Well, if you think you could manage just one more night?” he asks. “I still haven’t even put in our budget submission… it’s kind of important I do that while I’m here,” he says meekly.

  I pretend to stifle a yawn, eyeing the keys to the old dodge on the rack.

  “I’ll be okay Daddy. I’ve still got unpacking to do and if I see any strange men in trees I’ll call Sheriff Brodie,” I drone.

  “Men in trees? Faith, are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, sounding worried again.

  “I’ll be fine Dad. Just tired is all. Must be the weather, love you,” I tell him, sounding off and hanging up the phone.

  I groan again when I hear a truck pulling up out front, Sheriff Brodie must be here after all, which doesn’t surprise me.

  But when I look out the window, it’s not his truck at all. It’s a different one.

  Orange and white.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Noah

  Laying with Faith right up against me, it all clicks for me.

  This is what I want, nothing less.

  I want her all day, every day and for every other day after that. The details?

  Pfft! I’m not interested in the details right now.

  Having the girl of my dreams up against my aching dick, still tasting her sweet essence in my mouth as I stroke her hair in her sleep.

  It doesn’t get any better than this. This is the only detail that matters, right here in my arms.

  I doze for a bit, but soon the noise from the air conditioning unit, the kind of storm that’s trying to blow outside… sooner than later they all start to match the old thoughts coming back.

  The shit I need to be doing.

  Surely I can have a day off, a little rest is all?

  You’ve had two days now already. That case isn’t going to deliver itself.

  That damned suitcase.

  May as well have the damned thing tied around my neck it’s such a lead weight in my life now. Has been for a whole week now even though I only started out on the road yesterday.

  Can’t even shit without taking it with me.

  It’s safe under the table, I’m in a preacher’s house for god’s sake. What could possibly happen to it?

  But it keeps gnawing at me, same as knowing my truck’s out on the road.

  Sure it’s behind some trees, but anyone who’s looking could spot it easily.

  I stay still for as long as I can, still enjoying the sounds and feeling, the smell of Faith’s hair on my chest as she sleeps.

  Until finally, I know what I have to do.

  She hardly stirs and as much as I want to stay in her bed, I make my way downstairs after getting dressed to get started on what I actually came here for in the first place.

  There’s an old barn opposite the other side of the huge house, not as old as the house itself, but looks promising for a supply of gas and maybe even something to mend my radiator hose with.

  The afternoon sky is still dark with storm clouds, the odd large drop of rain, and roll of thunder, but it looks like it might blow itself out before it even starts.

  The Preacher must have a ready supply of just about everything anybody in need could ever ask for in the old barn.

  There’s plenty of gas in cans ready to go and I even find an old length of thick hose I know I can make do with until I get the truck to a shop for more proper, in-depth repairs.

  For now, it’ll get me back on the road. Get us back on the road, I remind myself. Certain that Faith will come with me, she just has to.

  Counting my blessings for the day, I make my way over and take maybe an hour and a half to do what’s needed to get the truck running again.

  Not a soul passes the house or me and my truck, so I tell myself I can rest easy leaving Faith alone all the way across the road and the suitcase still under her old man’s coffee table.

  If it weren’t for her Dad coming back, I could gladly hole up here for a long while yet, but duty calls.

  A promise is a promise.

  As if by divine providence, my truck starts with the first turn of the key, and I might be imagining things, but the gas gauge even looks to have moved some, maybe even showing the right amount in the tank for a change.

  I leave her running for a while, even just to convince myself that something actually worked for a change.

  Since coming here, since meeting Faith, it’s like my whole life has started to make sense.

  The day before yesterday, I would have punched anyone who tried to tell me things would get better and soon.

  Seemed like everything I touched up until then either broke, ran out, or plain didn’t happen for me. No matter how hard I tried, it felt like my usual magic touch had left me.

  That’s all changed now, I can feel it.

  Once I feel sure the truck’s feeling as happy as I do, I pull out from behind the trees and take a short spell up the road to double-check she’s not gonna overheat again before I turn back and pull up out front of the old plantation house.

  I see some movement in the kitchen window, and once I get closer to the front door, I realize I didn’t exactly plan my re-entry too well.

  I locked it behind me, wanting to make sure Faith was safe and sound but didn’t figure out how I could get back in if she were asleep.

  It looks like she’s up though, and I half-hope she’s making us something else to eat.

  I’m famished again, and even hungrier for her.

  Pushing the bell, I wait for her to open the door, but nothing. I ring again and then again.

  Getting worried now, I knock loudly.

  “Faith?” I call out, taking a step back to see if I can see her on the upper floor, but the door swings open and in a moment, she’s in my arms again.

  “Hey! I was jus-”

  Her hand across my face shocks me a little, and I can see at once that she’s not in a joking mood.

  She starts to cry again, beating on my chest and calling me every name under the sun.

  Names I’m surprised a Preacher’s daughter even knows, let alone how to use with such force.

  Finally, I grab both her wrists, and trying to calm her down, I guide her inside and lean against the door to close it.

  “Alright,” I tell her, “What’s wrong Faith, what’s happened?”

  “You! You’re what’s happened. I woke up and thought you’d left. I thought you’d gone for good… I was so scared… I got so…” her face is against my chest now, tears streaming from her eyes and all I can do is hold her, making soft sounds and just holding her while I
feel like the biggest asshole that ever walked the earth.

  “I was just fixing the truck, baby,” I tell her. “I didn’t wake you because you looked so peaceful, happy.”

  “Why’d you really come back?” she spits. “Forget something?” her eyes move to the lounge room, the suitcase under the table in plain sight from where we’re standing.

  Furrowing my brow, I remind her, “I didn’t leave in the first place, Faith. I was across the road fixing my truck.”

  But I can see that once she’s wound up like this, just like the weather, she’ll have to blow herself out.

  I can only do the best I can, be here for her until she calms down.

  But boy, she really is wound up.

  I wonder what happened since I went out.

  She has another round of words for me before she starts to calm down a little.

  “Why are you all covered in grease?” she asks. “You smell like oil and gasoline.”

  Trying not to roll my eyes, I calmly re-tell her how I was across the road, fixing my truck. I hadn’t left, only gone over to repair the truck and put some gas in it.

  The change in her is instant.

  “So, you didn’t leave me?”

  “No,” I say calmly. “I left the house, but only to fix my truck.”

  For the tenth time, Faith, I didn’t leave you!

  “Faith, what happened, tell me,” I ask her again in a more commanding tone.

  “It’s my Dad, he’s coming back. He said… The sheriff…”

  She starts to sob again, wringing her hands as she starts to pace.

  “Faith, you’re not making any sense, what the hell happened?” I demand from her, gripping her by the elbows, almost shouting at her now.

  “They’re coming for you… they’ll find you and they’ll take you away...” she says softly, her voice trailing off as her eyes move past me, staring blankly at the case in the lounge room.

  She looks alright, but I’m wondering if something happened, maybe she fell or has something wrong with her I don’t know about yet.

  Either way, we’ll get through it, Faith. I promise.

  Taking a different tactic, I move us both into the kitchen and sit her down, getting her a glass of water I sit opposite her, quiet for a while until I ask her slowly but firmly to tell me what she means.