Worth Any Price

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  She was crying again. Only this time, so was he.

  Without saying a word, she walked into the kitchen, found some furniture polish under the sink, and grabbed a few paper towels. She was polishing the table when he forced himself to look over at her.

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll take care of it,” he bit out.

  “No. You’ve done enough. I’ll put this room back to rights, then clean up your study. After you’ve sent the pictures over the e-mail, I want to go home.”

  “No,” he whispered harshly. “There’s no sense in that. Stay here. We have to leave by three to get over to the beach for the next part.”

  “I need to shower.”

  “I have a shower,” he barked.

  “I have to go home!” she screamed.

  And he knew why. She couldn’t be around him right now. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand for him to look at her.

  He insisted on following her to her apartment and walking through it before agreeing to pick her up at three in the morning. He let himself out while she was checking her phone messages. He didn’t know what to say to her. What did one say to a woman who was a stranger, yet not. Soon to be a lover, yet not. He blinked his eyes and shook his head as he closed the door behind him. He had to remember first and foremost that he was her pastor. He was supposed to be her spiritual helm through this nightmare.

  He drove back to his townhouse with visions of her swimming in front of his face. Visions of her crying and wiping her tears on the sleeve of his robe, visions of her laughing while drinking brandy and admiring his taste in art, visions of her exposed, her flesh as white as porcelain, her nipples dusky and pert. An image of her posing for the final degrading picture flashed in front of his eyes and he moaned. God, forgive him, but he wanted to touch her with his lips where the camera lens had been centered. She had been moist and dewy, opening like a flower, and he had wanted to put his face between her thighs and caress her with his tongue in the worst way.

  That in itself was an amazing shock to him. He’d performed the gratuitous deed before on several occasions, but he’d never wanted to. The idea of delving into that particular arena had never been his. He had never initiated that type of overture and was never truly into lapping a woman’s nether lips to appease her passion.

  But now, now he was biting his lips to keep from moaning at the thought of his lips and his tongue nestling there and foraging into her center.

  At the next red light, he closed his eyes and rolled his head in a circle as he stretched his neck and tried to work out the tension he was feeling. He dropped his head to his chest and moved his head from side to side, then he reached up and with his thumb and forefinger, stroked the bridge of his nose. How the hell was he ever going to get through the next twenty-four hours? How was she? And was what he was doing, the right thing to be doing? He had an obligation to his church, to his parishioners. This surely wouldn’t sit right with them. Where should he be drawing the line at helping one of the flock? A horn sounded behind him and he jerked his head up. As he made his way through the intersection a thought occurred to him, like a divine inspiration, and as it grew inside his head, he smiled. He’d just figured out how Paige could follow the third missive to the letter, and how he could use his God-given gift of oratory and persuasion to protect her innocence. All while keeping his congregation blameless and in the dark about her dire predicament.

  Now, all he had to do was figure out how he could be a man of God, a man devoted to his calling, while kneeling in the sand with his cock in Paige’s mouth. The thought sent carnal thrills through him at the same time his mind reeled from the ramifications for them both. She’d never be able to face him again, she almost wasn’t able to now. And he, he couldn’t stand at the pulpit looking down at her in one of the pews and forget what she’d been forced to do. As a man, he was enthralled by her and not just a tiny bit excited by the prospect of her mouth being wrapped around his member. As a man of the cloth, he faced doubts about his ability to maintain control of his emotions, and guilt about the sin they would be committing. It would be a twofold sin for him: premarital sex, and spilling his seed, as biblically phrased, “upon the ground.” For her, it was prostituting herself— giving up sexual favors for personal gain. The reason they had to do this vile thing, the purpose they had for committing such a grievous sin, didn’t whitewash the act. He knew this. Just as one right didn’t justify a wrong, one wrong certainly didn’t justify another wrong. This monster’s sin was his to bear, and his alone. But they were compounding it, accepting it, and making it their own by going along with it. They were all sinning. He understood that. He only hoped God would forgive it. But for the life of him he didn’t see how it would be granted, knowing up front that he’d be asking for forgiveness going into the deed, yet still going along with it anyway. It was selfish he knew, but the man in him, the part of him that was now making his dick hard as pig-iron, didn’t care how humbled Paige would be, how uncomfortable she would be with him in her mouth. He wanted desperately to feel her lips around him and to revel in the sensations her tongue would create as she brought him to climax and swallowed his seed.

  The dichotomy of who he was, and the inner war he was having with himself as a human versus the God-fearing disciple of Christ, was wearing him out. The dilemma of what to do, how not to enjoy it so much, how to be supportive, but not encouraging, was dragging him down and by the time he pulled back into his townhouse, he realized he needed a nap, too. Maybe if he prayed and gave God His hand in all this, it would somehow all work out. He went into his house, set his alarm clock, and fell exhausted onto his bed. The Lord works in mysterious ways. This is His plan. He’s got His hand in this. All things work for His glory and for the good of His people. I will not leave you. I am with you always.

  He awoke without benefit of the alarm just two hours later. He was remarkably refreshed in body, but his mind still churned with thoughts of wrongdoing. He always sinned, who didn’t? But after, he was truly sorry and repented passionately. After the affair he’d had, he’d gotten down on his knees every morning and begged forgiveness from his Holy Father. But the affair had irrevocably changed things. He had an eye for the ladies, always had, but now, he knew he didn’t control it as well as he had thought. It was his Achilles heel, the admiration of soft curves under a sweatshirt, smooth lines under a tight skirt, legs that went on forever . . . . As a pastor, he could easily fall in love and marry, in fact as far as the church was concerned, it was preferable. But he couldn’t, shouldn’t, be thinking these types of thoughts . . . about Paige.

  But he was. He was damned interested in a woman again. That woman. The woman who had come to him for help. Shit!

  For as long as he could remember, sin had always overcome him. He had never gone looking for it, had never planned for it, but somehow temptation always found him. Now it seemed his mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of not having Paige in the most carnal way.

  As he stripped his clothes off preparing to shower, his mind reverted to the instructions he and Paige were to follow when they arrived at the beach.

  Bring a man to Wrightsville Beach Saturday at 6:00 A.M. Use the access closest to the pier. Find an orange marker staked at the dune line on the northern side, attached will be a string. Walk it down to the water and where the string ends, go down on him. Have him face northeast. Surprise! You’ll be in the path of the Weather Cam. I know you don’t know any men locally, so whomever you manage to find will certainly be a stranger. Let’s make this fun. As I know you’re quite shy, kiss him first to break the ice before you suck him dry and swallow his cum.

  He knew a little bit about the weather cam. It was mounted to provide a view of the beach and the pier. The news shows tapped into it to let the setting say in a picture what it would take hundreds of words to say. He’d seen scenes before and during hurricanes capt
ured and relayed, beautiful sunsets and foggy sunrises. But he never really remembered seeing many people in the shots. He knew the news stations wouldn’t be broadcasting what he and Paige would be doing against the backdrop of a sunrise. They had many fail safes in place for this type of thing, but he also knew that the cam was live all the time on the website and that the people who would be awake and tuned in early this morning would get to see a sight they wouldn’t soon forget.

  The thought had him almost dropping to his knees. He could envision her kneeling at his feet, and while his body reveled and rose to the call, his mind sickened with the sudden flash of fear and humiliation he saw on her lovely face.

  This was not how people were supposed to get to know each other, he said to himself as he stepped into the shower. There was an order to things if you were attracted to a person. He was now very attracted to Paige, but this heinous man had moved the timetable up to an intolerable speed. After this was all over, would they be able to salvage anything? Would she ever want to see him again or would she just take her son and run away from these horrible memories?

  As he washed his body, paying careful attention to his privates, a strange thought occurred to him and he gave a loud hoot of laughter that echoed off the steaming tiles. What would his mother have to say about all this if she ever found out? A scenario played out in his head of a society friend confronting her with the news.

  “Meredith, it was awful. He was right there on the screen, stroking her hair while she was, well, she was . . . down there.”

  “I don’t believe you. Surely it was someone else, not my son.”

  “Meredith, it was Cayce, I recognized him immediately. He’s rather well-endowed, unusually so, if I might add.”

  Meredith groaned and knew the woman had indeed seen Cayce.

  “Family trait, I’m afraid.”

  Cayce grinned as he cupped his swaying sacs. He was rather large in all aspects, but in one, remarkably so. His balls were huge. A woman couldn’t cup them in one hand. They hung full and heavy, quite obviously an anomaly and an inherited genetic “enhancement” as his father used to say. So much so, that he had to wear jockey boxers snug against his body to hold his parts high against his groin so he could walk and sit comfortably. And when he was aroused, they became even heavier, and while they lost some of the wrinkling from being distended, the stretched skin purpled as his sacs threatened to burst. Some women were fascinated by his size; a few had been more than intimidated. Paige, he was sure was going to wish she had opted for another man.

  He exited the shower, shaved, and then knelt to pray for Joshua and then for both himself and Paige. When he was dressed he walked into the dining room and stared at the camera that was still set up, aimed at the end of the table. He blinked his eyes hard to ward off the tears he felt coming, picked it up by the tripod base, and carried it into his study. Images of Paige surrounded him as he tidied up and put things to right. Then suddenly overcome, he collapsed to the leather love seat and cried.

  Why had God allowed something like this to happen to someone like Paige? Why hadn’t He stopped this man? Why? He knew he sounded like one of his parishioners, wondering why they hadn’t been spared some of life’s hard lessons. And instantly he knew that his Lord wasn’t finished with him in this. This wouldn’t end badly. It couldn’t. He would do what he had to and then, if there was anything that could be salvaged, he would make every effort to do so. Whether it was his career, his reputation, or his relationship with Paige. God just didn’t allow these things to happen for no reason. Hard as this was now, especially for her, He would make it up to them. Suddenly Cayce just knew it. Knew it more than he knew his name. His God worked for good. He had to remember that.

  He went back into his bathroom, washed his face and brushed his teeth, then grabbed his car keys and a can of soda from the refrigerator.

  All the way back to Paige’s he prayed and asked God to use him as He willed and he begged Him to try to make things easier for her.

  Paige was waiting when he knocked on her door. It was the eerie time of night when there was hardly any traffic, hardly any noise and very little light.

  “Ready?” he asked simply.

  She nodded and pushed the button in on the back of the doorknob, then shut the door behind her. She had only taken two steps when she thought better about locking the door and used her key to unlock it. She wasn’t going to bar the way for this madman; he was more than welcome to come through her front door if he was bringing Joshua back to her.

  Cayce took her by the elbow and walked her to his car. They didn’t speak at all the whole time they were driving through the city. Each was lost in their own thoughts. Hers about Joshua. His about her and how lovely she looked. Twice he had focused on her lips and felt a jolt to his groin.

  It was monstrous that he was looking forward to their opening act and the kiss before her ministrations. And somehow he knew she would be delicate, perhaps too delicate. Suddenly it occurred to him that he could have a problem with this. Up until now, the idea hadn’t crossed his mind that he wouldn’t be able to perform. Now he was scared to death that that just might happen.

  Crossing the bridge to the ocean, he broached the topic. “Uh, Paige. Have you, uh, ever done this before?”

  “What? Gone down on a man?”

  “Well yeah, that’s what I’m referring to all right.”

  “Yes. My husband tended to enjoy it.”

  “Most men do,” he said with a sideways smile, trying to make light of the situation.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I, uh . . . . Well, I uh, might require a firmer hand than you’re used to using.”

  “You mean I may need to use my hand as well as my mouth?”

  Liquid fire shot through him at her blunt words.

  “Well, yes, maybe. I don’t know. But I don’t think we want to prolong this any longer than we have to. I might suggest using your tongue as well as your lips at the tip.”

  She turned her head and looked over at him with dull eyes. “Anything else?”

  “Um, my sacs, they’re quite sensitive. Whatever you can do in that area will certainly help. And, uh, don’t be surprised by the uh, size. It’s not something to worry about.”

  She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. The man was letting her know he wasn’t abundant. Poor guy, now lots of people would know. She hadn’t thought about this much from his point of view. He was actually being pretty wonderful about all this. She reached over and took his hand from the wheel and squeezed it. “We’re going to be fine. It’s what you do with it remember?” she said with a tiny smile and he instantly knew she had taken things the wrong way.

  “No, I mean . . . .”

  “It’s okay.” She squeezed his hand again. “It’s easier to do this when it’s smaller. My husband was adequate; at times like this, I was often thankful he wasn’t larger.”

  He started to say something again, but clamped his lips shut. She’d find out soon enough. He really didn’t want to talk about this anymore. And he certainly didn’t want to be compared to her dead husband in this way.

  They drove down the quiet road in front of the beach. Then he parked, leaned over, and kissed her cheek and asked if she was ready.

  “Yes. I am. I want my boy back.”

  He helped her out of the car and together they walked across the street to the beach access and then down to the sand.

  The lights of the pier greeted them as they came over the rise of the beach access and now, as they neared the pier, they could see the faint glow of the sun attempting to rise.

  Cayce took out the note, read over the instructions again, then began looking for the orange marker. Once he spotted it, he walked over and bent down to bring up a sand-encrusted string. Pulling it up, he walked backwa
rd with it to the prescribed spot. Then he faced the direction the note specified. He didn’t know exactly where the camera was mounted, but he knew without a doubt that it was capturing his every movement.

  “Show time,” he muttered as he dropped the string and motioned for Paige to come toward him.

  “Is it time?” she asked, a bit of panic appearing in her eyes.

  He pulled up his sleeve and looked down at his watch and said, “Yes, honey. It’s time. And before we go any further, let me just say that I’m so sorry you have to do this. I really will try to make it as easy on you as I can.”

  She simply nodded with resignation in her eyes, her beautiful sad eyes.

  He took her in his arms then and whispered, “You have to kiss me now.”

  Her hands went to his shoulders. He was wearing a thick fleece jacket and her hands fisted in the material as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

  He took the lips she offered and softened them with his own as he forced her to linger and live for this kiss. Even if they had others, it would be the one they would both always remember and he wanted it to work.

  His hands came up to cup her cheeks as she drew him down and he hungrily took all she was offering. Their tongues mated, hers tentative, his demanding and possessive. Then she broke away, buried her face in his chest, and heaved out one heart-wrenching sob before sliding down his chest to his waist. Her slide down the length of his body ended with her on her knees, her hands on his belt.

  He looked to the rising sun to be assured of their positioning while she worked at undoing his belt and zipper. When his pants fell to his thighs she saw that he hadn’t bothered with underwear. She also saw what he had been alluding to earlier and she felt herself blush.