Why was he getting aroused by this?
Adam groaned and pressed his face into the pillow. A sharp knocking made him sit up. Mrs. Janina entered in her customary set of headscarf and housedress the moment he invited her in.
“You overslept. Have you been to the same party as the pastor?” She asked, and the frown marring her forehead told Adam Father Marek’s conduct impressed her just as little as Adam’s.
“No. But I think… I have a migraine,” Adam lied before settling his head back on the pillow. Nothing could lure him outside today. He wished he could bury himself deep in the forest, where no one would ever find him alive.
Mrs. Janina frowned. “There is no time for this. The church has been desecrated, it’s a travesty. The door’s been opened, the statue ruined, and the perpetrators have left behind a weapon. What if it’s a threat, Father?”
Adam’s heart thudded against his ribcage. “A weapon?”
The housekeeper crossed her arms and looked around as if she were searching for something to criticize. Fortunately, Adam had always been a tidy man. “Yes. A whip. Pastor Marek told me to call the police.”
The bed attempted to swallow Adam, and he didn’t want to resist its pull. If Mrs. Janina knew the extent of his involvement in the desecration, she’d have whipped him herself.
Now, he would lose one more shield against sin, because he couldn’t admit that the scourge belonged to him.
“Then we better stay here. Keep the crime scene untouched.”
Mrs. Janina eyed him, as if she could see right through his laziness, but she nodded in the end. “True, I’ve seen that kind of thing on crime shows. I will indulge you in a late breakfast, Father, but I wouldn’t like these migraines to turn into a habit.”
As if he could control a migraine. If he actually had one.
She looked at the window. “Fresh air should help with your headache. Come over when you’re ready.”
Oh, how merciful she was.
Adam only relaxed when the door closed.
He wasn’t hungry anyway. Who would have been after having another man hammer his cock inside them?
He’d showered twice last night, but it hadn’t stripped his skin of Emil’s scent. The rotten part of him whispered that he should be thankful that he got to experience sex at least this once, regardless of the circumstances.
Because he had wanted it. Emil had kissed him in dreams that made Adam sweat and his cock swell, and as much as he detested it, the demon had given him exactly what he desired and in its twisted way, satisfied a craving Adam had been struggling with all his life.
But there was another possibility, one that frightened Adam even more. Mental illnesses often ran in the family, and while his mother had never been diagnosed, some of her paranoid behaviors skirted the edge of pathology. If there had been no supernatural intrusion, then he was losing his grip on reality.
The little boy inside him longed to talk to someone more experienced, but Father Marek was an older man, set in his ways and, like Adam used to, didn’t believe supernatural powers affected people’s lives in dramatic ways. And a man of his generation might be wary of living under the same roof as someone who suffered from delusions. Pope Francis himself said he did not want mentally unstable young men to take on the priesthood. If anyone found out, Adam’s career in the Church, the one way he could serve the Lord, would be over.
He glanced at the pilled black sweater he’d neatly folded on the chair. Even though it smelled of washing powder, it still carried a faint aroma of Emil. A bit of nicotine, fresh wood, and a dark cologne Adam had breathed in as Emil’s cock pulsed inside him.
Despite the bitterness of last night, Emil had believed Adam. But now that they were apart, Adam was freaking out, because he couldn’t check whether his hands had really left burns on Emil’s flesh.
He lay still for endless minutes, gaze settled on the black sweater, but he could avoid Mrs. Janina for only so long and left his room, keeping his guard up as high as possible. The scent of tea was the first good thing that happened to him since last night, but he stopped in front of the kitchen, feeling awkward about breaking up Mrs. Janina’s phone conversation. She was talking to someone about being unable to lend them money. Hardly a topic she’d like to share with him, but he chose not to make the same mistake he had on the first day of his stay in Dybukowo and stepped inside, intent on going straight to the dining room. But halfway through the kitchen, he looked out of the window and spotted a tall figure in black.
Emil was hitching Jinx to the gate at the front of the church.