Emily and the Priest

S
elena Kitt’s *Power Play*—where those uber-hot alpha authority figures take full advantage of their status to strike up all sorts of sexy naughtiness with their subordinates!

Her first year away from home at Catholic college has been a disaster for shy, awkward Emily, falling in with the wrong crowd, just trying to fit in with the other girls. When Father Mark, the campus psychologist, takes her under his wing, she’s more than grateful, and under his tutelage, Emily blossoms into ripe, luscious fruit, just ready to be plucked. By the time Father Mark realizes his mistake, it’s too late—Emily has fallen for him, and he for her. God help them both.

Selena Kitt Single

Short Story—Big Bang!

(approx 13,000 words)

Warning: This title contains hot, steamy nobody-writes-it-like-Selena-Kitt sex between alpha authority figures and their subordinates!

Whenever it was Father Mark’s day in
the
confessional, the line of girls stretched
around the corner and into the
vestibule.
Most of them would wait all day to see him if they had to, and Emily thought it was amusing that Father Mark probably didn’t
know
he was the one many of the girls were talking about when they confessed to “lustful thoughts.”

Emily
knew she
just as guilty,
and she would
have to
admit
her thoughts in the confessional
on Saturday
, but
she
unable to stop herself,
even when he was wearing his cassock
and collar
.
Emily
wondered if
Jenny
, her disgruntled roommate sitting
rigidly
be
side
her
, was having the same problem.
The two of them sat across from Eve and
Alexis
, Father Mark closing their semi-circle
.
Alexis
was crying, and she wouldn’t look at anyone, even her
own
roommate, Eve, sitting
on her right
.

“
Sometimes
things that cause us
heartbreak at first are
really
blessings in disguise.” Father Mark handed
Alexis
a Kleenex and looked at Emily. She felt her heart lurch in her chest wh
en she met his dark green eyes and he smiled at her bemused look. “How are you feeling about all of this
, Emily
?”

“Oh… uh…”
She
stammered,
looking around at the girls’ faces, now all focused on her. “To tell you
the truth? I don’t mind so much
.” She glanced over a
t the blonde sitting beside her, the girl who had made fun of
her since the beginning of the year, from the very first day Emily had put her “unfashionable” bedspread on her bed, the one her grandmother had crocheted. From the start, Emily had been judged and labeled too awkward and a little too chubby to keep up with her tall, athletic roommate.

She couldn’t prove it, of course, but she suspected that it was her roommate who had been
pestering
her since the beginning of the year
, resetting her alarm clock so she was late for classes, gluing her bottle of shampoo closed, putting baby powder in her blow
dryer, and replacing her toothpaste with O
rajel. Her mouth had been
numb all morning from that little stunt. The truth was, the news that
Jenny
wanted a new roommate hadn’t been a shock—it had been a welcome surprise.

“See,
Alexis
,” Eve piped up. She was a leggy blonde as well—she and
Jenny
could have been born twins—and she liked to show it off, her uniform skirts always looking far shorter on her long, slender legs, especially when she crossed them, like she was doing now. “Emily doesn’t mind. I don’t see what you’re crying about.”

Emily spoke
up, talking
to
Alexis
, but she looked directly at Eve. “Just because someone doesn’t want to hang out with you, doesn’t make you a bad person. I think it says more about them than it does about you, to be honest.”

“Eve a
nd I just get along better, that’s all.
”
Jenny
snorted and rolled her eyes as
Alexis
burst into new sobs, covering her face with her hands. “We have way more in common, you know? We’re just
more the same type of girl. It’s that simple
.”

“Yes, you are.” Emily agreed, and
Eve sighed, shaking her head and
making a face
at
Jenny
. Father Mark caught the look, frowning, but didn’t say anything. Emily traced the li
nes on her plaid uniform skirt. “I think you guys would make perfect roommates.”

“That’s very generous of you, Emily.” Father Mark reached for another Kleenex and handed it to
Alexis
, who hid her ruddy cheeks and nose behind it. They were almost as red as her frizzy
,
crimson
hair.
“And it’s okay to be sad about it,
Alexis
. Change can be difficult.”

“Honestly, I think…” Emily took a deep breath and just said it. “I think it could be fun.”

“Fun?”
Alexis
looked up from her tissue,
surprised.
“Rejection is fun for you?”

“Well, no.”
Emily
wasn’t about to tell her how used to rejection she’d become since starting her freshman year
of college
.
“But why would I hang around where I’m not wanted? And from what I know of you,
I think you’re pret
ty awesome. I’d be
happy to be your roommate.”

“Really?”
Alexis
sniffed, pushing a frizzy mass of
auburn
hair out of her eyes.
She offered Emily a tentative smile.

“Yeah, really.” Emily smiled back,
and she knew in that moment
that they were going to be roommates.

It took another twenty minutes of talking and “processing” for
Alexis
to come to the same conclusion, but in the end, that’s exactly what they decided. In fact,
Jenny
and Eve left looking kind of let down and confused by the way Emily and
Alexis
smiled and talked about moving all of Emily’s stuff into
Alexis
’s r
oom. Eve
would be moving into
the room Emily had
miserably
shared with
Jenny
since the beginning of the year.

“Oh,
Emily
, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Father Mark touched her shou
lder and she looked back at him, her heart instantly threatening to stop.
Jenny
and Eve exchanged looks, whispering together as they took off down the hall.

Emily waved a reluctant
Alexis
on
, back toward the dorms
. “I’ll meet you at your room
!”

“
Our
room,”
Alexis
corrected her loudly,
clear
ly for
Jenny
and Eve’s benefit. They were still whispering at the end of the hallway.
Alexis
had obviously caught on to the fact that, while the two blondes wanted to live together, they
evident
ly didn’t want their rejected roommates to feel happy about it.

“Have a seat.” Father Mark
closed the door of his office behind him, nodding
a
t the chair Emily had just vacated.

“Am I in trouble?”
She sank slowly down, looking at him
across his desk with
big eyes
as he settled into his chair
.

He smiled, shaking his head, and Emily visibly relaxed.
“No, I just wanted to catch up.”

She and Father Mark had semi-weekly talks.
She’d
started going to him after the pranks began—he was the school psychologist—but she’d refused to tell him her suspicions about
Jenny
being the culprit, and their conversations had eventually turned to other things. She enjoyed them immensely, and she had a feeling he did too.

“
But
I did want to tell you that your mother called
me.
Again.
”

“What now?” She sighed. Her mother had
come to him with one concern after
another all year long, even though Emily had stopped telling her about all the mean tricks the girls had continued to pull.
Emily suspected her mother just liked chatting up Father Mark. Not that she could blame her.

“She’
s just concerned about you.
”
He leaned forward, looking concerned
himself
.
“I know what it’s like to have an overbearing parent, trust me.”

“Your mom too?”

“My dad.” He leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on
his desk
. It had been strange at first, seeing him so casual in his cassock and collar, but she was used to it now. “Some day yo
u’ll look back and realize
your mom just loves you and wants the best for you.”

“So you and your dad get along now?”

Father Mark hesitated. “Unfortunately, I haven’t talked to him in years.”

“Well, gee, Father, that was some pep talk.” Emily snorted laughter.

He shrugged. “We had a falling out. We’re both very stubborn people.”

“But he’s your dad!” she protested. “Whatever it was, you should call him. Talk to him. Even if my mom is a pest, I can’t imagine cutting her out of my life.”

“It was the other way around.”

“Oh.”

He smiled and dropped her a wink. “But see, now you feel better about your mother don’t you?”

She did. “Sneaky.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

He laughed.
“
So… be honest.
Have there been any more incidents?”

Of course, she lied.
“No.”

She wasn’t
about to tell him about last week’s prank—someone had put her name and n
umber on the bathroom wall at St. Luke’s
offering free blowjobs to all interested parties, apparently, because her cell phone hadn’t stopped ringing since, asking for service. She’d let the battery die and hadn’t recharged it, realizing at that moment that she’d probably missed her mother’s weekly calls.
But she wasn’t going to tell her, or Father Mark, anymore.
She’d learned to keep her mouth closed
, because no one could do anything about it
.
Telling people—f
r
om the
ir dorm mother, Sister Francine, to Father Mark, who told her he’d talked about it with Bishop Avery, who ran the school—
hadn’t stopped the pranks. In fact, they’d gotten worse. So she had just decided to i
gnore them as much as she could and hope it would go away.

“I have a feeling, now that you’re switching roommates, that there won’t be any more
issues
.”
He gave her a pointed look and she flushed. She wouldn’t confess her suspicions about her roommate, but he seemed to know anyway.

“Maybe.”
Emily shared the same hope, and although she hadn’t been the one who initiated the roommate change, she was grateful.
Sh
e and
Alexis
had a
world religions
class
together and although they didn’t sit next to e
ach other, they got along well enough.
Maybe she was finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.

“How are you doing otherwise? How are classes?”

“Good. I’m loving my art classes, as usual.”
She smiled at his interest. Father Mark was always so kind.
She had wanted to go to the College for Creative Studies, and had been accepted,
but her mother decided that a c
atholic college would be better for her
than art school
. Emily hadn’t had much of a choice, since her mother was paying for it all. “
Thanks for loaning me that
book
on catholic s
aints
, by the way
.
It was just what I was looking for
.”

“
So are you going to tell me which saint you were researching?”
He
tented his fingers and looked
at her. Sometimes when he looked at her, she felt almost naked, like he was seeing not just through her clothes, but fully into her somehow.

“Oh, it wasn’t for
a
class.
” She flushed.
“
It was just for me.”

He cocked his head at her.
“Which one called to you?”

“Saint Lucy.”
There was no point not telling him. She knew he’d get it out of her eventually. He had a way of making her want to confess things, even when she wasn’t in the confessional. He nodded, just waiting,
somehow
knowing she was going to continue
, and she did.
“She’s the patron saint of the blind.
I had a dream I
was going blind.”