"Hello. You've reached Sister Azira at the Centre. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message. God bless." Beep. A familiar voice rang out.
"Morning, Azira. I was hoping to catch you before you left your room. I need a favour. Call me back."
Azira groaned. Shadwell's favours usually involved her mentoring some juvenile delinquent. Normally she wouldn't mind, but she had too much on her plate already. Her eyes fell on the Jesus portrait in the corner. From His perch, He looked more disapproving of her than usual.
"Fine, I'll call him," she muttered. "Maybe I can help him find another place."
She plopped on her bed and dialled Shadwell's number.
His awkward secretary answered on the second ring. "Shadwell's office. How may I help you?"
"Hi, Newton. It's Azira. Is the boss in?"
"Sure thing, Sis– I mean, Azira. I'll transfer you over."
Azira grinned into the phone. It had taken the receptionist a while to figure out how to address her. Azira still wasn't sure whether nuns inspired a sense of reverence or discomfort in the man.
"Azira! How are ya?"
"Fine, Shadwell. I trust all is well with you?"
Her friend sighed dramatically on the other end of the line. "Is it now that you called. I need a big favour from you. You see I have –"
She cut him off before he could get too far. "About that. You know I'm always willing to help, but I don't have the time. Why don't you call Tracy across town? I'm sure she'd be happy to work with the child."
"It's not a kid."
Azira was momentarily nonplussed. "But I thought you only dealt with juveniles."
"We've had some staff cuts, so I get more to do. This is why I need your help." He sounded so tired, she felt herself melting.
"What did he do?" When there was no answer, she spoke again more sharply. "Shadwell?"
"Assault." He scrambled to explain before she could refuse. "The guy he assaulted hurt his mother. Beat her bad enough to put her in the hospital. That's why he's not in jail right now. The judge went really easy on him. Probation and community service."
Azira squeezed her eyes shut. "Dear Lord, OK, you win. What's he like?"
"His name is Anthony J. Crowley; he's twenty-two, from the old neighbour. No father, lives with the mother, Bee and grandmother, Ashtoreth." Shadwell hesitated. "He's got a rough exterior. I really think he can be helped… if he'll let anyone in."
"That's always the catch." She pursed her lips. "All right, when can I expect him? And how long will he be here?"
"The judge gave him a hundred hours. I'll bring him over first thing this morning."
"Sounds good. Take care of yourself, Shadwell."
"I'll try. 'Bye."
After hanging up, Azira locked her apartment door and headed down to the Centre. Sure enough, things were swinging into high gear. The staff bustled in, ready to get to work. Various women dropped their children off at the nursery school.
"Morning, Sister," several called as she descended the steps.
Azira waved back, smiling at the children. She made a mental note to stop in after lunch. By then, the attendants usually needed a break from the little angels.
Azira settled in her tiny office. She flicked on her computer, a gift from the local electronics shop. A few people had responded to her request for donations. She found an email from her sister; she'd deal with that later. Right now, she had more important things to arrange.
Azira had been engrossed in her work for about an hour when a knock interrupted her. She looked up to find Shadwell standing in the door. A strange man stood behind him. Azira assumed he was Anthony. For reasons she couldn't fathom, he was still wearing his sunglasses inside the building.
"Shadwell, come in," Azira stood up, extending her hand to the stranger. "You must be Anthony."
"Crowley." He nodded curtly, shaking her hand quickly. "What's up?"
Azira studied his face, searching for signs of his characters. He didn't give her much to go on. She supposed he would be handsome if he relaxed his mouth into a smile. Or at least less of a scowl. His light skin contrasted sharply with the black tee and the diamond studs in his ear.
"There's no sun in here."
He shot a quick look at Shadwell. "What's she talking about?"
Shadwell pointed to the glasses. "Take 'em off. Azira likes to look into your soul. He chuckled as Azira swatted him playfully.
Crowley sighed, and then pulled the shades from his face. Azira was struck by the intensity in his gaze. So many emotions swam around, vying for attention: anger, fear, distrust, could that be lust? He did have gorgeous amber eyes. Azira wasn't one to wax poetic, but they looked like golden pools, pulling her deeper into the abyss.
"Azira?"
She realised that Shadwell was talking to her. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" She resisted the urge to look back at Crowley; those eyes were hypnotic.
"He's all yours. I'll be in touch." He walked out of the office and clasped Crowley by the shoulder. "She's a good woman. She'll take good care of you."
You bet I will, Azira thought before flushing with shame, but she recovered quickly. She turned to her charge. "It's good to have you. Let me show you around."
Azira led Crowley out down the hall, suddenly very aware of her body movements. She realised that her hips were sashaying and her breasts bouncing more than normal. She wondered briefly if Crowley was watching her walk, but she shoved the thought guiltily from her mind.
"These are the offices." They left the narrow hall and entered the main space. "This is where most of the activity happens. It's still a work in progress. We're partitioned off the nursery, kitchen, and storage closet so we can renovate the rest. Mornings are usually pretty calm. At least until school lets out. "She smiled at him. "Any preferences?"
Crowley shrugged. "Wherever."
She thought for a moment. "How's your Spanish or French? We could use a tutor."
"Don't speak it."
Azira's cheeks were starting to hurt from holding the smile. "Can you cook?"
"Nah."
"No."
He looked at her. "Why you surprised? My mum and nanny did all the cooking."
"No, the word is no, not nah. By the way, helping verbs are your friends."
He stared at her. To Azira's surprised, a small smile spread across his face. "You sound like my mum. She used to teach English before I was born."
"You have cheekbones," Azira blurted out before she could stop herself. "I mean" – she pulled herself together – "she didn't go back to teaching?"
The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. "No."
Azira waited. When no explanation came, she decided to pry. "What does she do now?"
"Some clerical work. When she can get it. Are you gonna show me what I'm gonna be doing? I don't really care what it is."
Azira made a mental note to find out a little more about his background. "Well, I have a lot of little jobs that need doing." She pointed at the window. "See the lawn? Not through that window you can't. But if you could, you'd see it needs to be cut. The windows need washing. Badly. All the supplies are in the utilities closet and the shed out back. Most of what I'll have for you now will be cleaning or repairwork. Can you handle that?"
He nodded. "Where can I put my bag?"
"I'll keep it in my office, if you like."
He hesitated, and then handed it to her. "Oh, wait." He pulled out a small MP3 player and headphones. "See you later."
"Let me know if you anything," she called to his retreating back. Unlike guys his age, his jeans actually rested where they were supposed to and he definitely had a little junk in the trunk. Get a grip, woman. You have better things to do than ogle this guy's arse… I mean butt! Lord forgive me!
Despite Azira's best intentions to keep her mind focused and pure, she found herself making excuses to go past the window or take walks outside to watch Crowley cut the grass. On her second peek, she noticed he had shed his tee in favour of the vest underneath.
"That boy must be nearly dehydrated. It's only right that I bring him something to drink," she told her assistant, Anathema.
"Mmm-hmm." I'll go take it out."
Azira grabbed her arm before she could hurry off. "He doesn't need some hot-blooded woman panting after him. Besides, you have stuff to do. I'll take it." Mindlessly, she adjusted her hair in the window.
Anathema burst out laughing at her friend. "OK, Sister. But I don't think it's me he needs to look out for." With a wink, she strode off to her office.
Five minutes later, Azira went outside carrying a pitcher of ice-cold water and a glass. "Crowley!" she yelled to be heard over the lawnmower.
He turned and waved to her. She lifted the water and motioned him over. As he got closer, she could see that his shirt was soaked through with sweat. The thin material clung to his chest. Suddenly, she felt a heat spread through her body, one that she couldn't attribute to the warmth of the sun. It started somewhere so deep inside, Azira was hard-pressed to put her finger on it.
"I brought you some water," she heard someone giggle. To her horror, she realised that she had uttered the word like a silly schoolgirl.
"Thank you, Sister."
"Azira. No-one calls me Sister." She pointed to the tattoo on his arm. "What's that about?"
He shrugged. "That's past."
"You have nice muscles. You work out?"
"Yeah, sometimes." He gulped the water, and then poured another glass. "That hit the spot. Thanks."
"You're welcome. There's more when you need it. I don't want you getting dehydrated."
He nodded and walked back to the mower. Azira grabbed the pitcher and went back inside. This time, she didn't even fight the urge to sashay back to the building. She never turned around, but something told her that his eyes were on her the whole way.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Azira finally pushed Crowley and his toned biceps from her mind long enough to get her work done. He poked his head in at four to collect his things, but she was too absorbed in her duties to do more than wave.
Azira finally made it to her apartment after nine that night. Her eyes were heavy, but the heat had made her sticky with sweat. There was no way she could go without a shower.
She relaxed under the warm water, feeling the tension seep from her muscles. She reached for her special supply of aromatherapy bath gel. She used it only on days like today, when she felt particularly drained. The tightness was good. It meant that she was getting things accomplished, things that would affect her community positively.
She pulled on her bath gloves and lathered up. First her neck, then shoulders and breasts. She shivered as the coarse nylon slid across her nipples. She hesitated before drawing them back over them, playing with them until hardened. The heat had returned full-force, but this time she could identify the source of the intensity.
Azira hadn't masturbated in years. Ever since she had taken vows, she relied on sheer will and prayer to get her through the temptation. This time, she found her fingers sliding cautiously down her belly to the swatch of hair between her legs. The gloves proved to be too rough for her sensitive nub, so she tossed them aside.
"I don't even think I remember how to do this," she muttered.
The initial touch silenced her doubts and gave her the courage to press on. Her fingers worked her clit, rediscovering the joys she had long ago buried. She traced her lips lightly and made her way further back until she felt her fingers slip inside her pussy. She pressed one in carefully, and added a second more urgently, thrusting wildly.
When she was younger, she used to imagine she was with Gabriel, the boy who lived across the street. He had been the sexiest guy in Year 11. After secondary school, he had joined the Armed Forces, she couldn't remember which branch. Too shy to talk to him back then, she contented herself with imagining his penis buried deep inside her, while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
Years later, she knew a lot more about sex and her thoughts weren't so innocent. This time, it was Crowley's cock thrusting inside of her and his teeth grazing her nipple. His fingernails dug into her butt cheeks, the pain vying with the pleasure.
"Yes! Oh God, yes!" Azira cried into the water. She could feel the orgasm coming; it was so close. She moved quicker, trying to hurry it up. To her dismay, the more she tried to force it, the more the sensation slipped away. With it went her image of Crowley and his firm muscles.
"Agh!" she yelled in frustration. "Godda–" She broke off mid-shout. She had already broken one rule tonight. She didn't think God would be particularly forgiving about her taking His name in vain.
The next morning, Azira went downstairs earlier than usual. After the failed attempt in the shower, she spent a tormented night tossing in bed. When her alarm had gone off, she'd already been up and dressed.
It was too early for the staff to arrive, so Azira went outside to check the previous day's mail. She tripped over something on the doorstep and fell, scraping her elbows.
A pair of strong hands hauled her upright. "I am so sorry. I must have been asleep longer than I thought."
Azira rubbed her arms. She wasn't sure if she was more bothered by the fact that Crowley was sleeping in The Centre's doorway or that he had been her sprawled over the walkway. "What are you doing here?"
"I work here, remember?" He offered her a little smile. "You sure you're OK?"
"I'm fine. And I'm waiting for the real answer." Her voice got steely. "Now."
He sighed and looked away. "I can't live at home anymore. The council doesn't let you live there if you have a criminal record. I had to leave so my mum and my nanny wouldn't get kicked out."
Azira nodded. She wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort him in some way, but she knew he would just pull away. "That's a very noble thing you did."
He turned to face her. "How so? Now I'm just a homeless bum with a record."
"I remember this kid when I was younger who got out of prison and went back home. When they told him to leave, he refused and his whole family was kicked out. His grandmother, parents, siblings all forced out because he refused to leave and his mother wouldn't make him go." She stroked his arm gently. "You were being selfless."
"Well, now I have to find someplace to live and money to pay for it." He buried his face in his hands. "This sucks."
She plucked him. "Stop griping. We just need to figure out how to fix it."
He glanced at her incredulously. "You'd really help me? What do you care?"
"Yes. And because I do. Now come follow me before I change my mind. It's been a long night." She didn't bother mentioning that he was the cause of it.
She walked back upstairs, past her apartment to another door. "I live there and this is an empty apartment. A friend of mine used to live here, but she retired last year." She opened the door. "It's small, it hasn't been cleaned in ages, and the dust is lethal. But if you like it, it's yours. Until you get on your feet. It's got a kitchen and a bathroom." She stood aside. "See for yourself."
Crowley moved past her, taking in the apartment. "I can't take this. I have no way of paying you."
"I'm sure I'll find something for you to do." She winked at him. "Why don't you spend the morning getting settled in? You can get cleaning supplies from downstairs."
"Look, I want you to know." Crowley fidgeted in the doorway. "I really appreciate you doing this. Thank you."
Azira gazed back into his eyes. The raw emotion she saw melted something inside her. "You're welcome," she said simply, before walking downstairs.
Azira didn't give a chance to check on Crowley until after closing. She took her shower, and then knocked on his door.
He answered the door in boxers and a black vest. "What's up?"
Don't look at the thighs, don't look at the thighs. "Did you eat dinner?"
He nodded. My mum gave me some food. She sent over some dessert for me to give to you." He pulled the door further open. "You want?"
"Sure, thanks." Azira felt like a teenager, instead of the thirty-seven-year-old woman she was.
"Sit down. You want something to drink?"
She sat on the old couch. "Water, please. You did a good job in here. I need to hire you to clean my place."
"It's the least I can do." He handed her a plate and her water. "I hope you like red velvet cake."
"Love it."
They settled into a comfortable silence. Azira was enjoying the red, chocolate layer cake until she caught Crowley watching her. He looked amused. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm just glad you're enjoying it." His lips curved up in a smile.
"This is so good!" Azira waved her fork in the air. "I'm serious; your mother is a genius."
"I didn't think you'd enjoy it very much."
Azira stopped mid-bite. "Why not?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Aren't nuns all about denying themselves?"
Azira thought guiltily about her shower escapade. "That's not what it's about. It's about improving life for everyone through God."
He regarded her solemnly. "Is that why you became a nun?"
Azira nodded. "More or less."
"But what about everything you have to give up?"
"Such as?"
He thought. "Nice things. Marriage. Children. You don't want any of that? I'm not prying, am I?"
"I don't mind. OK, I have nice things. Not expensive things, but I think they're nice. I am married. To God. And my children are the people I help."
"And that's enough for you?" His eyes bored into her. She suddenly felt naked in front of him. And not the way she would have liked to be.
"Yes." She raised her chin a notch, as if to emphasize her point. "No muss, no fuss. Although, I might have liked to have a child of my own. But that's water under the bridge now."
"You still could."
She laughed. "Crowley, I'm thirty-seven. It's too are for me. I'm too old for that."
"Thirty-seven ain't old. Shoot, all you need is a man and you're in business.
"Right. And where am I supposed to find one that I want to share my life and my child with?" she challenged.
"You're a pretty lady. There are plenty of men who'd want to get to know you." He spoke softly, looking into her eye.
Azira looked back at him, and then wished she hadn't. It was like looking into a mirror. His eyes were cloudy with lust. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to give in to his unspoken invitation. Azira was floored; she'd thought the attraction was all in her head.
"I should go!" she blurted, mentally kicking herself for her juvenile reaction. "It's late. Thanks for the dessert."
"You're welcome." He stood up and stretched. Azira watched wordlessly, her brain greedily storing the image for later.
"I'll see myself out. Goodnight." She hurried to the door, but he followed her and pulled the door open.
"Goodnight, Azira." He looked at her with those eyes again.
It took all for Azira's willpower to walk back to her apartment. She didn't breathe until she got inside and bolted the door.
Uncomfortable with her reactions to Crowley, Azira spent the rest of the week avoiding him. Any conversations were held with plenty of people around. In an effort to get her mind right, she went to confession. She was too embarrassed to visit Father Sandalphon, so she went to a church in the next town.
By the weekend, Azira felt ready to pop. Since fervent prayers hadn't worked their usual magic, she was at a loss. One more time. Then I'll quit. No more masturbation. She removed the scowling Saviour from the wall and placed Him carefully in her desk drawer.
A few years before, at her sister's hen party, each guest got a bag of goodies. Azira had stashed the bag under her bed without another thought. But if she remembered correctly, one of the favours had been –
"Got it!" Azira held the vibrator up to the light. "If this doesn't work…" she shook her head, hoping for the best and trying to forget she was a nun. What was it about that boy that made her want to throw sixteen years of devotion to God out of the window?
Two AA batteries later, Azira was stretched out on her bed, panting. One hand grasped the headboard while Crowley's tongue lapped at her pussy. Having learned her lesion, Azira kept the toy vibrating on a low level even though she craved the stronger sensations. She drew it around her clit, enjoying the attention Crowley was paying to her. She pictured his firm and well-defined thighs and his snug boxers and increased the intensity. Oral sex deserves reciprocation. I'll have to return the favour.
She peeled her hand from the headboard and slid her finger over her tongue. Her mouth accepted his dick eagerly. She loved the taste of him; it was so… earthy, so manly. Her tongue raced over the damp flesh, trying to memorise the bumpy ridges and smooth skin.
The combination proved to be too much for her. She felt the blessed shivers start in her core and radiate outward. She tried to cover her mouth, but her moans escaped into the air. Sated, Azira tossed the toy aside and curled up on top of her sheets.
A knock sounded at the door. Crowley. She shot up, pulling her pyjama top down and buttoning it up. "Just a moment."
She pulled on her bottoms and robe before opening the door a crack "Something wrong?"
He leaned against the door frame. "I heard some noises. For a minute, I thought it was… but you're a nun, so that's out. So I figured something was wrong."
He gazed at her with such concern, Azira was sure she was going straight to Hell. "I, um, just had a bad dream. I'm sorry to have woken you."
"I wasn't sleeping." His voice had taken on a deeper, more guttural tone. "I couldn't sleep." His hand reached out and hesitantly stroked her cheek.
Something inside Azira broke. She grabbed his shirt and hauled him inside. His arms circled her waist, pulling her toward him. It had been a while since Azira had kissed anyone other than family and friends, but she found her rhythm quickly. She drew back slightly, drawing her tongue along his bottom lip. It used to drive men wild when she was younger, and she was pleased to see it had the same effect on Crowley.
"I shouldn't be doing this. Especially not with you." She tilted her head to the side to give him better access to her neck. "This is so wrong."
Crowley paused briefly. "We can stop if you want."
She pulled him back. "No."
Crowley unbuttoned her top, peeling it off of her body. He cradled her breasts in his hands, drawing his thumb across her nipples. "You are so sexy. I thought so the first time I saw you walk." He took one in his mouth, biting it gently.
Azira groaned. In another minute, her knees would be too weak to support her. "Bed," she croaked.
She lay on the bed and he loomed over her, exploring her body with his mouth. He ran his fingers over her stomach, coming dangerously close to her cunt. "Be right back."
She waited anxiously while he tinkered around in the kitchen. He came back a moment later with a glass, which he placed on the table. "The day you brought me water, all I could think about was running ice all over you." He took a piece from the cup and put words into action.
Azira shivered. The ice was so cold it nearly burned her skin. Neck, breasts, belly, thighs, nothing was spared.
The ice found her clit and she jumped from the shock. His mouth replaced it a moment later. He alternated the ice and his warm tongue until she was shouting and shaking from the orgasm.
He kissed her mouth. She could feel his cock pressing against her pussy, begging for entrance. "You done this before?"
"A long time ago." She glared and poked his shoulder. "Be gentle!"
He chuckled. "Don't worry. You're in good hands."
Crowley kissed her again. Azira deepened the kiss, getting lost in his mouth until she felt a sharp pain. "Stop."
Crowley stilled immediately. "It's OK, angel. I'll get it in and then it'll be all over."
She nodded, burying her head in his shoulder. Either Crowley was enormous or her vagina had generated a new hymen. The pain mounted, but he took it slowly, taking the cue from her reactions.
She snuck a look at his face. "You OK?"
"You feel so good." He kissed her neck. "I want to make you feel good." He smiled at her. "There. It's all in."
Azira lay beneath him, getting accustomed to his penis inside her. "Move a little."
He withdrew, but stopped when she winced. "No, keep going."
He started moving inside her, slowly at first. Azira could tell he was straining to stay in control of himself. "Thank you for your patience," she murmured.
He started thrusting faster. Somewhere along the way, the pain dulled. Azira realised she actually felt good. No orgasm loomed on the horizon, but the sensations were bearable.
Crowley pulled her legs around his waist, digging deeper into her. His breath got more rugged and shallow. She reached around and gripped his back as he shuddered and shot his cum inside her.
It wasn't until they were drifting off to sleep that she realised neither of them had remembered to use a condom.
Azira was worried that everyone would know what she had done. Fortunately, Crowley's work kept them separated the entire day. If people knew, no-one made any comments. However, Anathema did say that she was smiling more than usual.
"Just blessed to be alive," Azira replied.
Azira didn't even bother trying to convince herself and God that she'd never do it again. She knew exactly where she planned to spend the night. As planned, midnight found her draped across her lover's body, taking his penis into her mouth.
"This thing gets bigger every time I see it."
He grinned, running his fingers through her hair. "See if you can take it a little deeper. There, that's it." He closed his eyes and settled back. "I'll try to warn you before I come."
Azira's jaw was starting to hurt. His penis filled her mouth, leaving little room to manoeuvre her tongue. Still, she could taste him and it was just as she had imagined. Luckily for him, she was in a good frame of mind. He didn't warn until it was too late.
Their days settled into a routine, although the sex was anything but. She and Crowley explored her office, the kitchen, and even the nursery. After hours, the Centre seemed like one big bed.
And while Azira knew that it would all come to an end, she wasn't prepared for the cessation of her period. Initially, she told herself it was just late, but after two weeks, she had to face the facts. A home test confirmed her worst suspicion. She was pregnant with Crowley's child.
Her choice was clear. She had to give up either her baby or her work. She couldn't have both. Azira walked aimlessly around the Centre. The whole building held special memories. Every weekend, they fed the homeless. The nursery was up and thriving. Could she possibly leave everything behind? There was so much work to do. But how could she stay, knowing she'd be living a lie?
She heard footsteps behind her, but she didn't turn around. She could sense Crowley's presence a mile away. Crowley! She hadn't even thought about him yet. For the millionth time that day. Azira started to mentally kick herself for her stupidity.
"You never showed me this." He waved her toy in front of her face. "We could have some fun with it. It'd be a good way to celebrate my new job."
He bent to kiss her, but she pulled away. Tears threatened to fall at any moment, but she didn't want to see her cry.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He walked around until they were face-to-face. "Azira, angel, talk to me."
The concern in his gaze touched her. In that moment, she knew what she had to do. Crowley needed a helping hand, not an ex-nun wife and baby. She took his face in her hands and kissed him as tenderly as she dared. "Nothing I'm fine." She put on her best smile. "Now, come tell me about this new job."