Faithful Daddy Next Door: A Dominant Protector Romance Read online




  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Faithful Daddy Next Door

  Chapter 1: Grace

  Chapter 2: Ryan

  Chapter 3: Grace

  Chapter 4: Ryan

  Chapter 5: Grace

  Chapter 6: Ryan

  Chapter 7: Grace

  Chapter 8: Ryan

  Chapter 9: Grace

  Chapter 10: Grace

  Thanks For Reading!

  About the Author

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Faithful Daddy Next Door

  Chapter 1: Grace

  Chapter 2: Ryan

  Chapter 3: Grace

  Chapter 4: Ryan

  Chapter 5: Grace

  Chapter 6: Ryan

  Chapter 7: Grace

  Chapter 8: Ryan

  Chapter 9: Grace

  Chapter 10: Grace

  Thanks For Reading!

  About the Author

  FAITHFUL DADDY NEXT DOOR

  CANDICE NOLAN

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  Faithful Daddy Next Door

  By

  Candice Nolan

  His sin, desiring her to be eternally his.

  Pastor Ryan is a worldly man of the cloth.

  He came from the street. Sin controlled him.

  Now he owes his life to the church. But at home, alone, in his bed, he worships one and no other.

  Amazing Grace.

  Not the song, but his barely legal next door neighbor. At nineteen, this little brat reminds him of the tempting sins he's left behind. He shouldn’t be lusting after her tight virgin body. He’s a protector of her innocence. A confidant for her sins.

  A hypocrite.

  He preaches self-restraint from the pulpit, but Grace arouses him when they’re alone. Her tantalizing flirting drives him wild with carnal fantasies.

  Grace is no angel. A strict upbringing has bred curiosity in her. She too pleasures herself, alone, in her bed. The faithful man next door tempts her to sin. She’s eager to experience life, dares to face temptations, and pulsing for Pastor Ryan to stretch her virgin soul.

  Wicked desires tempts the faithful in this stand alone romance novella. No cheating. No cliffhangers. Plenty of insta-lust, steamy sex, and a guaranteed happily ever after. This daddy figure love affair with an age gap between lovers proves true love is worth taking a risk.

  Copyright © 2017 by Candice Nolan / Pace Bend Press. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.

  This is a work of fiction and contains GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SEX, WHICH MAY OFFEND SOME AUDIENCES.

  All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older and all sex acts are consensual by all characters involved.

  Chapter One

  Grace

  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.

  Every syllable of the old fashioned hymn vibrates over my shoulder. I tingle with excitement because I know who’s singing. It’s Ryan Nichols the new youth pastor at our church. He sings the song at me every time we pass in the hallway. And I melt. Every time.

  He’s like no one I’ve ever known. His dark eyes bore into my soul and his cleft chin has my thighs quivering to sin. He is the end all to all my fantasies. He dominates my thoughts, but sadly I’m not alone. Our teen church group numbers in the hundreds. Every service he’s surrounded with lovestruck girls, praying to catch his attention.

  At least at twenty, I’m not still in high school, but I might as well be. He’s more than twice my age. Could even be my father. I shouldn’t have these thoughts about him, but I can’t help it. I want to be the one he chooses for his wife. It’s not going to happen. He hardly notices me.

  But a girl can hope.

  And pray.

  “Do you want to go first?” I ask. The hot, single pastor is singing over my shoulder in line at the coffee shop of our church. Cathedral of Hope is not a conventional church.

  There’s three main buildings to the school-like campus. The classrooms wing, the main sanctuary, and a smaller chapel for weddings and funerals.

  The progressive campus is massive with two playgrounds, a gift shop, coffee shop, prayer room, and an indoor game center for the youth. They make every effort to keep Christians of all ages happy and coming back to pay their tithes at church every week.

  Then there’s the barn. It’s out back, near the field. The structure, spray painted with religious graffiti is where the teens of the congregation hang out. There’s a stage, bleachers, ping pong table, and the best thing about being a teen, Pastor Ryan.

  “You go ahead, Grace.” He smiles and continues to hum Amazing Grace. When he gets to the end of a stanza, he winks in my direction.

  “Oh,” I suck in a squeal and do an about face so he doesn’t see me flush red. He nudges my shoulder. I peek around to him. “Yes, Pastor Ryan?”

  “Do you—?” He’s starts then is interrupted by a passing couple.

  “Pastor,” they nod.

  “Mr and Mrs Cotton,” He nods back.

  Do I what? Have a crush on you. Dream about you every night. Think you’re perfect. Love that sexy cleft in your chin. Like bananas. What?

  “Grace.” He snaps me out of my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “The line.” He points ahead. Two people have been served and I missed it. Only one person separates me from ordering and Pastor Ryan has me so turned in knots I can’t even remember what I want to drink.

  “Hi, Pastor Ryan,” the girl behind the counter talks past me to him. “I know the scripture for today. In case you want to call on me during service.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  I’m right up against the counter. It’s my turn now. He grips my shoulders and gently squeezes. “How about you take Grace’s order first?”

  Feeling his strong hands hold me has rendered me speechless. Every word in the English language has flown right out of my brain. “I—I.”

  My blood pressure is rising. I’m getting hot all over. His breath, warm on my neck isn’t helping. The girl behind the counter, staring at me isn’t either. I feel like I’m going to explode. “I’ll have steamed milk. With vanilla.”

  “Can we even make that?” she scoffs.

  “Of course you can,” Pastor Ryan encourages.

  I’m caught in the middle, bouncing back and forth, looking at him, then her, as he explains how to heat the milk up. The explanation has gone on too long. I plead quietly for it to stop and for this morning to all go away.

  “Just order something else.”

  “That’s okay,” I sigh, shrugging. “I wasn’t thirsty.”

  “Grace. Try chai tea. Make us two.” He holds
up two fingers and the girl gets busy making the order.

  I’ve never tried chai tea. But I know I’ll drink every drop, because he’s ordered it for me.

  “Really. You don’t have to,” I argue while he pulls me off to the side, without paying. We wait and my heart races at top speed.

  “Do you volunteer in the barn this week or next?” he asks his question.

  “Oh, that.” I lean on my chin on the bible I have crushed to my chest. I don’t dare move an inch while offering up my answer of next week.

  The coffee shop is small and I’m practically standing in his embrace. He leans into me with his elbow on the counter behind us.

  “Too bad. We could use your help this week.” His name is yelled out again. This time by the McCarthy cousins.

  They’re the prefect mean girls of the church. Just seeing them turns me green with envy. “Ryan,” I say, forgetting to add his title. He gives me a funny look, but I keep going. “I can help this week too. If you want.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Even though he’s busy waving and greeting parishioners, his body is turned toward mine. I pretend to watch the crowd, but secretly I’m watching his muscled chest rise and fall.

  What I wouldn’t give to see him up close and shirtless. I’ve seen him from a distance without his shirt, but it was through a window and blurry. I imagine my hand reaching out and stroking across his abs. How hard are they?

  “Here,” is called out behind us. Pastor Ryan turns fast. Before I know it, he’s turned my direction, smashing my hand between me and him.

  Oh, yes. I’m—touching—him. I’m paralyzed, unable to move.

  “Here you go, Grace.” He hands me my drink and winks. “See you after church.”

  He makes his way out of the coffee shop. I stay, my feet glued to the spot where I touched him. That is until the girl behind the counter notices my inability to move. She gives me a look that says “dream on” and I hustle out.

  On the way to the main sanctuary, which I fully plan on going into, I see Naomi and Lydia McCarthy. They’re cousins, but act like twin sisters because they look so much alike. I hate them. I know that’s a strong emotion, but I have good reasons to not like them.

  They’re both a year younger and have always beat me at everything. I failed at making the cut for the cheer squad at university, they became co-captains. They win every bible bowl competition, can quote any bible verse, volunteer more places, bake more cookies for the homeless, run more marathons for charity, and even sing as a duet in christian music videos.

  So yes, I have reasons to avoid them.

  Just so that I don’t have to pass them, I shy away from the main sanctuary and stroll down the back hallway of the church. Along the way, I pass Dwayne. He’s the greeter at the back door and he hugs all the young women a little too close.

  “Amazing, Grace,” he says, opening his arms for a hug.

  “Hi, Dwayne.” I’ve never been creeped out by him. Other women at church avoid him like the plague, but he’s always felt harmless to me.

  “You’re heading the wrong way,” he says, commenting that I’m going out the door toward the barn and not in toward the sanctuary.

  “I left something in my car.” I lie. It’s a little white lie, but I’m paying for it by allowing Dwayne to rub on my back. Now I’ve hugged him too long. I pull away and say, “Don’t tell my dad.”

  My parents are super strict, especially my dad. Church comes first. If he found out I’m ditching the sermon, he’ll sit me on a pew in his line of sight, so he can watch over me.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Dwayne puts a finger to his lips, locks them, then pretends to put something in his shirt pocket.

  ‘Thanks, you’re the best.” He makes a move for another hug, but I quickly leave out the door, before he can capture me for it.

  I’ve been out of the high school program for a few years and I envy the youth that get a chance to listen to Pastor Ryan. He’s so captivating on stage, that I’m compelled to sneak a peek at him. I head for the barn. And just in case Dwayne is watching, I first turn down into the parking lot to cover my tracks. It’s the long way around, but I need it to gather my courage.

  Almost there, with the building in sight, I lean on a nearby light pole in the parking lot. The doors to the barn are swung wide open. I can’t see the stage from my position, but I can hear everything. Above the crowd of teens, his voice rises.

  He’s singing.

  He’s passionate when he sings. Every note he belts out is full of emotion. Pastor Ryan is a reformed man. He came to Cathedral of Hope through the street ministry. When he was saved, he asked Christ to forgive him of many, many sins. Pastor Danny mentored him close. Took him under his wing. He saw what I see in him. A man of God, strong, willing to turn his life around. And a man of God needs a woman of God by his side. I know I could be the one he’s looking for. I have a closer connection than any other woman at church.

  I shut my eyes, listening to his voice, imagining I have him alone, with his full attention. He only has eyes for me and I confess.

  Ryan. I love you. No. I’m attracted to you. No. Do you know how sexy you are? No. I can’t focus. His touch earlier still has me trembling. I don’t expect you feel the same way about me. But I thought you’d want to know how I feel. In case you do feel the same.

  “I’m hopeless. A fool,” I sigh. “Why would an attractive man like him want a oddball girl like me? I’m just a kid. I haven’t lived through what he has. I’ve never even had a real boyfriend. No man ever destroyed property over me.”

  He said during a sermon once that a woman was so mad when he broke a date with her that she actually tried to push her truck off a bridge. She didn’t, but she wanted to be with him that bad. He’s worth crashing a vehicle over.

  Another reason why I’m just dreaming. Dad would never let me date a man who isn’t a virgin. Sex is a sacred bond. You’re tied to your sex partners. Every knot you tie dilutes the strength of the binding you can offer your soul mate.

  Of course that’s what they tell us all. I’m a virgin. I’ve never had a chance to tie anything.

  Walking away fast, I chicken out of being anywhere near the barn when service is let out. I also avoid the door Dwayne’s guarding. Instead, I walk along the side of the main building and slip into a back entrance that leads into the kitchen area.

  Big mistake. The place is crowded with volunteers picking up and dropping off trays of snacks for the children’s ministry. Amidst them is my mom.

  “Grace, darling.” Her face lights up. “Are you serving today?”

  I watch the pre-schoolers on a regular rotation, but it isn’t my Sunday this week. Again, I tell a little white lie.

  “Already have. Checking to see if you need any more help.”

  “We’re short handed.” She side hugs me. “You’re a good helper. Will you walk with Dean to take this cooler of water bottles to the barn?”

  To the barn? Anywhere but there. I panic, but don’t react fast enough. Dean, a broad shouldered man with adult acne, unruly hair, and pit stains shakes his head, gleefully overjoyed to see me.

  “Grace can help.” He grabs one handle and picks up his side of the cooler. “Come on Grace. We can do it together.”

  “Alright,” I sulk, picking up my side. All the way out to the barn, Dean is rambling on about his cat. I’ve had just about enough and I’m ready to drop our load and bolt.

  “Oh, look here.” He jerks us to stop near bush. Then he bends down and motions for me to bend down too. “It’s dead.”

  I’m curious, so I peer into the small opening in the bushes. Curled up, is a decaying cat. “Oh, gross!” I cover my mouth and jump up. “Have you told anyone else about this?”

  “He’s not gross. It’s science. His fur is falling off cause the bugs are eating his flesh. They’re hungry.”

  “I’m not.” I tug on the cooler, anxious to get far away from there. “Hurry up.” He stands and takes his side.


  Why me? I ask myself. Why do I attract all the weirdos? God, if you’re listening, can you please send me someone normal?

  No sooner had I thought the prayer, then we arrive at the barn. Pastor Ryan greets us at the door.

  “Dean, my man.” He pats him on the back, then takes my side of the cooler. “I got this. How was your chai tea?”

  Is it a sign? Are you speaking to me, Lord? Please say yes. Have him ask me out, if it’s a yes. Oh. If it’s your will. I’m too busy praying for a back up sign, that I forget that Pastor Ryan asked me a question. I’m left standing dumbfounded and confused at why he’s staring at me.

  “Okay. Let’s get this inside.” As soon as he and Dean step away, I do a face palm.

  Idiot. Chai tea. Yes, I loved it. Thank you. I owe you one. I scold myself, but keep my lips shut tight.

  Dean, and several high schoolers pass out the waters. Pastor Ryan returns to take his place on the stage. It’s time for the final worship hymn. I don’t dare hope Pastor Ryan will notice I stayed, but a girl can sit in the back and dream.

  After church, I slip out to walk to the car, alone. I chalk up my screw up over the tea as one in a million Sundays. I blew it. Next week he’ll be buying some other love sick girl a chai tea.

  I parked on the other side of the main sanctuary and decide to take a short cut through the building. On the way, I see Pastor Ryan, with Pastor Danny, and his wife, talking in the hall. It’s a narrow passageway and they’ve already seen me, so there’s no other way, but forward. I just want to get this morning over with, go home, and crawl under the covers. I keep my head down, and plant my eyes straight ahead.

  When I reach them, they’re talking about the prayer request schedule. I squeeze past with a light tap on Pastor Ryan’s back for him to scooch in so I can walk by.