The new minister and his wife stood at the front of the sanctuary like they had been placed there by God Himself.

Andrew Hale was everything a residential minister should be—tall, soft-spoken, clean-cut, with a gentle smile that made the older women in the congregation press their hands to their chests. Beside him stood his wife.

Skyler.

Maddox felt his cock thicken the moment his eyes landed on her.

She was twenty-five, maybe twenty-six, with long honey-brown hair pinned into a modest twist and a soft, full mouth that looked like it had been made for sin. Her dove-gray dress was high-necked and long-sleeved, the kind of clothing chosen to...