A Preacher's Passion by Lutishia Lovely Page B

that week, things had gotten tricky. Stanley came home, and because of his dedication to the Kingdom Keys series and the short time they had to produce it, had cancelled his remaining out of town engagements for the length of Lavon’s visit. Lavon and Carla still saw each other almost all day every day, but Stanley was there as well.
    Stanley’s return didn’t totally stop the lovers from their trysts. Citing engagements with Vivian or one of the other members of Ladies First, an organization for pastors’ wives, Carla met Lavon at the Sheraton and enjoyed stolen hours of mind-boggling ecstasy. Lavon’s unparalleled oral expertise was like crack cocaine; the more she had, the more she wanted. She kept telling herself that this good sex was blowing her mind because of how long she’d gone without it. She rationalized that the affair was only eight weeks out of a lifetime marriage. November would come and Lavon would be gone, leaving her with wonderful memories and a va-jay-jay that tingled every time she imagined his face or heard his name.
    “Lavon,” she whispered.
    “What’d you say?” Stanley asked, coming into the kitchen.
    Carla had been so deep in thought she hadn’t heard her husband, or realized she’d said her lover’s name out loud.
    “Did you say Lavon?”
    “Did I?” Carla asked, busying herself by grabbing fixings for a salad she hadn’t planned to prepare—anything to keep her hands busy. “I may have; I’m trying to organize a ‘to do’ list in my mind and getting copies of my SOS tapes to him is one on the list.”
    “Speaking of, how’d your meeting go?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Your meeting?”
    “What meeting, Stan?”
    Stan stopped from getting a soda out of the refrigerator and looked at Carla. “Didn’t you tell me you had a meeting today with Ladies First? Planning for the next Sanctity of Sisterhood mini-conference?”
    “Oh, that meeting.” Carla had momentarily forgotten which lie she’d used for her afternoon delight at the Sheraton. “No, Boo, that got cancelled so I met with someone else instead.”
    “Who?”
    She didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, you don’t know her, she’s not a pastor’s wife. Just a sistah who needs prayer, and a friend.”
    Carla wasn’t in the habit of lying to Stanley; their marriage had been above board for a decade. But she hadn’t always been saved, and back in the day, she could lie like a rug, look you straight in the eye and tell you the sky was red with so much conviction you’d almost believe her. In the last three weeks, Carla had found the art like riding a bicycle—a skill that came back with practice.
    Stanley came behind Carla and put his hands on her shoulders. “Have I told you lately how special you are?” The contact was brief, rote, reminding Carla what she had to look forward to once Lavon was gone. But she hadn’t missed the sincerity in her husband’s voice. He cared for her, loved her in his own way.
    A wave of guilt washed over Carla. What was she doing? Here was a man who’d married a single mother, adopted her daughter as his own, gave her two sons, supported the family financially and in every other way for ten years, and never once gave her cause to suspect he was unfaithful. And how was she thanking him? By screwing the man Stanley had brought in to take their ministry, their successful, fruitful ministry, to a higher level. This is why for the past month Carla had refused to really think about what she was doing; it didn’t feel good. She knew she had to end things with Lavon.
    “I love you, Boo,” she said, with a catch in her voice, as she turned and hugged her husband tightly.
    Stanley noticed the emotion behind the words. He held Carla at arm’s length, searching her face for answers. “Are you all right?”
    “Yes, just emotional I guess, that time of the month.”
    “Oh, I see. So that’s why you haven’t been bugging me to fulfill my marital obligations, huh?”
    It was true. Since Lavon had