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“So explain celibacy to me then,” Elijah says.
We’re on a hike to find the final spring that inspired the location and the name of the abbey, and even though my muscles ache from another long day helping with the lavender, and even though my stomach is growling and my uncaged c**k is fussing at me for attention, I can’t remember being this happy in . . . well, in a very long time. I’ve been content at Mount Sergius, I’ve been at peace, and I’ve felt joy that cleaves me right down to the bone, but just the simple happiness of hard work and a sunny day and a hot guy?
It’s been so long that it feels brand new to me. A new feeling that’s been invented just now in these stony hills under this hot Mediterranean sun.
“Well,” I say as we pass through the narrow cleft of rock that’s suppos
