Page 11 of The Love of Priest 2

"Britain, you got my word," he asserted once more, this time placing his right hand over his heart, sealing the promise to her.

A fluttering feeling invaded her stomach as the smile on her face widened.

Shyly, she avoided Priest's gaze by dropping her head.

He had filled her heart with the infectious feeling of love, and she no longer knew what to do with herself.

"Lord," Britain breathed out heavily, causing some laughter to drift out of Priest.

"I know it's a lot to unload right now, but it's my truth. I know what I want," Priest stated firmly with a smirk.

"You really think I'm the one?" Britain lifted her head to eye him with a questioning look etched on her face.

Confidently, he nodded his head. "One hundred percent, no doubt."

"Like wife and kids?" she asked for more clarification.

"Definitely wife, but don't hold me on the kids ‘cause I'm not sure if I'm ready to share you quite yet," Priest admitted shamelessly.

Britain brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles lightly. "I love you, P," she declared with a smile.

Priest chuckled lightly. "I love you too," he professed.

SAPPHIRE NIGHTCLUB

HARLEM, NEW YORK

Jazzy lathered Taylor's behind with the sweet-scented body oil.

She hated the feeling the oil left on her hands, but over time, she learned to cope.

"So, next Saturday is really your last night in here with me?

" Taylor pouted as she eyed Jazzy through the ceiling to floor mirror in the dressing room.

Jazzy nodded as leaned down to make sure Taylor's legs were lathered in the body oil as well. "Yup, you bitches made sure I was in and out. I can't thank you guys enough,” Jazzy laughed, completely ignoring Taylor's pout.

"How much do you have now?" Taylor asked.

"Sixteen, but by the end of next week, I’ll be at twenty g's." Jazzy smiled proudly as she rose from her squatted position.

Taylor turned around to face her. A smile emerged onto her face as she pulled Jazzy into a hug. "My boss-ass bestie!” They swayed side to side in their embrace.

"Priest nor J'Ru’s asses better not have shit to say," Jazzy said as she and Taylor parted from the hug.

Taylor smacked her lips. "You know they're gonna have something to say.”

She and Jazzy rolled their eyes at the thought of the men.

"Yeah, but for the most part, it should be quiet," Jazzy laughed while Taylor agreed.

Taylor sashayed over to her duffle bag in her clear stripper heels that had her standing tall. She reached inside the bag, extracting a stack of cash. "Consider yourself at twenty bands," she announced as she extended the money to Jazzy.

Jazzy glanced down at the money. "Bitch, stop!" She shook her head as she pushed Taylor's hand away from her.

Taylor laughed as she pushed the money right into her hand. "Jazzlyn, if you don't take this money, I'm gonna drag your ass."

Her face softened as she took the money from Taylor. "Thank you." She pulled Taylor into another hug, this time squeezing her tight.

Taylor laughed. "You're welcome, Jaz. I always want to see you doing better than me. I do not want you in here shaking that fat ass, even though you would bring mad niggas in this bitch," she told Jazzy, inducing some laughter between the two.

"Yo, you're one solid-ass bitch." They slapped hands. "I love you."

"Love you too, pretty," Taylor said with a smile just as her name was being called on the mic to take the stage. "I gotta go make these niggas come out of their pockets. Wait up for me?"

Jazzy nodded her head. "I'll meet you back here," she told Taylor, who okayed her before heading out the door and toward the stage.

Jazzy, who was still on a high about Taylor gifting her with the cash, glanced down at the stacks in her hands.

A smile graced her face as she skipped off happily to stuff the money in her purse.

Like any other night, she mingled at the bar, having a few drinks and eating some food while surveying the crowd.

As she trekked down the hall, preparing to enter the mayhem of a Saturday night at club Sapphire, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist. Her eyes darted toward the entry of the hall which Cyro was already making his way through.

Jazzy yanked her wrist out of the grip of the person's hand just as Cyro snatched whoever the person was by the collar of their shirt. "Don't ever try to fucking touch me!" Jazzy spat in fury as she whipped around to face the person who had attempted to grab her.

"Yo, chill! It's me," Kev, Cameron's homeboy, shrieked as he forcefully tried to free himself from Cyro's hold on him.

Jazzy rolled her eyes. "Nigga, are you fucking stupid?" She shook her head at him as she signaled for Cyro to free him.

Cyro roughly let Kev out of his grip before claiming his spot behind Jazzy, keeping his stern eye on Kev. "Tell ya mans to chill," Kev pointed to Cyro.

"I should tell him to fuck you up for thinking you could touch me. Next time you pull some shit like that, you getting knocked out, and that's a promise," Jazzy seethed without an ounce of remorse. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Ron. He’s waiting for you out back," Kev pointed toward the back exit as he continued to eye Cyro up and down.

Jazzy let out a light sigh of frustration. "You really gotta stop being a crash dummy for this nigga," she advised him, making it evident she pitied him.

Kev smacked his lips rudely before walking off toward the main floor of the club. "You alright?" Cyro’s oak brown eyes peered down at Jazzy.

Jazzlyn nodded, assuring Cyro she was okay.

"I'm about to head out back. Could you post up in front of the door? If Taylor asks for me, tell her I'll be right back," she instructed Cyro.

Heading in the opposite direction of the front of the club, Jazzy pushed through the heavy door, leaving Cyro behind.

Through the darkness of the night, Cameron's bright headlights flickered, signaling her to the car.

In her heels, Jazzy waltzed toward the car, a light smirk on her face.

Instead of heading to the passenger side of the vehicle, she stood at the driver's side, applying a knock into the window.

The dark tinted window lowered with ease, revealing Cameron's handsome face. "You're gonna get Kev fucked up," Jazzy warned him.

Cameron chuckled in amusement. "My bad. I told him to be nice."

"The nigga clearly lacks common sense," she muttered as she folded her arms across her chest. "What you call me out here for?" Jazzy asked with a slight attitude in her tone.

Reaching down to his lap, Cameron grabbed a thin white envelope, handing it over to Jazzy.

The smirk Jazzy was previously sporting had made its way back to her face.

She glided her acrylic gel painted nail underneath the flap of the envelope, opening it.

Extracting the paper out of the envelope, she unfolded it before scanning her eyes over the document.

"How I know these aren't fake?" she asked suspiciously as she turned the paper over so he could see it as well.

Cameron smacked his lips. "You think I'm that pressed for your pussy to fake some fucking test results?" He eyed her.

Jazzy shrugged her shoulders. "Niggas are wild these days."

Cameron chuckled as he eyed her. "They're legit," he confirmed truthfully.

Jazzy licked her lips before nodding. "I guess you have a clean dick after all," she mumbled and shrugged her shoulders.

Another laugh drifted out of him. "You can say that," he agreed with her.

She dropped the full screen test results onto his lap. "Well, nice seeing you, Cameron." She waved goodbye to him before she began walking off.

"You not gonna show me yours?" he called behind her as she continued to sashay away.

"No need.”

"So, I'm just supposed to trust you?!" he yelled behind her, causing her to abruptly halt her walking. Jazzy strode back toward him with a look of annoyance etched on her face.

"Okay, let's set some ground rules." She clasped her hands together.

"One, don't be out here exploiting my business. We have nothing going on. Two, there is no trust between us. You do your own thing, and I do mine. As long as our own things don’t get back to each other, we’re good.

Three, I'm only fucking you because you're really the only nigga who was persistent enough to make me pay you some mind.

Plus, you paid that extra fee to have your test results expedited," she stated, causing a smooth chuckle to ease out of him.

"This is every nigga's dream," Jazzy arrogantly let out, smoothing her hands down her gorgeous body that was accentuated by her perky C-cup breasts, a small waist and curvy hips.

"You could fuck this up two ways: your dick game could be trash, or you run your mouth like a bitch.

" She reached through the open window, flicking his plump bottom lip tauntingly. "Up to you.”

Jazzy's sex appeal came with a high dose of dominance. She liked to run the show, and that showed in the way she carried herself. No one was beneath her; however, she wasn't about to let anyone feel as though they had the upper hand.

Cameron leaned back in his seat behind the wheel of his Range Rover. His pearly white teeth bit his bottom lip before he nodded. "That's a bet," he agreed.

"Cameron, I'm warning you, if you chat like a female, I'll turn into your worst nightmare," she gave him another fair warning.

Cameron scoffed with an ounce of arrogance. "What are you capable of?"

Jazzy chuckled, finding his cockiness amusing.

She enjoyed the fact that he was clueless about her affiliations and who she was related to, and she preferred to keep it that way.

"Don't hurt yourself trying to play hard," she warned him.

A smug smirk played out onto her face as she slapped Cameron's cheek lightly.

She then proceeded to turn on her heels, sashaying back toward the door of the club to enter where she exited.

Jazzy definitely wasn't typical.