Page 14

Chapter Twelve

Later that night, Priest found himself at the door of Britain's apartment. Applying a subtle knock, he was greeted by Britain.

"Damn, you look good," Britain blurted, unable to contain herself. He was standing in front of her with a smirk. She invited him in, and the smell of steak waded into his nose.

"Thank you." Priest applied a light kiss to her forehead. "I thought I was taking you out." Priest noticed Britain was dressed in a simple stone-gray tube dress with her hair pulled back into a ponytail that reached the small of her back. Her face was free of any make up, allowing Priest to bask in the essence of her beauty.

"I know, but why let you constantly dip into your wallet when I can make us dinner?" Britain smiled as she shuffled into the kitchen with Priest trailing behind her with his hand is hers.

"What are we having?" Priest inquired as he watched her bend down to check what she had cooking in the oven. Britain turned on her heels, facing Priest with a grin.

"I have garlic butter lobster tails in the oven. I wasn't sure if you would prefer fried or broiled, so I made both." She pointed at the tray on the counter which contained two fried lobster tails and then removed the pan containing two grilled ones that were lightly coated in garlic butter from the oven. "Then, I have pan-seared garlic rosemary sirloin. For the sides, I have four cheese mashed potatoes, along with some asparagus." Once she finished listing the feast of foods she made, her smile widened in success.

"Damn." Priest licked his lips as a hunger pain struck him. "If I knew you could make all that, I wouldn't have taken you out so much.” Britain laughed.

"Look, it took a lot of convincing for me to cook after work. I wanted to go to sleep so bad," she told him.

Priest rubbed his stomach as he surveyed the food. "Shit, you can sleep while I eat. It don't really matter to me," he shrugged.

Britain rolled her eyes. "Hell no! I slaved in this hot-ass kitchen. I deserve a fresh plate."

Priest chuckled as he leaned down, peppering her lips with a few kisses. "Thank you for this," he said, expressing his gratitude. "I never had a woman cook for me before and look so good while doing it." His beguiling smile broke out onto his face as he locked his arms around Britain's petite waist. She wrapped her arms around his torso, hawking her feline-like orbs up at him.

"I never had a man who looks so good enjoy my cooking." Britain lifted her hands to the sides of Priest's face, cupping it in adoration, like always. "I gotta feed your body, mind, and soul."

Biting his bottom lip between his set of perfectly aligned teeth, Priest’s orbs graced Britain’s body from the top of her head to her feet. She was looking good, per usual, and he couldn't help but pour his attention into her. Britain assessed the look he gave her. Lust . Full of it at that. Although she knew he was lusting, she was unaware of the various positions Priest was imagining her twisted up in as he pounded into her relentlessly. Her lack of knowledge of this caused him to halt his lust-filled gawking at her and fall into laughter.

"What's so funny, Priest?" Britain asked with her natural brows arched up in confusion since she hadn't caught the joke.

Priest shook his head, his laughter still pouring out of him. "Nothing, man." He knew better than to tell her about the thoughts that were running through his mind. Only two things could resort as the outcome: Britain would either shy away from him, or she would challenge him. Although he would’ve loved to be challenged by her right at that very moment, Priest wouldn't take the risk since there was a chance she wouldn’t be receptive to it.

"Tell me. I wanna laugh."

Priest folded her arms across her chest and once again shook his head. "It's pointless, Gioia."

At the sound of her newfound nickname that she acquired from Priest, she immediately forgot about being left out of whatever had him laughing. A smile spread across her face as a fluttery feeling filled her stomach. "What's my name?" Britain asked tauntingly, now pressed against Priest's toned body.

A chuckle fled from his lips. "Gioia." His hands, for the first time, descended below her waist to rest on her round ass.

Britain’s eyes seared into his. She always tried to see past the darkness within them, but she just couldn't. Those orbs withheld his soul in its entirety. Britain always hoped that whenever she made him laugh and smile, his eyes would soften, but they never did. He had trained himself to remain on his toes no matter how comfortable or at ease he felt.

"Ask me anything," he offered, kissing her forehead. "I can tell you want to."

Britain cleared her throat. His voice, his touch, his gaze all had her wanting to just melt away in his arms. Priest introduced her to rough yet gentle. She had never experienced the two at the same time.

"Why me?" Britain asked quietly. Priest raised his brow. The question didn't necessarily catch him off guard. He just didn't understand why she asked.

"Why not you? You don't find yourself worthy?" he responded with a questioning look of his own. Britain instantly parted her eyes from Priest’s. He had just opened a can of worms that she was desperately trying to keep shut.

"Look at me." Priest guided her head back up. "You're woman enough to look me in the eyes. Don't shy away now."

Saved by the bell, Britain thought when she heard the kitchen timer sound off. Priest let out a light sigh and released her from his hold. His eyes watched her attentively, observing as she shuffled around the kitchen preparing everything for dinner. She plated both her and Priest's food before pouring them glasses of the mixed drink she prepared specifically for dinner. With the help of Priest, she placed everything on the dining table where they sat across each other.

This time, instead of praying individually, Priest and Britain joined hands as he led them in prayer. Britain couldn't fight the smile on her face when she heard Priest thank God for her. She wasn't sure whether he was doing it out of courtesy since she prepared the meal, or if he was doing it for other reasons only he could explain. Either way, it caused her to thank God for him in her own head.

"You gotta be good at everything?" Priest glanced from his plate to Britain whose face was warming up at the praise he gave her.

Britain thanked him. "I'm not all the way with the cooking, but my mother has taught me enough to make sure I'll never go hungry."

"Shit, me either," he jested, causing Britain to laugh.

Over dinner, the two continued to have conversation and laugh with one another. Britain was just glad their last conversation in the kitchen hadn't resurfaced.

"In my opinion, Ronnie was way finer than Diamond. Diamond was slick basic if we being honest." Priest shrugged as if he had rested his case. The two were having a heated debate about the well-known movie, The Player’s Club . Britain was dragging Ronnie and deeming her as a full-fledged hater, while Priest disagreed.

Britain's eyes widened. "What?! Do you hear yourself?! Diamond was way finer than Ronnie!" Britain argued. Priest waved Britain off as if she were speaking nonsense.

"Diamond really wasn't all that. The only thing she really did was beat Ronnie’s ass. Other than that, she wasn't touching Ronnie at all. Ronnie had that demeanor to her that Diamond lacked. Ronnie knew she was a bad bitch. Diamond was still trying to figure it out."

"If she was so confident in being a bad bitch, why was she always hating?" Britain raised a brow.

Priest smacked his lips. "She wasn't hating. She was just making sure Diamond knew her place. All I know is if anybody comes into my shit doing too much for my liking, I'm gonna address it, and that's what Ronnie did. I just wish she ain't get her ass whooped at the end." Priest laughed as he thought back to the iconic fight scene between Diamond and Ronnie that had everyone at the edge of their seats.

"Ronnie was hating," Britain concluded. Priest chuckled at how stubborn Britain was.

"Alright. That's like some new journalist taking over the spot you have at The Times . You won't be pressed?"

Britain cut her eyes at him since he managed to manipulate a way for him to be right. "This isn't about me, though." She shook her head, refusing to give him the upper hand in the argument.

"Alright. Let's just agree to disagree," he came to an agreeable conclusion with an amused expression etched on his face.

Satisfied with his decision to put the debate to an end, Britain smiled before getting up from the table to take care of the mess in the kitchen. Priest followed behind her to assist her.

"You don't have to," she assured him.

"You're right, but I want to," He clarified, causing another smile to grace her face. Together, they stood at the sink washing the dishes and various other utensils that were needed to prepare the meal. Britain washed while he dried and put them away as she directed.

Once they were done, they found themselves in Britain's bedroom watching another movie. Priest wasn't sure if he could get through the movie without falling asleep. The food Britain had just stuffed him with was giving him the itis.

"Stay with me tonight," Britain whispered. The sun had resigned from the sky and was replaced by the fluorescent moon. Priest always managed to lose track of time whenever he was with Britain.

Taking ahold of her face, Priest lowered his head for a kiss. Slowly, they moved in sync with each other, their lips fused together in a spark-inducing chemistry. Slipping their tongues into each other's mouths, they took on the exploration of getting to know each other on an even deeper level. Priest hovered over Britain's petite body. His clunky and authentic diamond-flooded jewelry brushed against her skin slightly, causing a shudder to slither up her spine. His massive right hand gripped the side of her thigh as her legs propped up and open, emulating a butterfly. The dress she wore had now rolled up to her waist, exposing the black lace thong she was wearing.

Britain was open to all the things Priest was willing to give her right now. Her heart was palpitating against her chest with severe nerves. She wasn't sure of what was to come as Priest kissed her passionately with conviction and intensity. Her breathing hitched in anticipation as he sank his teeth into the plump and tender flesh of her bottom lip, sucking on it slowly.

Caught in the euphoria of the tender kiss, a hiss slipped out of her lips. He sealed the kiss with a peck, leaving Britain ultimately dazed.

"Let me have you," Priest throated out in a husky tone, his words almost constricting Britain’s breathing. Eyeing him, she nodded her head.

Priest licked his hips. "Tell me I can have you Britain," he ordered.

"You can have me," Britain verbalized with a nod.

Britain gasped when she felt Priest's cold hands grace her inner thighs. She had always been self-conscious about that part of her body. She was darker complexioned, and her inner thighs always seemed to grow far darker than the rest of her body. Cameron had shamed her for it once, which caused her to immediately seek some type of fix for the darkness of her inner thighs. She soon regretted the decision to appease Cameron once she was three sessions into bleaching her inner thighs at a wax salon, which impacted her skin drastically. Since then, she had just let it be. She hadn't thought about it much since she hadn't had any relations with anyone, but now, with Priest here with her, she immediately felt the urge to clench her legs shut.

Priest couldn't help but notice Britain's instant reluctance. His brows furrowed as he searched her eyes for an answer before he asked her.

"What's the issue?" Priest asked her. He removed his hands from the inner portion of her thighs. He took up the space beside her, causing a feeling of relief to flow through Britain once she was able to close her legs.

"It's nothing with you," Britain assured him, breaking the moment of silence.

Priest laid beside her, appreciating her beauty. "I know that. Tell me what's bothering you."

"You'll just think it's stupid." Britain shook her head. Men were careless. They did and said things that, unbeknownst to them, affected a woman in every way. Cameron was one of those men who said anything that came to mind, despite whether it hurt Britain or not. Britain had gotten accustomed to it. Although she knew Priest was far different from Cameron, she didn't want to take her chances.

Priest scoffed lightly. "You're assuming things now?" he asked, a look of distaste taking over his face.

Britain shook her head. Priest was vocal about any and everything. Lying wasn't something he found joy in doing, and neither was sugarcoating things. Just like he preferred the real, he knew everyone he came across would appreciate how real he truly was.

"It's just a minor insecurity I have."

"What could it be? You're gorgeous." He took ahold of her hand, caressing her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

Britain felt her face heat up at the compliment Priest bestowed upon her. It had been a while since a man had said that to her and caused butterflies in her stomach. Priest rotated so he could lie on his side to face her.

"Tell me what it is," he urged her.

Britain let out a sigh. She was so embarrassed. Right now, she didn't want to have this conversation with Priest. She honestly thought he would have entered her core by now, exploring the depths of her soul and energy.

"I'm just darker down there," she sheepishly confessed without serving him any eye contact. "Goodness, I sound so stupid. Forget I even?—"

"What you expected, to be pale down there?" Priest twisted his face in confusion, not understanding why she allowed it to be an insecurity. "C'mon, Britain. I know who you are and what you represent. You embody the essence of the beauty of being black, and I couldn't be any more attracted to you than I am now. Shit like that don't turn me away, and it shouldn't cause you to shame yourself either. It's natural. You're natural," he eased out while caressing her face. Britain had finally found the courage to gaze into his dark eyes, and they had finally softened. No longer dull and emotionless, Priest’s eyes had brightened and become inviting… captivating even!

"Who hurt you?" Priest suddenly questioned. He could read the hurt all in Britain's eyes. She was still healing and trying her best to mend the wounds that were inflicted upon her. Britain instantly felt a disconnect. Resigning to her pain and opening up about it wasn't something that could be easily done. Britain sat up before the will to cry began to set in and she ended up embarrassing herself in front of Priest far more than she just had.

"No one," she curtly replied while getting up from the bed and making a bee line straight to her bedroom’s adjoining bathroom.

Before she got the chance to shut him out and close the door, Priest halted her. "Whoever hurt you, I'm not him. I'll show you the joy in life and the joy of being a strong, independent black woman, Gioia," he declared. "Get yourself together. I'll still be here when you're done."

She said nothing. Her response was shutting the bathroom door behind her. Enclosing herself inside, she gathered her emotions and got herself together like Priest advised her to. Her facade had been cracked. She had been hurt before, and it was still inflicting pain in her life and self-esteem.