Page 25 of The Love of Priest

He craned down, colliding his plush lips with hers. Like second nature, she wrapped her arms around his neck and jolted up on her tippy toes. They both relished the slow kiss, savoring the moment. Priest gripped her waist tightly, giving her that sense of security she hadn't felt from a man she was pursuing in a while.

"I crave you, and I haven't even had you yet," Priest huskily breathed out. He was thinking out loud and failed to keep Britain out of his head.

Britain had no witty response or any question to spring on him. He noticed that she liked cupping her hands around the structure of his face. She admired him a lot. Craning his head down, Britain pulled him into another igniting kiss.

Their lips parted from each other, and he ran a distressed hand down his face. "Go put your heels on," he told her before they ended up getting carried away.

She obliged with a nod of her head, turning on her heels toward her bedroom and leaving Priest in question.

What the fuck has gotten into me?

To the sounds of 6lack and J. Cole’s song “Pretty Little Fears,” Britain and Priest sat alongside each other in his Porsche. She couldn't help but find it amusing how Priest hummed lowly to the song, not wanting to draw too much of her attention. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, emulating the beat of the song.

"Let it out. I know you wanna sing it," she encouraged him.

He laughed, keeping his focus on the road. Britain angled herself so she could stare directly at him. A beguiling smile curled her lips at the sight of him desperately trying to avoid her gaze.

"Your image crowds your true aura," she blurted out, reaching for the screen on the dashboard and pausing the song.

Priest scrunched his face up questioningly. "What are you talking about?"

"Exterior wise, you're hard, invincible even. On the inside, you crave vulnerability and love." Britain’s eyes scanned him as he shifted uncomfortably at the fact that she was right. "You've been through a lot, from what I've heard so far, but remember, it's never been your fault," she preached to him, hoping her words didn’t fall on deaf ears.

Realizing Priest wasn't going to issue a response like he usually would when he felt the conversation was established enough, Britain resumed the song, allowing it to fill the car with J. Cole's favored verse.

"You can confide in me. I can take the weight up off your shoulder blades and try to store the pain inside of me. Like, why the world do you like that? Like they don't know you, God-sent, but me, I view you like that," Britain lightly sung along while using her right hand to gently caress Priest's face in adoration.

Priest felt a calm wash over him. She seemed to be subduing that constant craving for vulnerability and love. "I'm sneaking glances thanking God that he drew you like that." Priest finally conceded to Britain's persuasion of singing along. "Beautiful black child, come and shed your black cloud. For your vibe and your smile, I don't mind a lil' rain."

His tender hand gripped her exposed thigh. J. Cole’s verse resonated with Priest all too well. Even though Priest considered himself more of the black cloud than Britain, it was an open admission that he was willing to take on the rain that came with being introduced into Britain's life and letting her into his.

Once they arrived at their destination, the car came to a smooth halt. Getting out, he stuffed his keys and phone into the pockets of his Amiri jeans and made his way over to Britain's side of the vehicle, assisting her out of the car.

"Where are we?" was the first thing Britain asked as she scanned her surroundings.

With a smirk, Priest placed his hand on the small of her back. "Just vibe,Gioia," he assured.

Britain screwed her face up in a nasty mean mug. "Hell you call me? My name is notGioia. It's Britain," she corrected him with a slash of her tongue, full of attitude.

Priest maneuvered Britain in front of him with his arms lacing her waist. "Gioiameans “joy and delight” in Italian. That's what you are to me right now." Hearing the meaning behind the gifted nickname immediately tamed Britain’s attitude.

"Right now?" She shot him a side eye that evoked an amused chuckle from him.

"For however long," Priest corrected himself, which seemed to please her.

Priest maneuvered his way from behind Britain, now hand in hand with her. He led the way to the entrance of a restaurant with glass decor. The lighting within the restaurant was spectacular. Large, exquisite chandeliers graced the ceiling as porcelain white crystal light fixtures fancied the place.

"It's beautiful in here." Britain surveyed the restaurant in awe as she followed Priest, who now had employees scurrying around to fulfill his requests, and he hadn't even uttered a word.

"Jazzy designed the place," Priest enlightened Britain with a light smile once they were finally able to secure a secluded table in the back, which was always reserved for either Priest, Jazzy, Kaymen, or J'Ru.

Britain blinked, trying her best to retain the basis of what he had just told her. "Which means you own the place?" she asked.

Priest nodded his head as he pulled her chair out for her. She thanked him as he went to claim his seat opposite her. "La Lealtà," she read the cursive script that engraved the leather covering of the menu, slightly butchering the name.

Priest chuckled. "Say it with me,La Lealtà," he guided her with the proper pronunciation of the name. "It's Italian. It means “loyalty, honesty, faithfulness,”" Priest added, knowing Britain had a question brewing for him pertaining to the origin of the name.

Britain rolled her eyes kiddingly at the fact that Priest beat her to the punch. "You seem to love the Italian language. Have you ever been?" She diverted with another question.

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