Page 29 of The Love of Priest

"Fuck is you talking about?!" Mirsad shouted at Priest in a startled panic. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach at the sight of Priest before him.

"I fucking told you, Mirsad. Stay the fuck from round here," Priest gritted out with his jaws clenched in anger.

"You ain't my fucking pops. Get the fuck outta my face," Mirsad jeered in response to Priest. Priest tightened the grip he had on Mirsad, this time inching closer to him.

"You right. I ain't your fucking pops, and I don't wanna be," Priest clarified. "However, you on my fucking block with some weak-ass product making a fool out of me. Don't test me, Mirsad. I'll smoke your ass and help Nia pay for the funeral," Priest threatened with a more than promising tone. He let Mirsad fall from the grip of his calloused hands with a grimace etched out on his face. Mirsad said nothing in return. Instead, he leered right into Priest’s eyes.

"Get the fuck off my block," Priest ordered. "If I find out you ain't found your way home by the end of the night, you won't be an issue for me or Nia anymore. Understood?"

Mirsad said nothing. Although Priest often gave silence as a response to certain things, he hated it being done to him. Mirsad glanced away, no longer finding Priest worthy of the respect of eye contact. Priest gripped Mirsad's jaw, jerking his head in his direction and demanding eye contact. His jet-black piece of steel was now gripped in his other hand as he pressed the barrel of the gun underneath Mirsad's chin, hiking his head up.

"Understood?" Priest gritted out with much more emphasis.

Mirsad clenched his jaw, showcasing his anger. "Understood," he responded.

Satisfied with his little cousin’s response, Priest secured his weapon back into his waist band. The multiple niggas who decorated the block all acted as if they hadn't witnessed the ordeal that had just unfolded between Priest and Mirsad.

"Check this out. If any of y'all catch him 'round here again, smoke his ass," Priest gave direct orders, causing the guys on the block to all nod their heads in understanding of the new set rule. Priest needed Mirsad to know that he was gambling with his life by trying his older cousin. If this didn't keep Mirsad out of the streets, Priest was sure getting popped in the ass with a hot one would.

Getting into his black-on-black Bentley Bentayga, Priest pulled off, leaving his untouchable presence still on the block. He didn't have to wait it out to see if Mirsad was actually heading home. He was confident in the fact that he was.

ChapterTwelve

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.

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