9. Ember
I followed Priest to his bedroom, not at first, but after a few seconds. I knew that he left me alone at the front of the house as a test to see if I would run away. I still planned to do it, but I needed a better plan. The plan to seduce him had bitten me in the ass. I was already attracted to him. After last night, I wanted him more. I just hated that he acted like an asshole most of the time.
Losing control of situations the way that I had last night usually made me feel powerless, helpless, and like a victim. I hated feeling like a victim because it always brought back memories of the day my mother was murdered.
Last night was nothing like that, though. I wasn’t powerless, helpless, or a victim. I’d wanted the things that Priest did to me as much as he’d wanted to do them. Shame filled me, and I felt my face grow warm at the memories of what happened. I couldn’t believe that I’d got down on my knees and sucked his dick. That shit was so foul. If Phaedra had seen me, she would’ve yanked my ass off my knees by my hair and then yoked me up. Like, what the fuck?
But for some strange reason—call me a deranged bitch—I was still attracted to Priest. After all the shit he’d done, I still found myself wanting to ride his dick, I still fantasized about him while I played with my pussy, and I still wanted to drop to my knees and suck that dick again.
“It’s nice in here,” I called from the doorway, loud enough for him to hear me.
“What?” he yelled back.
“Your bedroom. It wasn’t what I expected it to be,” I muttered.
Surprisingly, it had a sleek, polished vibe decorated in bold navy blue and charcoal gray, from the walls to the furniture. The room had a powerful yet refined and modern edge. Recessed lighting over the bed made the large Wyoming king bed a focal point of the room. Navy sheets and a navy down comforter looked inviting, along with large pillows, and I fantasized about rolling around in it with Priest all over me, beneath me, and inside of me.
There was a mixture of charcoal and navy velvet throw pillows added in with the regular pillows. A navy fur throw was at the bottom of the bed, and another one rested on a crushed velvet navy blue bench at the foot of the bed.
A large-screen TV was mounted on the wall. Off to the right was a sitting area in front of a bay window. I wasn’t sure what the window looked out on because navy blue and charcoal drapes were drawn closed.
On the walls, there were various pieces of erotic art.
I jumped at the feel of Priest’s hand on the back of my neck. I looked at him over my shoulder. I hadn’t noticed how far into his room I had walked. I stood at the bottom of the bed.
“What’re you doing in here?” he growled.
My heart raced in my chest.
“I um… I was curious about what your bedroom looked like,” I explained honestly.
“Like what you see?” he asked, pressing his erection into my ass cheeks.
I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip. That feeling of helplessness washed over me again as if he might take what he wanted, and there wasn’t a damn thing that I could do about it. That wasn’t true. There was plenty I could do, even if I had to fight till my death. Then I would fuck him up along the way and possibly take him out with me if necessary. Only… I liked the way he felt against me. Damn. Why was I so torn?
I turned around and blew out my breath. “It’s a bedroom, Priest,” I replied soberly.
“You wanna test drive it?”
“Why is everything about sex with you?” I asked and pushed his chest to create space.
“Why are you always sneaking around? You’re just like every other woman, Ember.”
Hearing him say that to me made me want to prove him wrong. It made me want to show him that I wasn’t like every other woman. I wasn’t going out like that, though. I’d be damned if I ended up as a victim or another whore in his clubhouse. I would continue with my plan. He was already easing up on me.
“I’m nothing like other women, especially not those at your clubhouse.”
“How would you know? You don’t know nothing ’bout them.”
“I know they all would fuck you in a minute without blinking their eyes.”
“Like you wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t. They all have that thirsty look in their eyes when they look at you.”
“Like the one you’re sporting right now? Like you want to drop down and give me head?”
My breath inhaled sharply, more from surprise that he’d read me than from his statement.
“Don’t act shocked, pampered princess. Them big ass nipples doing damage to that T-shirt,” he replied in an edgy tone. He gripped my wrist, and his gaze dropped to my nipples.
“It’s cold in here, and you gave me this cheap T-shirt as a poor substitute for clothing.”
“So gahdamned bougie. Makes my fucking dick hard every time you spout that superficial, judgmental bullshit, pampered princess.”
“Stop calling me that,” I hissed.
“Want me to call you PP instead? We can work something out if that turns you on.”
“You’re nasty as hell. And I’m not into that shit.”
He leaned in closer and sniffed my neck. My eyes closed, and my pussy clenched so tightly at his warm breath on my neck. Priest licked the shell of my ear and whispered, “If I whipped my dick out right now and stuck it down your throat, you’d drain the muthafucka.”
“Fuck no! Not with your piss.”
He chuckled and let go of my wrist as I jerked it.
“Sweetheart, you’d suck anything I gave you just because I said so.”
“Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know,” he retorted as he reached down and pinched my nipple.
“I hate you, Priest, and everything you stand for,” I condemned.
I shoved at his chest to gain more space, but he didn’t move one inch. Instead, Priest leered at me, daring me to try to go around him. His presence was overwhelming, and I was growing angry because the more he provoked me, the more I was turned on, and that shit was downright embarrassing.
“You’re not gonna move?”
“I’m in my bedroom. I don’t recall inviting you in here.”
“You seemed to want me to come in here last night with the way you couldn’t get enough of spanking and fingering me.”
“Yeah, like you couldn’t get enough of draining the vein. If I wanted to bring you in my room and fuck the shit out of you last night, I would have, and you’d still be lying here comatose this evening.”
“You’re so damned full of yourself, Priest. You honestly believe every woman wants you. You’ve tortured your poor brain into believing that any woman would be blessed to be in your presence and that you’re God’s gift to women.”
I was angry because I’d dropped all pretenses of trying to get along with him, and it was hard to get back into the act. That was screwing up my plan of escape, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t give him that much power.
“Not trying to be no one’s gift, sweetheart. But I am a blessing.”
I scoffed and pushed him again. This time, he stepped aside, and I stormed from his bedroom.
I stopped in the hallway to face him. “This is why I tried to escape. You’re bipolar, delusional, narcissistic, and I’m sure there are so many other conditions lying under that ego that have gone undiagnosed. But I’m sure a therapist would have a field day with your psycho ass.”
“Where you going, pampered princess?”
“Away from you.”
“I ain’t said you can go nowhere,” he replied in a snarl and snatched my arm as I passed his den.
“I’m getting something to drink. I need a wine or something. I need to cool off because you’ve got me heated, sir. ”
“You ain’t gotta run from me, sweetheart. Your li’l bougie ass is too high maintenance for a nigga like me, anyway. Sit yo’ ass down somewhere, drink a beer, and be the fuck happy that I let you suck my dick. That’ll cool your hot little ass down.”
I turned around and smiled up at him.
“I can’t wait to get away from you when these thirty days are up,” I replied angrily as I tossed my plan out the door.
Priest smiled before he licked his lips. My pussy was drowning in juices, and I hated him for that.
“You leave when I say you leave. And if I decide at the end of the thirty days that you’re staying, there ain’t shit you and any other muthafucka can do about it.”
“You can’t keep me here, Priest. I have an entire fiancé, and when he finds out about this little game you and my daddy got going on, I’m sure he’ll shut this shit down. Besides, when my daddy returns your guns?—”
“Fuck your daddy. Fuck them guns. Fuck your fiancé. I said what I said.”
Priest was really angry with me. He had gone beyond just getting under my skin, and I knew he was in a bad space. I did wonder what my father had told Daniel. He and I usually had dinner once a week. He was biding his time to “deflower” his bride, but in the meantime, I knew he was sleeping with other women, and I had no doubt that wouldn’t end after we married.
I turned away from Priest one final time. My body tensed, waiting for him to snatch me back, but he didn’t. Instead, I heard a slow exhale of breath behind me as I made my way down the hall and then his slow, measured footsteps as he followed me.
Priest veered off before I got to the kitchen. I was glad when he didn’t follow me. Pulling the cabinets open, I found a glass and poured some juice. I looked around the kitchen as I drank my juice.
My eyes scanned the kitchen before they landed on the knife block on the counter on the other side of the kitchen. I found myself drawn to that counter as if by some magnetic force.
I lifted the heaviest knife out of the chopping block and weighed it in my hand. I then exchanged it for the lightest one and held it against my thigh. I wore short shorts, and there was no way that I could hide the knife anywhere on my body. My T-shirt was so tight you could spot a crumb in my bra underneath it. I had no doubt that Priest would spot it. He would have a bullet between my eyes before I made my first move.
I sighed and replaced the knife in the wood block. I walked to the sink, rinsed my glass out, and then turned out the light and left the kitchen.
I was heading back to my bedroom when I spotted Priest sitting on the floor in front of the couch in the den. His knees were pulled up near his chest, and his arms were draped over his knees. Priest’s head was bowed, and his fingers were clasped together almost in a prayer position.
There was something so serene and beautiful about him in that instant and something so sacred and humbling. My eyes drifted down, and I realized that the comb, brush, and oil were sitting beside him, along with a container of rubber bands.
After everything we’d gone through, he still expected me to braid his hair. This nigga had some nerve. He was so arrogant. Or maybe he was just hopeful.
As if he sensed my presence, Priest’s head jerked up, and he turned to look over his shoulder.
“If you gonna do my hair, bring ya ass.”
No, he was arrogant.
“Excuse me?”
His top lip curled, his nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened.
“Don’t play with me, little girl.”
“Damn, I’ve gone from Mary to the pampered princess to PP, and now I’m a little girl.”
He shook his head but didn’t verbally respond.
“I got your little girl,” I muttered.
If he heard me, he still didn’t respond. It was as if Priest had already closed himself off to me once again. I struggled to understand his deep mood swings, and I wasn’t sure what they were all about. I just knew that I didn’t like them one bit.