by Honey
It was a whirlwind love affair, one befitting the pages of a spicy romance novel. Two virgins from Christian families with deep roots in their respective churches who were on the path to become vessels for God in ministry introduced each other to passion. The soon-to-be priest and the future missionary spent every waking moment of the day together. And by night they made love on a lopsided sofa bed inside his modest studio apartment on Burdette Street.
As weeks passed and spring yielded to summer, Priscilla asked her beloved to abandon his orders and the priesthood to spend the rest of his life with her. Together they would spread the love of Jesus and minister to His people through the United Methodist Church, where he could be ordained and become a pastor. More importantly, it would’ve been permissible for him to marry, eventually becoming her husband and the father of her children.
It was a very difficult decision, the hardest one he’d ever faced. But after two weeks of praying, studying Scripture, and consulting with fellow aspiring men of the cloth, Jacob Anthony Kyle decided to continue on his path to the priesthood. Priscilla was heartbroken, and so was he. He loved her dearly and wanted a life with her, but a man in his position—one with a higher calling—had to deny his desires for God and the Roman Catholic Church.
He and Priscilla made love for the very last time and said their goodbyes the night before he rose early in the morning and boarded a plane to Spokane. They never saw each other or even spoke again. God had yet to send a sunrise that Father Kyle had witnessed without thoughts of his sweet and beautiful Priscilla. It would be totally untruthful of him to say he had no regrets having chosen the priesthood instead of a life with her. However, he believed he had done what was best for him and God. He only hoped that the young man who he prayed for daily would make the right decision and marry his lover and be saved from fornication. After all, he wasn’t a priest. He was free to enjoy a bride and father children while living a life pleasing to the Almighty.
* * *
“That must be Tyler.” Royce left her parents at the dinette and walked out of the kitchen. She was nervous about them meeting Father Gregory. Harold and Estelle Phillips were very perceptive people. And they knew all about chemistry, having been married for forty years. Royce was prepared to put on an award-winning theatrical performance for her mom and dad. She hoped Father Gregory would rise to the occasion as her costar.
Royce rounded the corner and came face to face with her nephew and her man. It made no sense for a priest to look so damn deliciously hot in customary clergy attire. Royce drew in a quick breath as her eyes roamed over the tight muscles under his long-sleeved black shirt and suit jacket. The traditional white collar was crisp. His simple black slacks looked as if they had been designed for only him. She blinked when she imagined what was underneath the dark fabric.
“Are they here yet?” Tyler asked with eyes as bright as a pair of twinkling stars.
“Who are you talking about, sweetie? Were you expecting company today?” Royce teased and rubbed the top of his curl-covered head.
“You know who I’m talking about, Auntie. Did Grandpa and Granny come yet? I don’t see their car.”
“They’re in the kitchen, honey. Grandpa parked his Buick in the garage.”
“Yesss!” He broke out in a swift sprint toward the kitchen.
Father Gregory pulled Royce into his arms and kissed her fully on the mouth. She returned his embrace and savored the short kiss. He smiled at her, and it lit her fire, but she mentally put her body on ice for the time being.
“Are you ready to meet my folks, Father Gregory, sir?” Royce smiled at him, but she was fighting a hearty laugh. By the end of the night and no doubt in the nights to come this following week, she wouldn’t be calling him by his spiritual title and surname. Nothing but sweet endearments would come from her lips as they made love.
“I’m excited about meeting your parents.” He waved his hand. “After you.”
Royce led Father Gregory into the kitchen. She was more than nervous. She smiled when she found her parents sitting quietly and listening attentively to Tyler talking nonstop about school and his adventures with his friends.
“Mama and Daddy, meet Father Nicholas Gregory. He’s our new priest. He is also your only grandchild’s best buddy.” She turned around and looked into the most mesmerizing eyes in the world. “Father Gregory, I’d like you to meet my parents, Harold and Estelle Phillips.”
He stepped forward with his right hand extended. “Mr. Phillips, it’s an honor to meet you, sir. Tyler talks about you all the time.”
The older man chuckled and took the proffered hand in a courteous shake. “You’re a young priest. I like that. And you’re almost as good-looking as me. Thank you for being a role model and mentor for my grandson in his father’s absence and mine too. He respects you.”
“It’s nothing, sir. I’m only fulfilling my spiritual obligation to the youth.” His eyes shifted to Mrs. Phillips. He opened his arms and hugged her. Then he stepped back. “Mrs. Phillips, you’re even more gorgeous than Tyler described. He told me Gabrielle Union is going to look just like you in a few years. I had no idea what he meant then, but I definitely know now.”
“Oh, hush your mouth now. You and Tyler are good for an old lady’s ego, Father. Thank you very much. I’m no Gabrielle Union, but I appreciate the flattery. It may earn you a sweet potato pie next Saturday when we bring Tyler home.”
“Did you say sweet potato pie? Can I get that in writing, Mrs. Phillips?”
“No need for formalities. My word is my bond, honey. Any priest who’s had a positive influence on my one and only grandbaby deserves my great-grandmother’s secret sweet potato pie. I’ll make sure Royce delivers two freshly baked pies to the parsonage Saturday evening.”
Royce stretched her eyes in shock over her mother’s words. If the woman knew what had happened the last time her daughter visited the priest at the parsonage, she wouldn’t have suggested that she go there again, ever.
“I’ll be counting down the days, ma’am. Thank you so much. I love sweet potato pie.”
“Are you finished packing, son?” Mr. Phillips redirected everyone’s attention to his grandson.
“Not yet, Gramps. Give me fifteen minutes.”
Tyler ran out of the kitchen and went upstairs. The adults sat down to get better acquainted while they sipped coffee. Royce was happy that her parents and Father Gregory had finally met. It gave her a sense of satisfaction that he had met their approval as a priest and mentor. She imagined they would feel the same way about him if he had been introduced to them as her special guy or fiancé in another life. Of course, Royce would never have the privilege of presenting Father Gregory to anyone as her man, but wishful thinking had never harmed anyone.
* * *
An hour or so later, Royce stood facing her mother in the foyer. Tyler, Mr. Phillips, and Father Gregory were outside loading the car.
“Zora told me you two had a falling out. She said y’all haven’t spoken in weeks. I didn’t raise you two girls like that. You’re all each other has. What could your sister have possibly said to you that was so nasty you won’t even take her calls, child?”
“Ask her.” Royce folded her arms across her bosom and rolled her neck.
“I did already. That gal wouldn’t tell me a thing. She said the grudge is between you and her. But you and Zora are my babies, Royce. I don’t like you fussing and ignoring one another. Talk to your sister and forgive her for whatever she said to hurt your feelings. I told her to forgive you too.”
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”
“You can be sassy and mean as a pit bull sometimes, Royce. I’m sure that spicy tongue of yours spat something out that you could’ve swallowed. Fix this mess. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“I put my foot in this.” Royce licked the back of the spoon and tossed it in the kitchen sink. Her homemade Alfredo sauce tasted like heaven in a pot.
She tossed a handful of fresh baby spinach leaves into the creamy white cheese sauce and grabbed another spoon from the dish draining rack. She stirred slowly, mixing the contents together thoroughly. She reached for the bowl of raw peeled and deveined shrimp just as the phone rang.
Royce wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t expecting any callers or visitors except Father Gregory. He wasn’t due back to her place for another hour or so. He had gone home to change clothes and to swap his Corvette for his Harley. The early April weather was warm and balmy most nights, making his motorcycle rides comfortable.
Royce walked over to the counter where her cell phone lay charging. She looked at the caller ID screen. “Damn! Why is she calling me tonight?”
Zora was not on Royce’s agenda. She had planned to speak with her soon like her mother had requested, but it wouldn’t happen tonight. She had more important business to take care of like feeding her man and spending quality time with him. It would be their first full night together in a few weeks. She was glad that Tyler was in Thomasville with her parents. Zora would have to wait until tomorrow for their kiss-and-make-up phone chat. Royce ignored the phone and went back to the stove to add the shrimp to her kick-ass Alfredo sauce.
Waterloo, Sierra Leone
West Africa
“She still won’t take my calls, Eric.” Zora placed the phone on its receiver and blew her nose with a rumpled tissue. She dabbed her eyes. “I just want to apologize and tell her how wrong I was. I had no right to accuse her of sleeping with her priest. What the hell was I thinking?”
Eric rested on his knees in the bed and massaged his wife’s drooping shoulders. “You were being an overprotective big sister as usual, but this time you took it a little too far, honey. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
“I have. Next time, I’ll think before I speak no matter how strongly I feel about something. I’m going to keep my mouth closed and stay in my lane.”
“Good girl.” Eric kissed the back of Zora’s neck a few times. “You can try to reach Royce again in the morning. Tonight I want your full attention.”
“I’m all yours, Dr. Benson.”
* * *
“Wait a minute, baby. I left my cell phone in the kitchen.”
Royce ran back down the stairs and went to the kitchen. She found her cell phone fully charged on the countertop. She disconnected it from the cord and hurried upstairs to the master suite. There was a trail of discarded men’s clothing items, all black in color, on the floor. The trail led to the bed where Father Gregory was sitting up with his back supported by a stack of pillows.
“You’re not going to need that phone tonight. You could’ve left it where it was.”
Royce batted her eyelids. “I need it close by just in case some male suitor calls me to tell me he’s on his way over. I wouldn’t want him throwing rocks at my window and screaming my name for the entire neighborhood to hear. Some men are so crazy.” She laughed.
Father Gregory pressed his lips together and stared at Royce with a stony expression on his handsome face. “I hope you’re just kidding.”
“Baby, you know I am. You’re my heart.” Royce sat down on the bed next to him. “I will always be true to you and only you.”
“I can’t help but wonder sometimes.”
“About what?”
“It scares me to think about what’s going to happen when some man comes along who can be all that you want him to be and is able to offer you everything I can’t. I won’t be able to compete with a guy who can give you his hand and heart in marriage and wants you to have his children, Royce. You would be a fool to turn him away.”
“I guess I’m a fool, because I wouldn’t give him the time of day.” She kissed him on the cheek.
Father Gregory took Royce into his arms. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He laid Royce down on the bed and rolled on top of her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, allowing her cell phone to fall to the bed. They started off with soft, gentle kisses and subtle caresses, but soon the heat turned a spark into a full brush fire.
Royce, feverish and brazen, pushed and rolled, reversing their positions on the bed. She sat up on her knees, straddling Father Gregory and relieved him of the only item of clothing he still had on: his black boxers. To return the favor, he lifted the skirt of her simple powder blue baby doll dress up high and pulled it over her head. Royce released the single front clasp on her black lace bra and removed it. She squealed when Father Gregory flipped her over to regain control of the situation. He eased her black thong down her thighs and legs until it was completely off. He tossed it carelessly to the side.
He licked Royce’s left nipple a few times and then gently took possession of it with the edges of his teeth. She squirmed and whimpered when he started sucking the taut tip and pinching the other between his thumb and index finger.
“Oh, baby . . .”
“Uh-uh. What’s my name, Royce?” he asked between deliberate flicks of his tongue to her sensitive nipples alternately. “Tell me. Say it. Say my name, baby.”
“Mmm . . . aaahhh . . . mmm . . .”
“Nah, baby, I want you to say my name.”
“Nic . . . Nicholas.”
“That’s right, baby.”
He slid down her body and found her dripping wet, warm, and wide open. He took full advantage of her position by taking hold of her hips to keep her in place as he licked her clit from top to bottom slowly and softly.
Royce panted for air and rotated her hips. “Mmm, mmm, mmm. Oh, yes, baby. Lick me like a lollipop, Nicholas.”
“I am, baby. I am.”
Waterloo, Sierra Leone
West Africa
Zora looked at the clock on the dresser when the phone rang. She smiled when she thought of her husband and the way he had made love to her the night before. He was an animal, and she had enjoyed every minute of his bedroom performance. The good doctor had kindly given her Saturday morning off so she could rest.
“Good morning, Dr. Benson.” Zora’s brows furrowed when she didn’t get a response from her husband. Instead, she heard heavy breathing and passionate moans on the other end of the call. She sat up in bed when she heard Royce’s voice, clear as a bell. She was encouraging some man to lick her and lick her good. Zora clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She was spazzing out with shock. Her ears began to ring. Royce must’ve accidentally called her while she was having sex. The sound of the bedsprings squeaking and the headboard hitting the wall told her so.
“Yeah, baby! Yesss! Yesss! Yesss!” Royce screamed.
Zora wanted to know who the man called “baby” was. She needed Royce to say his name. At the moment, she was moaning and humming and confessing her love for him. Zora was dying to know who he was. Why wouldn’t Royce say his name? He apparently was a dynamite lover. He must’ve been giving it to Royce like a pro, and she was giving it right back to him. All of his groaning and promises to love her to the end of time told her so. There was lots of howling, grunting, and bed shaking going on. The sounds caused Zora’s belly to twist in knots. Sweat had begun to trickle down the sides of her face. Her heartbeat tripled with anticipation.
Then suddenly, in the heat of the moment, Royce dropped the bomb. “Oh, Nicholaaas!”
Zora heard the name she’d wanted to hear and instantly regretted it. She wished she had been wrong about her suspicions because it hurt like a sharp knife in her heart to be right. She pushed the power button to end the call. She was sorry and very sad now that she’d learned the truth. But she was also highly pissed off.
* * *
“Marry her or perish.”
The last words the older priest had spoken to Father Gregory haunted him in his sleep. He sat up, covered with sweat in the bed, and looked around the room. Memories from last night floated all around him. He and Royce had made love on and off all night long. While they were feeding each other’s passions, he hadn’t thought about God, the priesthood,
or the church. He’d been guilty of living in the moment in the worst way. Nothing and no one else had mattered while he was holding Royce in his arms, screwing her into insanity. He was a lost soul, living in two worlds but not comfortable in either.
“What time is it?”
He looked down at Royce and smiled. “It’s almost four o’clock.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to shower and head home.”
“That’s a good idea. You should be at the parsonage before the other priests wake up.”
Father Gregory nodded and left the bed to prepare for his trip back across town. It was time for him to return to the real world where he was a respected man of the cloth and the shepherd of a flock. But at nightfall, he would once again transform into Royce’s secret lover and disgraced sinner. It was a terrible life he was living, one that was torn and tugging his heart in two totally different directions. Father Gregory was emotionally challenged and spiritually unfit. Yet he refused to leave the priesthood, and living without Royce was no longer an option.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Waterloo, Sierra Leone
West Africa
“Hang up the damn phone right now, Zora!”
She continued dialing with her back to her husband.
Eric reached over Zora’s shoulder and snatched the outdated cordless phone from her hand. He held it behind his back. She turned around and gave him a lethal glare, but he ignored it. Eric was determined to have his say. “Royce is not a child anymore. She’s a grown-ass woman. You are too, so you don’t have any business tattling on your sister like you’re both back in elementary school.”
“Royce may be an adult, but she’s not acting very responsibly these days. I’m not home to stop her, so someone else has to.” Zora held out her hand. “Give me the phone, Eric. I’m going to call my mother to let her know what’s going on. She needs to know what Royce is doing so she can talk some sense into her.”
