Love's Broken Vow Page 8

  “You’re right. Forgive me for being intrusive.”

  “Why are you here anyway?”

  Father Gregory looked at Royce head-on, and she nearly melted from the fire she saw in his eyes. No other man on the planet could stare her into submission like he was doing at the moment. Royce was no longer angry with him for almost scaring her to death or prying into her private life. Her body had betrayed her and so had her mind. She closed her eyes and exhaled, trying with all her mental power to recall the words he’d said to her the night of Tyler’s release from jail. They were never to be alone again. He would not touch her ever. He would not fall into sexual temptation. Royce suddenly snapped out of her state of horniness and pulled herself together.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  Royce raised both hands and shook her head. “No! No! No! I won’t allow you to drag me through an emotional obstacle course. You wanted me. Then you didn’t want me. Now, all of a sudden, you want me again? I can’t handle this. You laid down the rules, and we’re going to abide by them, damn it. Get out of my house!” Royce raced to the door and opened it wide.

  “Are you sure you want me to leave?” He reached out and traced her cheek with his index finger.

  Royce bristled and backed out of his reach. She wanted Father Gregory to leave, but she also wanted him to stay forever. Her heart and every inch of her flesh yearned for his presence and his fiery touch, but her mind flashed warning signs. A battle of want versus wisdom raged on the inside. If she allowed him to stay, they would make love for sure. And once again, they would tumble through the painful cycle of guilt, shame, and repentance. The talk would come next. “We can’t ever make love again, Royce. I am a priest, and I’ve made a vow to God and the church.” Royce could hear those words resonating in her ears. They stabbed her heart. She refused to sit through another torturous conversation with Father Gregory about his spiritual dilemma. It wasn’t fair for him to make love to her under the moonlight and then, at the break of dawn, lecture her on how sinful what they’d shared had been. Her heart couldn’t take it.

  The emotional dam broke. Fresh tears flowed down her face. “Leave.”

  Father Gregory crossed over the threshold into the cold darkness, and Royce moved to push the door shut behind him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Before the door slammed shut, Father Gregory turned around quickly and stopped it with his hand. He reentered the house and gave the door a hard shove to close it like a man on a serious mission. He pulled Royce into his arms and kissed her forehead. She pressed her palms against his chest as if she were trying to ward him off, but he used his strength to draw her closer. His lips captured hers in a ravenous kiss. Royce moaned, giving Father Gregory’s tongue full access to hers. His hands roamed over her curves, caressing her back, waist, and hips. He gripped her round bottom with both massive hands. She responded by rotating her hips to grind her lower body against his firm penis. He pressed his hardness into the softness between her thighs.

  Father Gregory eased his hands downward and gathered the red fabric of Royce’s dress. He pulled the short skirt up above her hips. His fingertips skidded over her silk pantyhose and massaged her butt. Their kisses grew hotter and wilder with every twirl of Royce’s tongue teasing his. The scent of vanilla on her velvety skin sharpened his manly senses. Father Gregory shifted their bodies until he had pinned Royce’s back against the wall. He lowered his lips to lick and suck her neck. He tugged at her pantyhose with both hands, lowering them to her kneecaps. Then he executed the same movement on her thong. His hands trembled slightly and tingled when they made direct contact with her bare flesh. He palmed each firm butt cheek and growled out his need.

  He dropped to his knees and buried his face in the wet and hairy spot he’d dreamed about since his first taste of its sweetness. The fabric of Royce’s dress fell and covered the top of Father Gregory’s head, but he wasn’t distracted. He separated the lips of her vagina with his fingers, exposing its stiff, drenched clit. He flicked it with his tongue and immediately felt Royce’s hands grab his head. She whimpered and cooed as he licked and suckled her sensitive bud. He snaked his tongue inside of her and curled it gently in and out of her wet walls before he slid it back to her clit, licking it. With each stroke of his tongue, he felt Royce’s entire body shiver. As he licked, her body ticked. A tick for a lick continued until Royce’s knees seemed to buckle, causing her body to sway. She jerked, seemingly out of control, and showered Father Gregory with verbal appreciation.

  “Oooh, baby . . . baby . . . baby!” Royce half sang and half shouted. “Mmm, baby!”

  Father Gregory stood and reached behind Royce to unzip her dress. He tugged on the fabric, freeing her arms from the sleeves, and allowed the dress to fall to her ankles. She kicked out of her red pumps as he yanked her stockings and thong from her knees to her ankles. Royce fidgeted her way out of both undergarments. Father Gregory lifted her naked body off its feet, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “If your room is upstairs, we might not make it,” he whispered as he massaged her bare ass.

  “We have to go upstairs to my room because that’s where the condoms are.” Royce kissed his neck. “No more risky business.”

  Without any further discussion, Father Gregory put his muscles to good use by carrying Royce across the foyer to the bottom of the spiral staircase. She released her legs from his waist and slid to her feet. She started up the steps, but Father Gregory picked her up again and carried her.

  “Which way?” he asked when they reached the top.

  Royce chuckled and pointed to their left. Father Gregory hurried down the hall and entered the dark master suite. He placed Royce in the middle of the king-sized sleigh bed. She rolled over, reaching toward the nightstand. She opened the drawer and found a row of condoms.

  “Come here.”

  Father Gregory tossed the jacket and sweatshirt he’d just taken off on the bench at the foot of the bed. He licked his lips and smiled. Royce was impatient, and amazingly it intensified his erection. He removed his sweatpants and boxers and joined her on the bed. They embraced. He ran his fingers through her braids and sucked her bottom lip, and she rubbed her soft hand up and down his stiff penis.

  “Royce . . . Royce, ah . . . Royce . . .” he mumbled, tossing his head from side to side on the stack of pillows.

  Royce lowered her head to Father Gregory’s crotch and licked the head of his penis in slow motion. Her tongue traced the perimeter of the sensitive tip nice and slow as she continued stroking the rigid length of him. His heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer as air swooshed from his lungs. He squealed out Royce’s name in a pitch that was too high to be his, he thought. It was unrecognizable to his ears. He was caught up in sexual euphoria, beyond bliss.

  Royce lifted her head. She straddled Father Gregory. “Sit up, baby,” she ordered, reaching over to place extra pillows behind his back.

  She picked up the row of condoms from the bed, removed a single packet, and ripped it open with her teeth. By the light of the moon, Father Gregory watched her roll the condom over his solid manhood. He was pleasantly surprised when she raised her hips and eased her hot, wet vagina down on his penis, taking him in completely. Royce began to roll and bounce her hips up and down unhurriedly at first. Then she picked up her pace, very much to Father Gregory’s delight. He matched her motions with powerful upward thrusts. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto his lap with force as he pushed deeper into her walls. Royce cursed and bounced. Father Gregory bucked and hummed. The tempo increased, rocking the bed. The headboard tapped against the wall like an African drum beat. Their joint ride to the stars and beyond was exhilarating.

  Royce threw her head back, causing her long braids to spill down her back and graze her bottom. “I love you.”

  Father Gregory’s body stiffened when her walls began to contract around his hardness. They clen
ched and released him repeatedly as Royce’s body convulsed. She whispered her declaration of love again. He rolled over on the bed without breaking the connection, reversing the position of their bodies. The stack of pillows toppled. He looked down into Royce’s face and smiled. He kissed her tenderly as he slid in and out of her body. She gripped his butt, pulling him in deeper. He continued pumping in and out of her, grunting with every stroke. Royce tightened her inner muscles around his penis and rotated her hips. At last, a climax more explosive than dynamite ripped through every muscle in his anatomy. Father Gregory gritted his teeth against the breathtaking spasms and panted for air. His body gave way to the wonderful sensations. He lowered his full weight on Royce’s body while he struggled to catch his breath. Seconds later, he rolled over, a satisfied man with the woman who loved him in his arms.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The empty spot in Royce’s bed caused a dull ache in her chest. She rolled over and inhaled the deserted pillow. The masculine scent lingering on the Egyptian cotton brought back vivid memories of last night. Her and Father Gregory’s lovemaking marathon had been quite an experience. They’d carried on like a pair of dogs in heat. At one point Royce became overly exhausted and was in need of something cool to drink. Father Gregory, a self-proclaimed Windy City gentleman, didn’t hesitate to run downstairs in his birthday suit to get her a bottle of guava juice. A vision of his naked body floated through her memory. Royce appreciated the vibrant image, but it reminded her that he had left her bed and her home without saying goodbye.

  She closed her eyes and pressed her face deeper into the pillow, taking in the scent that was uniquely his. Royce loved him, and she had told him as much. It hadn’t been a planned confession. It just kind of slipped out at a time when Father Gregory was hitting her spot so good that her brain took a snooze. Her mental filter had gotten clogged up, and she couldn’t hold the words inside another second. The feelings she’d been nurturing secretly in her heart had spilled out in her actions as well as her words. Now, Royce was vulnerable and sad, but she had no regrets. If last night was the final time she’d ever share her body and soul with Father Gregory, she would cherish it for life. At least he knew how she truly felt about him. She had blessed him with a special gift that he was never supposed to have had: the love of a woman.

  Royce hugged the pillow tighter, wishing it were Father Gregory. No man had ever made her feel as special as he had. They hadn’t known each other long at all, and there were so many things they still didn’t know about one another, but he had touched her heart. Royce felt like crying for the life she would never have with Father Gregory, but she smiled instead for the snatches of passion they’d shared.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  Royce opened her eyes and sat straight up in the bed at the sound of his voice. Father Gregory walked into the bedroom, looking refreshed and sinfully handsome wearing only his black boxers. There was a tray of food in his hands. Two coffee mugs of what Royce hoped was tea sat steaming on the tray as well. It was a scene out of a dream. After an incredible night of the best sex she’d ever experienced in her life, the man she adored was now serving her breakfast in bed. A girl couldn’t ask for anything better than that.

  “I’m starving,” she said after a few seconds of silent shock.

  “Great.” Father Gregory placed the tray on the nightstand and picked up one of the mugs. He handed it to Royce. “I ransacked your kitchen until I found the teabags. You’re out of honey. I used the last of it in your cup. You’re not a fan of sugar. I took notice the night of Tyler’s sleepover.”

  Royce chanced a sip of her tea. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope you like hash brown potatoes with bell peppers and onions. I scrambled a few eggs and sprinkled some shredded cheddar cheese over them.”

  “It smells good.” Royce took the plate of food and the fork he offered her. She eyed her meal. “I see you found my turkey sausage links, too. I don’t usually share them, but I’ll be nice today.” She sampled the potatoes and scooped up a forkful of eggs and tasted them. “Mmm, it’s delicious. Who taught you how to cook like this?”

  Father Gregory folded his arms over his bare chest and stared down at Royce. “When you’re single, living away from home with very few friends and none of them are female, you learn certain survival skills. Cooking and washing my own clothes were the first two chores I experimented with. I didn’t get either one right the first couple of times, but I eventually learned how to rattle the pots and separate white clothes from colored ones in time with much practice.”

  “Well, I’m enjoying my breakfast. But you better not think about washing my clothes.” Royce pointed the fork in his direction for emphasis. “Essie takes care of my laundry just fine.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t try to send your housekeeper to the unemployment line.”

  “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I ate two slices of wheat toast and an apple. Breakfast is my least favorite meal of the day. I can take it or leave it.” He picked up the other cup of tea and took a sip. “I wanted to feed you before I showered and returned home.”

  Relief washed over Royce. Father Gregory’s thoughtfulness warmed her heart, but she didn’t want to read too much into it. He wasn’t moving in or even asking her to go steady. It was just breakfast. He was being considerate. However, she expected any minute for him to go into his regular post-sex spiel about the priesthood and his vow to God and the Roman Catholic Church. Royce knew it by heart. She braced herself for the throbbing jab.

  “You said you were out riding your bike last night. What kind of bike is it?”

  “It’s a Harley.”

  “I didn’t see it. Where did you park it?”

  “It’s on the side of your house in the bushes.”

  “You hid it,” Royce said flatly, slightly annoyed that she suddenly felt like a closet whore.

  “I respect your privacy,” Father Gregory explained. “Caution was my utmost concern. No one except the guard at the gate knows who I am around here. This is your neighborhood. I’m sure your reputation in the community is favorable. I’d like it to remain that way.”

  Royce nodded and placed her half-eaten plate of food on the tray. She understood Father Gregory’s way of thinking. She even appreciated his concern. It seemed authentic enough. But a fly kept buzzing in her ear, telling her it was his reputation he was worried about and not so much hers. Either way, their affair or whatever was happening between them was top secret for understandable reasons, even though they were two consenting adults acting of their own free will.

  “Don’t let me keep you here. It’s Saturday. I’m sure you have a million things to do in preparation for the noonday mass tomorrow. I think I’m going to relax today. I don’t work on weekends unless there’s an emergency. Tabatha, my company’s executive manager, is very efficient in my absence.”

  “I feel like I’m being dismissed.”

  “I would never dismiss you. It’s just that I’m a big girl and I know the drill. You don’t need to sing me the same song twice.”

  Father Gregory placed his mug on the nightstand and sat down on the bed next to Royce. He draped his arm around her shoulders. “If there were any way we could be together as a couple in a meaningful relationship, there would be no reason for discretion. Surely, you must know that, Royce.”

  “What I know is I’m in love with my priest! And we are having a sexual affair. Both times we made love, I lost a piece of my soul to you! When you leave me here alone today, I’ll go through withdrawal just like a drug addict does after coming down from a high. You, on the other hand, have mastered the technique of emotionally detaching yourself from me whenever you’re wearing your clergy collar and listening to confessions of other people’s sins. I can’t do that!” Royce patted her chest and broke down in tears. “I can’t hide my feelings. They’re real.”

  “It’s not easy for me either, sweetheart. Whenever I look at you, no
matter where we are or who’s around, I want to take you in my arms and show you affection. It bothers me that I can’t take you out to dinner or for a walk in the park or a movie out of fear that someone from the church will see us. We would be judged harshly.”

  “It’s not okay for us to date because a priest shouldn’t be in the company of a woman unless it’s for her spiritual edification. Yet last night you made love to this woman,” she reminded him through tears with her hand still on her chest. “God saw you. He saw us, Father Gregory. Is it better to sin in the dark away from the accusing eyes of man while under the all-seeing eyes of God than it is to sin openly before man and God?”

  “Sin is sin whether we’re making love in secrecy or committing murder in broad daylight. God sees it all. However, because I’m a priest, I have a higher calling. I’m responsible for the souls of hundreds of other people, Royce. God requires much more of me than He does of you because of that. Of course, I’m not expected to be perfect, but there are certain things I should never indulge in. That’s why our situation is unique and complicated. There’s no solution or compromise for us. I’m sorry.”

  “There is a solution,” Royce whispered with tears in her eyes.

  “Are you asking me to choose? Is that what you want me to do, Royce? You expect me to choose between you and God and the church?”

  “No. I would never ask you to do that. But what if by some fluke or miraculous act, you were granted the power and right to choose? Would you remain a priest or would you free yourself to have a life with me?”

  “I refuse to answer that ridiculous question, Royce. It’s sacrilegious.”

  Father Gregory got up from the bed and gathered his clothes. Royce watched him dress in silence. She was physically and emotionally numb, yet her tears kept falling. The words she needed to say were on the edge of her teeth, but her heart wouldn’t allow her to speak. She was dying a slow emotional death, but she wanted to live.