The Priesthood Affair (2)

by Tiana Akachi Ifenkwe

They both got into the car and in few minutes, they were on the highway. She was too quiet and was too shy to look at him, he observed. He turned to look at her but she didn’t even notice or she did and pretended not to notice. He rubbed her palm with his free hand. She withdrew her hand slowly, still too shy to look at him.

“I wanna possess you” he blurted out. Now she turned to look at him. She stared at him questioningly. He knew what she was going to say and he wasn’t going to allow her says. He knew what those eyes were asking. He knew that if he turned to look at her now, she wouldn’t look away because she wanted answers, answers to the questions in her head. He could see her from his side eye. He looked at her regardless and she looked away. He chuckled. He must have underestimated her.

“Let me love you, Rita. Let me love you the way you want to be loved.”

She looked away. A lump was forming in her throat again. She wanted to talk but couldn’t. He stopped by somewhere to get refreshments and they continued their journey. In few minutes, they arrived at his apartment. He got down immediately to open the door for her. What a gesture, she thought. No man had ever treated her like this or maybe he’d change after he f**k her.

Damn! Where did that thought come from? Was she really going to sleep with him? Did she just use the f-word for him? She was beginning to fall for him and feared it might happen. She walked with him into the house, into his office which had a bedroom by the side. He brought two glasses and poured out the drink he bought.

“You take alcohol?” He asked pouring out the drink.

“Y, yes…,” she voiced out. “Not much though” He smiled and offered her a glass.

“Are you comfortable here or you’d like to come with me to the sitting room?” He asked.

She stood up immediately. She wasn’t comfortable with him in this small space. The sitting room would be better. He already knew she wouldn’t be comfortable here since his bedroom was close by so he took her hand and led her to the sitting room.

“You need to be free with me, my petit.”

She smiled, that was what he had called her the first time they met. She was small. Okay, she should try to loosen up. She looked around the well furnished house that had a portrait of Jesus and other saints here and there. She stood up to go admire one of the paintings. A saint holding a walking stick looking at the sun, a church and mountains in the background. She studied it for a few minutes while sipping her drink.

“Who is this?” She turned to look at Onyi. He was going through some papers. He looked up when she asked the question.

 “Oh that’s Saint Francis Of Paola,” he answered.

She went back to join him on the couch. He dropped the papers he was going through and with him free hand, he caressed her cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” Her eyes widened and she gulped down the remaining of her drink and poured out more because she didn’t want to say anything.

He chuckled. “Slow down on that, it’s alcohol, unless you’re a drunk,” he said laughing. He did that so easily like he had not just touched a nerve. Her nerve.

A kiss? She would die if she kissed him. She gulped down another glass of wine and she felt herself getting tipsy. He noticed but didn’t say anything.

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