us and kissed me. It was a slow, sweet kiss, with his hands folded over mine. My heart flipped somersaults in my chest. I was stunned he wanted to touch me, after seeing me with Xavier like that. But maybe—maybe he meant it. Maybe he really did believe it wasn’t my fault.
Priest pulled away and tipped his forehead against mine.
“It made me so fucking mad seeing that footage,” he admitted in a whisper. My heart sank, but before I could say anything, he pressed his lips together then said, “I was furious that he’d violate you like that. Recording without your knowledge. And I felt really—possessive. Like he didn’t deserve to have footage of you. I just went into a rage.”
“That’s what made you want to go kick his ass?” I asked. “This footage?”
“Yeah,” Priest said. “And I still do. I’ve postponed it, but I still want to kick his ass.”
I smiled and huffed a laugh. I’d agreed to do this the legal way, following Rebel’s instruction, but honestly… something about having Priest all fired up and wanting to fight for me turned me on. Made me feel cared for, that he wanted to defend my honor.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” I said. “And, you know, I’m still president. So I get a say.”
“Good,” Priest said. “You’ll have to help me plead my case to Gunnar. Later, though.”
“Later?” I asked.
“Right now, I want to take care of you,” Priest said. “Can I?”
My heart swooped in my chest. There was so much tenderness in his voice—it was different than the previous times we’d had sex. It didn’t feel so playful. It felt like it meant something, and I wasn’t sure what to do with that.
Before I could think about that too hard, he kissed me again, driving all the worries from my mind.
“Yeah,” I murmured into the kiss. “Please.”
This was exactly what I needed. Seeing the footage Xavier had secretly taken made me feel violated and used. Dirty. And Priest kissed me in a way that made it obvious he didn’t think that was the case at all. He made me feel—cherished. Like what we had mattered. Like I mattered. He didn’t want me for some deluded fantasy of what he thought I was, like Xavier did. He knew me—all of me. And still treated me with this much genuine sweetness and care.
Priest took my hand in his and guided me to my feet, and kept my hand wrapped in his as he led me up the stairs to his bedroom. There was no urgency in the motion, just promise. He was going to take care of me.
He tugged me across the threshold into the bedroom and closed the door behind us. I still partially expected him to kiss me like he usually did—with hunger and force and playfulness, starting a battle for dominance. But instead, he just set his hands at my hips and kissed me slowly and thoroughly. I sighed into the kiss, knees going a little weak and watery. Standing at the foot of the bed, Priest slowly pushed my jacket off my shoulders, then tugged my shirt overhead. He ran his hands over my chest attentively, adoringly, his touch light but intense as he traced the curve of my pecs, my waist, my abs.
“Get on the bed?” he asked. Then his fingers dipped into the waistband of my jeans. “And out of these?”
I nodded, breaking the kiss with some reluctance to shuck off my jeans and lie back into the bed. I folded my arms behind my head, comfortable in just my underwear as Priest stood at the foot of the bed, watching me. He ran his hand down my shin to my ankle, tracking the bone there, like he couldn’t stand to have his hands off me for more than a few moments.
The affection of the gesture made desire roll through me, slow and heady. I’d never had a partner look at me this way: with so much intensity and desire and something deeper I wasn’t sure how to name. His warm blue eyes traveled hungrily over my body. The way he looked at me made me feel sexy, desired, and I stretched a little on the bed, just to see the way his gaze followed the shifting of my abs.
Priest tugged off his own clothes quickly, tossing them carelessly aside until he was standing naked at the foot of the bed, with all that gorgeous muscle on display. He was so broad, barrel-chested, chest