In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2)

by Belvin, Love

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means women attempt styles all the time and miss the key ingredient in pulling it off, which, to me, is confidence. If you sport the look, own it.”

  I turned to face the mirror, analyzing myself. My dark skin, brown eyes, and bushy hair.

  Confidence…

  “Is that what you saw in me?” I asked, crazy curious.

  “If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be here, after two in the morning, with me being entertained by the mere sight of you grooming, Alexis.”

  “Oh…” I emitted almost inaudibly, mind still racing with unanswered revelations and possibilities.

  “Beloved, please hurry. I’d like to fall asleep with you in my arms.” He shifted to move. “Maybe you’ll wake up in the same position,” he teased before leaving the bathroom.

  My mouth dropped.

  Teasing spikes from down below stirred me from my sleep. I inhaled, simultaneously sighing contently, and allowed the undulation in my groin to roll off of me. More warming prickles in my flesh had me arching my back and stretching my arms as I yielded to it. Then I felt a quickening in my core. I smelled a familiar spice engulfing me. Arousing me. My eyes remained closed because I didn’t want to wake from this heated dream. My pelvis thrust in the air, chasing a slithering rolling pattern against my sex. And—

  “Ohhh!” I cried as my body rocked from an implosion. A familiar one that caused my eyes to fly open.

  I glanced down and saw a head full of shiny waves, his big hands gripping my crotch to his face. I hadn’t been dreaming. I’d been awakened by an orgasm. Ezra was blowing against my sensitive flesh, and my body continued to quake in the aftermath.

  Once I was done, he rose from the mattress to his knees. When I saw his hands go for the waist of his boxer briefs I knew one of my favorite visuals was about to occur. His thick, veiny dick jutted out, already dripping at the head. My eyes flew to his face and saw his chin in the air, his thick body carved at every member.

  “Look at me,” he rasped, voice strained from lust. “Do not take your eyes from my face.”

  How could I when his full beard glistened, saturated with my juices? I wanted to taste his lips so bad. When he stretched out over me, laying plank on his hands and knees, I reached for his face, desperate to taste me on him. Ezra yanked his head back, eyes piercing into me as he licked his lips. The bastard knew what I craved, understood what got me off.

  Then he seared into me. Blunt pressure hitting my pussy when he plunged without warning. Ezra took me hard and fast with no preamble. It was not his usual handling, but a method I’d seen of him a time or two. One that I was sickly fond of. There was no coaxing of his girth, only an imprint from his ramming. This was what I called beating the pussy. I wanted to so badly look down into the space that was still between our beating chests and rolling bellies, but he made an order and I wouldn’t dare defy him.

  I lifted my pelvis to invite him into even more of me, if that were possible. I felt greedy, wanting the throbbing from his presence well after we were through. When he took me like this, I was part terrified and wholly thrilled. He was rough with his balls-smacking. Loud was the sound of my slickness against his powerful drives. Immediately, I was lost in his pounding.

  “Look at me!” he growled, eyebrows tightly knitted.

  Shit!

  I must have closed my eyes to allow the sensations to consume me. His arms roped from under my back until his hands clasped my shoulders and he pulled me into his unforgiving drives to the point of pain. He wanted me to throb after, too. Then his lips parted under his beard. Ezra’s thick brows loosened into a straight line. I felt him growing inside of me, his drives turning frenzied. When his eyes fluttered closed he moaned from his belly as he came inside of me.

  I was lost in pleasure—and not from my own orgasm, but from the unadulterated bliss of having him so defenseless and so close, releasing his hot virility inside of me. Ezra howled a new octave, springing a cry I’d never heard from him until now. He rocked slowly into me with no particular rhythm, hips bucking into my core until the last of him was dispersed.

  My heart beat out of my chest and jaw collapsed at the beautiful sight of his exposure to me. He whimpered for seconds after his movements. My shaking arms rose and enclosed on his wide dewy back, my hands roving over the goose bumps that encased his thick frame. He pushed his face into my neck, needy. The more I rubbed with light pressure, the more he’d shiver under my movements. This was a different Ezra. It wasn’t the beast—at least not post-orgasm. He was bare. To me.

  When Ezra’s head rolled up slowly, I was afraid of what I would see. My hand motions slowed. His face appeared and his eyes were slanted as though he were intoxicated. His lips were still parted as he blinked softly. Why was I so anxious? I felt guilty for prying or witnessing his private undoing. My whole body tensed, thighs locked around his wide wings.

  Then he slowly pushed up, wincing as he pulled from me. I fought against the groan shooting from my belly at his width’s departure. Ezra moved off the bed, turned and sauntered off toward the bathroom, leaving me dazed and immobile.

  “So you do have experience in emergency housing and child placement?” Ms. Bethea’s eyes grew, expressively impressed. “And you’re aware of the channels for them?”

  I fought crinkling my brow. “Yes. Much of what we did at the rec was emergency service placements. I still have my contacts with those grant holders and CPS. We tend to form back-door relationships for when the protocol takes too long.”

  “And supervisory skills,” she mumbled to herself.

  This woman couldn’t contain her excitement, though she tried. The phone rang into what was called the Grace Room at Redeeming Souls for Abundant Living in Christ. As she took the call, I tried to relax. So far the process was going well. I was there with Ann Bethea, who was their general human resource person and hiring manager for Christ Cares. After interviewing with her for about thirty minutes she made two calls. One was for Kim Baker, a newly hired social worker to come in and join the interview. I thought that was unusual, but went with the flow. Ms. Baker hadn’t spoken much at this point; just observed my exchange with Ms. Bethea. The second call was to invite another party that was made clear, from what I could gather from her response, would take a while.

  I could now hear Ms. Bethea confirming the other party was on the way. While she was on the call, Ms. Baker spoke up.

  “Was that your only position with the city, Ms. Alexis?”

  “Yes. I was with the rec for almost ten years,” I answered, and saw as Ms. Bethea hung up the phone.

  “I was with CPS since 2001. It got to be too stressful for me in my old age. The system is so broke; we start off with defeat. Do you know Margaret Davis?”

  “Oh, Marge? Yes. We go way back. We had each other on speed dial. She was a great help to our program, a total life saver.”

  “I’ll have to tell her we met.” Kim smiled when she spoke.

  “Make sure you tell her Lex. No one calls me Alexis. It actually sounds strange—”

  “So, Ms. Alexis Grier?” I heard a familiar tenor rasp.

  Not only could I no longer speak, I couldn’t breathe. What is he doing here?

  My body froze in complete shock, so I wasn’t able to turn behind me to confirm it was Ezra coming into the room. He’d never mentioned being in Harlem today, much less being a part of the interview. What the fuck?

  As he rounded the long conference table, his head stayed buried into the file he appeared to be fixated on. I assumed it was my résumé. He wore a blue suit, tailored to fit his large frame, a plaid dress shirt, matching tie and camel dress shoes. His beard was in a far more manicured condition than I last saw it this morning. It was dark, thick and neatly trimmed from his nose to neck. His hair was cut low with pronounced waves. It made no sense how my attraction to Ezra had increased tenfold since waking up in his bed every day. My mouth watered and pulse raced the moment his scent hit me.

&nbs
p; And he wasn’t alone. Right behind him was the bitch growing as a thorn in my side each time I’d see her next to him. Why could he not be on this property without her shadowing him? Now that I could better account for my husband’s time or whereabouts, I wondered should I be concerned with how much time he spent with the princess here. Precious’ hair was swept back into a relaxed ponytail that bounced with each advancement she made behind him. She sported a peach two-piece suit, her skirt fitted just right to carve her femininity, but not enough to call inappropriate. I tried not to roll my eyes. At least I hope I didn’t.

  “Ms. Grier, we usually make our interviews a two event process for prospective clients, but I was so blown away by our earlier talks that I quickly called these two in here to conduct the second interview,” Ms. Bethea explained. “This is the assistant pastor of RSfALC, Mr. Ezra Carmichael. I’m grateful to have caught him today, as he’s an extremely busy man and isn’t here every day.”

  Ezra wouldn’t look at me. His eyes remained convincingly engaged in my resume.

  “Next to him is our second in command for the business branches of the organization, including Christ Cares, Precious Graham. She acts as a liaison between all of the services provided out of RSfALC and reports back to the general church board.” My eyes lazily flitted over to Precious, who had her practiced smile flashing. I returned it without my teeth. “Mr. Carmichael and Ms. Graham will confer on my recommendations for hire. The position you’re applying for is supervisory, so they requested to screen all candidates I approve. I will allow them their questions now.” She nodded and turned her regard over to Ezra, and so did Precious. In fact, everyone did.

  I tried controlling my breathing. What the hell was he going to do if I didn’t answer their questions to his satisfaction? Divorce me? No matter how improbable that sounded, it didn’t relieve my anxiety. Ezra was a man of a certain elegance. He applied order. He’d always operated in deliberation, which is why his presence here concerned me. I had to perform well. Fuck if I got the job: I needed to deliver with dignity and confidence. Otherwise, I may have compromised his respect for me.

  “Well, Ms. Grier,” he pronounced mockingly while still engaged below, flipping through the pages of my résumé and application. “I’m sure Ms. Bethea has gathered the preliminary information to determine your breadth of knowledge as it concerns the Social Services Coordinator role here at Christ Cares, so I won’t bore you with repetition.” He quieted for a moment, seemingly having come across something on there that caught his attention. We waited for a few seconds, the silence stifling. “Interesting résumé here. You either had a skilled composure or you winged it well.” That’s when his eyes met mine, amusement aligned them, but not the type I was included in on. Ezra was clowning me. I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to. The jab was so unexpected. “At any rate,” he continued. “What I would like to ask are questions of matters concerning your availability as it relates to your personal world. Are you married…have children?”

  My eyes bulged. Precious choked on her spit.

  I quickly caught myself and replied, “I don’t see how that’s of any consequence to the job I’m applying for, Mr. Carmichael.”

  His expression was deadpan when he qualified, “Ms. Grier,” there was that inflection of disgust at my name. “Redeeming Souls is the largest church in the state, and one of the largest in the Northeast region of the country. We’re a pillar to our community and have been looked upon to care for the less fortunate in our neighborhood. Currently the percentage of the population living below poverty level in Harlem is between twenty and thirty, according to the U.S. Census Bureau and New York City Planning Department,” he informed evenly and straightened his suit jacket in his seat. His presence and speech were intimidating, terrifying. “What that means is there are still people out there struggling for a warm bed, their next meal, educational opportunities, legal representation, and social advocacy. Their needs do not begin at eight in the morning and end at five in the evening. I need to be sure you’re willing to put in the unexpected hours required to meet the needs of our beloved city.”

  “All of which I’m very aware, Mr.—”

  “All of which can impede upon the well-roped social life of a single woman, Ms. Grier, hence my inquiry. Ms. Baker here, who would be the subordinate in this position, can leave at the end of the day, at a decent hour. But the Coordinator must stay to tend to the business of the day. Would you be able to endure possible twelve-hour days?”

  If I wasn’t careful, I could forget his was the beard buried in my pussy just a few hours ago, pulling an orgasm from my sleeping body. It dripped of me. He was saturated with me. This motherfucker had just flipped the script. I didn’t want to answer the question of my marital status. It was clear to me that the only one outside of Ezra and me who knew we were married was Precious. I’d won over Ann independent of my relationship to her boss. I now questioned if Ezra was trying to sabotage my interview.

  Suddenly, I thought of our chess games. We played together, at least, weekly. It was the only time I could have his exclusive attention outside of fucking. Ezra often applied life experience as rules of engagement on the board. He said time and time again, when you learn your opponent, you can accurately predict their next move.

  “No,” I uttered, expression just as impassive as his.

  “No?” his head pushed back, slightly.

  “I’m afraid to inform you that you’re wrong, Pastor Carmichael,” I jabbed back, understanding he hated that title in most instances. It worked because his eyes widened, unusually. “The role of social services is not twelve hours a day. Similar to that of the pastor of a church, the job most often never ends. And contrary to your example of Ms. Baker leaving at her appointed time, she would not under my supervision. It takes a team to provide services to the underserved. If her or any of my subordinates’ roles were required, they’d stay with me until the need was met. So, I disagree that job can be fit into a timeframe, but can most certainly assure my availability and dedication to this role if I were hired.”

  My breathing was erratic and I struggled to hide it. My heart was racing in my chest and mouth completely dry.

  “Very well,” he murmured, nodding amicably then returned to my résumé and printed application. “What makes you think your qualifications can justify the salary on the table?”

  That crisp question caused Ms. Bethea to clear her throat, her posture expressing her discomfort.

  “Excuse me?” I asked with less than normal confidence.

  “I see here on your CV you just recently earned your degrees. That’s two degrees at once, not just your Master’s after gaining a Bachelor’s like most professionals do. And here on your application”—He shuffled the papers—“you state you earned a humble forty one thousand a year.” What the hell… “The position offers sixty-seven thousand a year. How can you justify the twenty-six-thousand-dollar leap in salary with no academic application to your tenure?” He sat back expectantly.

  Precious’ shocked eyes roved from Ezra to me, as did Ms. Baker’s and Ms. Bethea’s.

  I swallowed hard. My thighs trembled underneath the table.

  “My heart.” I licked my lips and focused on my husband. “In this field you have to have the heart to be lied to, cried to, and cussed the fuck out.”

  Precious gasped. “Ms. Grier, Christ Cares is a religious-based organiz—”

  With the lifting of one finger while his eyes were glued to me, Ezra silenced her rebuke.

  “Please let her continue without further interruption,” he rasped. “Ms. Grier.” He nodded toward me. “Continue.”

  And I did, no longer giving a fuck about getting the job. I needed to think about the balance of my home if I didn’t stand my ground.

  “Instead of responding in kind, you have to wear armor to get the job done, in spite of your feelings for the person you’re servicing. I know you must treat everyone the same and work your ass off to plug them into whatever services
required to meet their need. This may call for you giving your last dime, your clothes to a crying baby whose mother has been told there are no more beds available at Palladia or Residence. It may mean you using your personal resources to check them into a hotel where Bobby, the baby’s daddy, can’t find the mother and beat the shit out of her for leaving in the middle of the night. It may mean calling in a favor to Bradley West, whom you used to fuck and promised a date with him if he’d represent Pookie, your client, who can’t seem to keep from sticky-gloving it at the local bodegas, but whom you see the next Stenton Rogers in.” My nose flared as my neck jerked.

  “It takes heart to take on the city’s needs. I hope you recognized that, considering you’re handling their spiritual needs by shoving God down their throats and asking for a monthly stipend of ten percent of their earnings in the next breath. I’m here to help them live to fight another day. To preserve their Harlem Pride. It’s what I live, eat, and breathe. That’s what I bring, Pastor. My heart.”

  The room went quiet. A feather drop could be heard. Ezra’s pupils were glued to mine as we eye-warred. In fact, I was almost sure all eyes were on me. I couldn’t give two fucks. This was status quo for us. It’s what we did. And today would be no different. I was no punk, not even in Ezra’s world.

  I don’t know how long we were at it, but I would not lose.

  Suddenly, Ezra sat up, took a deep breath and let it out casually. Ms. Baker’s eyes and body sat stiffly in the seat as though she’d just seen a murder go down. Ms. Bethea’s movements were antsy in her chair. And Precious’ mouth hung open.

  “Okay. That’s it for me.” He regarded Ms. Bethea. “Ann, Ms. Grier here has answered all of my questions satisfactorily. I’ll send you my feedback by the end of the business day.” He glanced over to a stoic Precious. “Do you have any questions for this candidate?”

  Precious’s eyes hit mine. I popped my neck back, highly roused, prepared to take her on, too. I was livid.

  She shook her head. “Ummm…no. Nothing. I’ve seen enough.” She slowly pushed back in her seat.