by Love Belvin
Ezra pushed off of me to make his way to the door. I knew he was blowing off the topic, but I wasn’t so inclined to demand we continue. I remained in place turning over Precious; what threats she could present and which questions Ezra had not answered about her… like why did they end their relationship. Had he considered an arrangement of marriage with her like he currently had with me? What were his feelings for her? The shit was rattling my nerves and I didn’t know why. One thing was for sure, his parents had regarded Precious like she was a daughter at the wedding.
When Ezra returned from the classified area, he laced my fingers and led me out with him without a word being spoken of our previous conversation. I dropped it. For the moment.
“Hungry?” he asked on our way out of the building.
My brain raced with inquisition, the last thing on my mind was food.
“No.” I shook my head.
Ezra led me into the waiting truck. “Okay,” he continued once he got in on his side. “I guess we’ll get hungry eventually, and now that I no longer have a cook, I can place an order for delivery later on.”
“You had a cook?”
First a driver, now a cook!
As he stared straight ahead, gazing into the traffic Carlos was pulling into, he muttered, “A cook and cleaner, one in the same. I saw no use for her with you and Ms. Remah coming aboard. I know how women can be about their space.”
I had to pick up my slack. I was without a job.
“I’ll cook.”
Ezra’s eyes raked over to mine with shocked humor. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I don’t know what you have in your house, but I could do something simple.”
“Our home,” he corrected with leveling eyes. “Just text me a list and I’ll have it delivered by the grocery store when we hit West Milford.”
Our next stop was Redeeming Souls for Abundant Living in Christ. We entered the church from the rear, and then an elevator near the door. Ezra led me to a seat in the balcony in the fifth row where we were virtually in the shadows of the overhead lights of the sanctuary. I knew Bible study had never been as well attended as Sunday worship, and understood this section was technically closed hence the absence of lights. Nonetheless, we had an unobscured view of the lower level and pulpit.
The praise and worship team was into a ballad when they sang the word ‘worship’ repetitively. Just when I’d decided to peruse the lower level for Lillian, in my peripheral I caught Ezra lowering himself to his knees to pray. Feeling awkward about that perhaps being what I should do when entering the house of worship, I gauchely turned and kneeled. I didn’t do anything while my face was to the seat. I didn’t know how to pray, something I didn’t make public. I decided to just wait out the time for Ezra to finish. When he did, I counted to twenty and then stood. At that point he was swaying to the music, not singing with the choir, but certainly participating in praise. I remained standing until it was appropriate to sit.
“Your iPad,” Ezra murmured to me.
Huhn?
He extended his arm and gestured to my bag.
Oh!
I handed him my device and he tapped a few times before handing it back, requesting my password. I typed it in and he leaned into me, opening a Bible app. Ezra quickly showed me how to search for scriptures. That’s when I recalled him using his device when he preached.
“Thanks,” I whispered, feeling inept.
He paid me a wink before his attention went below. There were a few announcements given by his father, Bishop Carmichael, who took the stage once the singing had ended. As I listened my bladder danced.
Damn…
“I need the ladies room,” I whispered to Ezra.
He stood to allow me to pass him, his eyes still center stage. It took me a moment to recall where the restrooms were on this level. I’d only been up in the balcony once or twice; Lillian always had people hold seats for us downstairs. After using the bathroom, I went to the sinks to wash my hands. That’s when my appearance slapped me dead in the face. I wore yoga pants, a t-shirt and flip flops to church…the church where my new husband was a pastor. Ezra’s ensemble of wheat linen pants and shirt was far more formal then my loungewear. I rolled my eyes at myself in the mirror while tightening my ponytail.
He offered to take you home, but you refused.
I sighed on my way out of the restroom. There was no need to stress over my clothes. Ezra wouldn’t have me here if it was a problem. Once I entered the sanctuary, my positive resolve was rattled. She was sitting in the pew in front of Ezra, body turned in toward him. Her legs crossed over one another, and I could see a sky blue fitted skirt and light green cropped cardigan over a tan shirt that clung to her breasts. Precious’ smile exceeded its usual pageant formation. Tonight it was bristling with contentment and joy as she spoke to Ezra while occasionally scanning the pulpit below. Then her eyes landed on me. I could see the onceover she gave my appearance. I fought to not roll my eyes and continued to my seat.
When Ezra noticed me, he stood to invite me in. I took my seat next to him and Precious tossed me a brief nod over her shoulder, quickly, before going back to observing the stage.
Hmmmmm…
Ezra pulled out a notepad from his satchel as though preparing to take notes in class. I settled into my seat, partially listening to Minister Sewell impart. A petite woman, she was fiery, but not in a charismatic way. She was nervous. She spoke relatively clearly, however her insecurity was revealed in the choppiness of her word delivery when her flow vacillated. Not too bad, but I sympathized with her. I hated public speaking. That was one part of my academic tenure I loathed.
At some point, Precious handed Ezra a piece of paper. A note. He read it immediately and nodded his head. Giddy about his approval, she winked at him, turned back to the stage below smiling frothily. Ezra remained placid, fixedly watching Sewell. Minutes later when Sewell made an analogy about the cross, Precious smiled proudly at Ezra. I didn’t understand why. I was definitely in the middle of an ‘insider’ episode and I didn’t like it.
Bitch, your connection to him can’t be that deep if he didn’t marry you!
My eyes squeezed in shame at the realization of that not being the first time I cursed in my mind in church. I also recognized that piece of advice had only addressed my insecurities and not Precious’ behavior. But I couldn’t help but wonder how old they were when they were fucking. Did Ezra have a beard? Did he prefer her pussy bare to brush his whiskers against it in delicious torture? Did he give Precious orgasms as he’d done me? Did he speak a different language describing the feeling of her caramel legs being wrapped around his waist?
And his waist…
Oh my god! Ezra’s tapered waist had the firmest muscle bubbles just above his hips. I wanna lick every bit of his skin. I wondered how he’d feel about that. My eyes furtively rolled over to him and found Ezra jotting down things on a notepad then tapping on his tablet. His eyes went back to the pulpit. He certainly didn’t resemble the man fucking me deliriously the first few hours of our flight home.
Damn…
I grew aroused in the house of God, rubbing my thighs together. I sat up to reposition myself. Ezra glanced my way and stared at me. His eyes went to my jumpy knees, scrolled up my body and then back to my face. He squinted for seconds long. Then Precious turned back to catch his attention. That’s when I lost him. He continued with Sewell. I forged my way through the remainder of her sermon, annoyed at what sat in front of me and horny as hell from what was to the left of me. Ignoring me.
Just when Sewell transitioned to prayer, Ezra motioned for us to leave. I put my iPad away and when I stood so did Precious.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
Ezra finished packing up his writing equipment and rose from his seat. “Yes. That’s enough for me. I have to get my wife home. It’s been an unbelievably long day for us,” he rasped.
He was spent.
“Can I speak with you for a quick se
c before you leave?” she asked timidly.
Ezra motioned for the nearest door of the balcony. Precious followed him and I sat down even more annoyed. As I waited, I listened while I scolded myself about my recently developed territorial conduct. I was sure that wasn’t what Ezra had in mind when he asked me to marry him. All of those girlish traits couldn’t happen between us. We weren’t in love, only in agreement. In covenant. He could speak privately to whomever he wished. And Precious could continue with her crushing on him. So long as they didn’t fuck, I was good. Bishop Carmichael closing the service snatched me from my self-loathing. He expressed more humor than usual, even made a joke about not being able to wait until his son returned and resumed his responsibilities so that his father could rest his old bones. I guess he didn’t know his son was in the building.
“Beloved,” I heard from behind me.
It was Ezra calling me to leave. We left the church as quietly as we had arrived and crossed over the GWB, heading back to Jersey. En route Ezra was on his tablet, just as engrossed as he was in church. Ironically, I was anxious about a number of things.
“What was so urgent that Precious had to speak to you in private?” I asked over the jazz music flowing in the darkness of the truck.
Ezra’s eyes shifted to the back of Carlos’ headrest before going back to the tablet.
“Apparently she doesn’t know how to receive you,” he replied, disinterested.
“Receive me?”
His eyes appeared. “Yes. She mentioned you didn’t speak to her when you came into the sanctuary.”
“I don’t recall her speaking either,” I hissed.
“Did you expect her to?” His forehead wrinkled as though he was considering that option.
“I don’t know. Maybe because she gave you a formal welcome back when she called you earlier, I could have expected a hello in the least.”
Ezra’s brows hiked as his eyes where in the distance. “Hmmmm… That’s plausible.”
Wa-what?
“Did it bother you that she complained?” I couldn’t gauge his stance on the matter.
“So long as she’s cordial to my wife, I couldn’t care less about her complaints, beloved…or anyone else’s for that matter. I advised her to try her hand at speaking to you next time and perhaps that would help.”
At the earnest look in his eyes, I rolled my neck to the window so he wouldn’t catch my giggle. What in the hell was up with this man. Ezra was so confusing and hard to peg. Just when I thought I’d have to cuss his ass out over homegirl, he basically told me she could go kick rocks. I guessed the mere fact that he didn’t confront me with her grievances should have told me he didn’t care.
As we pulled into the driveway, Ezra yawned and stretched his long limbs awkwardly in the truck. I sighed realizing this would be my home for the unforeseeable future. I lived in a real house. Wow. That was a new thought to chew on as Ezra and Carlos began unloading our luggage. The grocery store delivered the order just as Carlos was pulling off.
“I’ll go put these away and then I have work to do in my office.” He kissed my forehead with arms full of bags. Even this late in the day, Ezra’s scent was potent. “Are you sure you’re up to cooking at this hour?”
I nodded, trying to hide my smirk and made my way into the kitchen. I recalled my way there. I felt like I was at yet another resort, only technically I was to never leave this place. After he placed the paper bags on the counter, Ezra left me in the massive kitchen to my own agenda. I began seasoning the steak and cut red potatoes. After all was prepared, I went up to the master bedroom to shower. My clothes were all packed, either downstairs in the foyer, in the luggage from Kamigu, or boxed in the walk-in closet. I searched his drawers and found something to throw on just to make do.
It took me a moment to figure out how to use his stove, but when I did I broiled a couple of steaks, potatoes and sautéed asparagus. Dinner was ready in no time. I found dishes to plate the food. Just as I’d placed them on the kitchen table, Ezra appeared.
“We eat dinner in the dining room,” he muttered while taking the plates from my hands.
Okay…
I grabbed utensils and napkins then joined him. I noticed the table sat six with no head chairs. Ezra placed our plates at the two center seats.
“Would you like a glass of wine or something else?” He stood, prepared to go back into the kitchen.
That question stumped me. His request was extremely casual. Would it be rude to drink wine at his table? After feeling out of sorts with my clothes earlier at church I decided on the safer option.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I returned just over a whisper.
Ezra left the room without saying anything further. When he returned, it was with two glasses of juice.
“Cranberry,” he offered, taking to the seat across from me. He asked for my hands. Initially, I tensed, not understanding why. He’d been very distant since we left the lab. Disconnected from the man who spent months chasing me to this very point. I didn’t understand that switch, but gave him my hands anyway. “Father, we thank You for this food before us…” Without preamble, Ezra blessed our food.
When he was done with his short prayer I echoed his amen and took to my plate just as he did. We ate in complete silence. Ezra ripping through his food like a famished man. Even that sight turned me on. What was wrong with me? I questioned this as I ate. I had to get it together. I would be living with this man indefinitely. I wasn’t expecting this new level of attraction to my husband. I honestly thought once we’d gotten sex over with I’d discover that Ezra was like any other man who couldn’t turn me on; after a certain amount of time I’d gain a handle on my deep and bizarre attraction to him. Now that draw to Ezra was out of control. We’d fucked like rabbits on the way back to the States and I wanted him again. I was in a haze of fatigue and arousal. It didn’t make sense to me.
Ezra cleaned his plate and sat back, taking a deep breath and stretching his long arms. Then he brushed his beard while inhaling deeply again. He was tired. I was tired. We needed to sleep. Frustrated, I stood and reached over the table to stack his empty plate over mine.
His big hand cupped my wrist. My eyes shot up to his.
“That was delicious, Alexis. Thank you,” he spoke clearly, just a hint of the rasp. I nodded, grateful for his approval, but disappointed at the absence of the kitten moniker. I wanted to be kitten, not Alexis. Then his eyes squinted similar to how they had in church, only this time they darkened. “And you want me to take you again.” I immediately noted that was not a question, rather an acknowledgement. How did he know? My heart began to beat out of my chest and my mouth went dry. “Go upstairs and wait for me. I have to close down my computer and clean the kitchen, then I’ll join you.”
“Skip the kitchen and come up with me,” I quickly replied breathily.
Ezra shook his head. “I believe in order. The kitchen must be addressed.”
His eyes were hard and I noted bossy Ezra had arrived and he wouldn’t back down. I knew it.
“You close up in the office and I’ll straighten up the kitchen,” I conceded, pouting internally.
He nodded and I took off for the kitchen, cleaning at the quickest and most thorough rate I ever had. My body was humming on the way up to his bedroom. Even my feet were seduced by the softness of the carpet once I hit the threshold of the master suit. I wanted him so bad. I waited for nearly twenty minutes before he strolled into the bedroom, scratching his beard, the one I wanted to pull on, clearly exhausted. My breathing hiked. Ezra discarded his shirt, tossing it onto the floor before sauntering over to me near the bed. Then I got lost in the movement of his swollen chest muscles and abs as he neared me.
He took me at the wrists bringing them astride my hips while he circled them. We were close enough to kiss, but he just stared at me directly in the eyes, mesmerizing me with that searing gaze. It was as though Ezra could see clear through me. But what did he see? What did he feel? C
ould he tell that I was still intimidated by his robust frame? That although I craved it—craved him—there was still trepidation there?
Then he snorted. Like humorously snorted and grinned broadly without his teeth showing. What the hell did that mean?
“My shirt,” he observed only an hour later. Didn’t you just have dinner with me? “You’re going to be so good for me. We’ve chosen wisely, kitten,” he groaned.
And at the mention of what could be a derogatory reference to an animal, my head fell back and I moaned. How was he able to intoxicate me with mere words?
Shit!
Ezra’s hand cupped the back of my head, pulling it up to meet his mouth. His lips were on me first. Then his tongue teased inside of my mouth gently with soft strokes. My knees buckled, meeting his legs. That’s when his right hand secured my lower back, keeping me upright. His tongue worked up to firm thrashes before moving wildly as he grinded his erection into my belly. I released a harsh groan.
I withdrew from him and just as soon as I was about to beg for it he pulled my head back toward his face, his lips meeting mine.
“Shhhhhh…” he commanded quietly.
I felt his fingers dancing up the front of my thigh until they were nestled between my slickened lips. I could hear the swipes against my clitoris.
“Oh…” I cried.
“You’re really wet for me, kitten. I was going to try some new foreplay with you, but we need to handle this right away,” he rasped against my face.
Another cry croaked from the back of my throat. He lifted one of my legs to his waist and used his other hand to finger me, rubbing against the lining of my walls. I squeezed to feel all of him, grinding into his arm. He took me roughly at the mouth, his tongue tickling the roof. It almost distracted me from feeling his fingers leave me, but not when he plunged into me. My left leg gave out, but Ezra was buried so deep he didn’t lose footing. I’d never felt pleasure like that. Not at the first stroke. My core quickened, butterflies bursting rampantly. He took me at the shoulder, crossing my back, clasping me to him and thrust into me. His torso dipped and lifted, dipped and lifted, pushing me further and further to the edge. In this standing position, I isolated the sensations: the wide ridge of the head of his dick rubbing a sweet place deep inside; the brushes of his thick, muscular hairy thigh against mine, and my urgent inhales of the scent of this delicious control-freak of a man…