My voice is firm, a contrast to how broken I feel inside.
“But let this be the last time you have doubts because if you choose to leave me again, I won’t come back if you change your mind.”
“I’m not conflicted, damn it,” he snarls, spinning me so my back presses against the door. “I want you! I just hate how badly I’m hurting everyone else. Do you get that?”
“Of course I get that, but you need to get over it and move on because it’s going to tear us apart.”
I empathize with him. Of course I do. But if he’s made his decision he needs to settle on that decision.
“Nothing is going to tear us apart,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. “Nothing.”
“You say that and then in a few days when you tell her that you’re moving on, you come to me with more scratches and guilt and decide to leave me.”
“I’m not leaving you,” he insists and then crushes his lips to mine. “I’m happy. You make me so fucking happy. But sometimes in my grief and guilt I forget that. I forget how badly I wanted you. How much I craved you. I’m not letting you go. Not a chance. Not for all the money in the world.”
“You love her too.”
“I do, but I don’t need her like I need you.”
I grip his cock between us and his eyes flare. “Show me how much you need me,” I breathe against his lips.
He dips, shoves my skirt up to my waist, lifts my thigh and with a bit of tugging he pulls his cock free and slams home making me cry out from the force.
“I want you forever. I want to fuck you every single day. I want to taste your sweet lips. I want to fill your womb with my seed and create a life tied to both of us.” He thrusts with each statement, grinding his pelvis against my clit, kissing my neck and whispers the words against my skin. “You’re everything I ever want and need.”
“I love you,” I breathe. “I want to be the only woman you ever need.”
“You are.”
“Then fuck me, prove it, mark me.” I bite into his neck and suck so hard I just know there’s going to be a ring of red there when I lift my head. He cries out and pummels me with his hips, fucking me so furiously the door bangs with each thrust.
We come together, clinging to each other as our orgasms spiral into one. His cock pulses, my pussy clenches, our breathing is haggard, and our hearts are synchronized.
“We need to stop fighting over this,” he mumbles, “I don’t want to fight with you. What can I do to reassure you that you’re all I want?”
“You can’t, not until your divorce is final and we’re open with the world. Until then I’m going to panic every day that it’s my last day with you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
His pain… he’s not afraid to feel it.
“I’d love to stay and chat,” I say, my tone deep and manly as I hold a lock of my hair across my upper lip. “But I really mustache.”
Ezra throws his head back with laughter and yanks my hair from my fingers. His eyes sparkle with amusement when they search my face. “You’re in such a good mood.”
I skip around him like a happy little lamb and throw a box of Lucky Charms into the shopping cart. I pick up a second box and point to the words in the middle. “One could say you can’t resist my charms.”
He chuckles and takes that box off me, only to put that one in the cart with the rest of the food.
His arm snakes around my shoulders and he pulls my head to his lips which soften against my temple.
We’re just getting a few things, enough to last us until we leave on our vacation in six days. My lucky number.
We head directly to the fresh produce where he baulks over the quality of some of the veg. He picks up a healthy-looking carrot after digging through some not so healthy ones.
“Oh look, honey,” I declare loudly, picking up a sprouting potato. “The potatoes are rooting for us.”
He groans dramatically and throws the carrot he was holding at my chest.
Giggling, I catch it, toss it into the cart and stand on the end like a child, making him push me. I hold his eyes, a smile tightening my cheeks. He’s so handsome with his gray eyes, chiseled jaw, thick, tame brows, a nose with a slight crook in it that one wouldn’t notice if they hadn’t spent hours examining his features like I have.
“You’re such a child,” he comments but he’s joking, he loves it when I get giddy like this which these days is more and more often.
“Bitch, peas,” I say, grabbing a bag of the tiny green vegetables as we pass. “I’m…” Damn it. I can’t think of anything. I spy strawberries and cringe as I say, “Strawesome?”
“That was terrible.”
“I don’t see you doing any better.”
He reaches into the cart. “You’re a real pizza work.” I look at the pepperoni pizza in his hand and jump off the cart end, then I round it and throw myself at him, pressing my lips to his while giggling. “What did I say?”
“You’re just…” I lean back and bite my lip, beaming so brightly my entire face aches. “I just love you. Promise me we’ll always be this happy. We won’t become cranky and obsessed with making life hell.”
“I promise,” he replies, smiling just as fondly.
“Good.” I take the cart and push it ahead, passing a stack of promotional alcohol as we head to the checkout. “Life without you would be unbearable.”
He slaps my ass so hard it echoes and stings. I almost scream but instead just throw a carrot at his head while rubbing my sore rear with my other hand.
“I’ll kiss it better for you later,” he whispers in my ear and nips the lobe.
When his phone starts to ring, I take control of the cart again and watch him answer it out of the corner of my eye.
“Talk to me.” His smile falters. “Is it about Maria? Then no… I said no, Elizabeth—” I join a line of people waiting to be served and start placing our shopping on the conveyer belt. “No. We will talk at the hearing. Other than that, you can’t keep doing this… because it’s over that’s why. I’m hanging up now.” He tucks his phone away, stares at it for a beat, closes his eyes, inhales, I wait for him to count to six and then he smiles at me. “Where were we?”
I throw myself at him again, kissing his face, his lips, his nose… just everything.
He deepens it, pushing his tongue into my mouth, dancing it across my own in a more than pleasant way. We don’t separate until somebody clears their throat.
“Oops,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks heat.
He chuckles into my neck and we move along, placing our purchases into paper bags.
I’m not sure I could be any happier than I am right now. Well… I guess I could be when everything calms down and I make friends with his family again.
Speaking of his family, I did send Izabella a text telling her how sorry I am, but she never replied. I didn’t expect her to. This is going to be a difficult process, but I know when they see how much love Ezra and I share they’ll understand why we did what we did.
We head home with our groceries in the trunk, holding hands over the console like teen lovers. He listens to me chat animatedly about work and Laurie and whatever else jumps to mind, a gentle smile on his face the entire time.
Back in the apartment we put our shopping away side by side, and when done he lifts me by my hips onto the counter and we share a slice of delicious carrot cake. He feeds me it, giving himself a bite and then me and I wonder how I ever got so lucky.
“I forgot to tell you that Kylie dropped off some garment bags this morning, I hung them up in your side of the closet.”
His eyes light up. “Those are for you, not me. For our getaway.”
“Bikinis?” I question, smirking at the devilish look on his face. He nods yes and slides his hands up my thighs. “I love how much you love to look at my body.”
“You’re perfection, my own, real, personal adult magazine. I used to have women who look lik
e you plastered over my bedroom walls as a teen.” He sucks on my lower lip. “Every night I’d fantasize about pushing my cock into them as their heels dug into my ass.”
“Is that why you like it when I wear heels?”
“That and the way your thighs look.” He dips his head and sucks on my neck, swirling his tongue around the mark there. His fingers drag up the grooves of my thighs, the muscles that I’ve gained from how much walking I do and how often I hit the gym in our flashy new apartment building.
I groan and then giggle when he starts pinching and squeezing.
Soon I’m finding it hard to breathe as he tortures me with his prodding fingertips.
Then he stops, leaving me panting and tingly. “Don’t tickle me.”
“But your snorting is so adorable.” He kisses the tip of my nose and picks up the cake. “As much as I’d like to ravish you again, I know you’re hungry. You need more sustenance than cake.”
“Sausage?” I question, grasping his hard cock through his jeans.
Growling, he yanks me off the side and deposits me on the tiled floor. “Behave.”
“I don’t want to. We can eat later.”
He laughs as I assault him, trying to push my hand into his pants. I only stop when he pins me up against the fridge, his chest against mine. “I don’t know what you see in me, a man with thirteen years on you—”
“And a half.”
He narrows his eyes on me and pinches my nose between his fingers. “But I’m grateful all the same… Little shit.”
“I’m keeping you,” I tell him firmly. “I’m never letting you go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
“Stop it,” Laurie admonishes, slapping my hands which are beating the table to music in my head. “Relax, will you?”
“I can’t. It’s too intense. I need to know what’s happening.”
Ezra went to his hearing five hours ago and he’s telling his wife about us after. The hearing should have only taken an hour or two… the rest will obviously take some time too.
Five hours is just too much.
Laurie has to leave soon and she’s failing at distracting me.
I’ve packed and unpacked my suitcase a dozen times too. Ezra and I don’t leave until the morning after tomorrow, but I like to be prepared.
I’ve run out of things to keep me busy. It has been such a rough few days since our argument and then this, but things between Ezra and me have been amazing otherwise. We’re both excited to go away and put this all behind us.
Ezra: I’ll be there in five.
I look at my phone and then grab Laurie by her shoulders. “You’ve gotta go.”
“He’s on his way?”
I nod eagerly, excitedly. That massive weight is finally lifting from my shoulders. We can be open now. He can slowly bring Maria around to the idea and the rest of his family. In a few weeks they’ll be divorced, and we can pull the goalie, start the family I’ve always wanted and live happily ever after.
“Love you,” she says, grinning and hugging me. “Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
I watch her go, knowing she’s not upset by my dismissal of her. She’s got things to do anyway.
Then I pace, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…
I don’t know how much time passes but it feels like way too long before the door opens and keys hit the dish by the door.
I run at him, hitting his body full force, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.
He grips me tight. Too tight. His face goes to my neck and his arms hold me so strong I feel like I’m about to break.
“Can’t breathe,” I jest, pulling back to look at him but startling with alarm when I see his eyes. They’re swollen. He’s been crying. “What is it? Are you okay?”
He slants his lips over mine, his body trembling. This is weird but I go with it. Maybe he’s just upset that his divorce will be final soon. It can’t be easy for him, he spent over a decade with this woman, she gave him a child. They’ve got a bond that I try to understand.
I rub his scalp with the tips of my fingers as he carries me to the bedroom and deposits me on the bed. His hands grasp and grope every part of me that he can reach. He devours my lips, my jaw, my neck, my shoulders, my breasts. Meanwhile I writhe beneath him, clinging to him and exploring the solid muscles of his body.
He groans, I moan, we pant, no words are spoken. We free our bodies of the cloth that keeps us parted and rejoin. He sinks into me, thrusting roughly. I gasp, my lips part and my legs wrap around his thighs, holding him to me as tightly as physically possible.
When my orgasm hits me, it rolls in gentle, pulsing waves, making my body jerk and spasm. He follows with a choked, staggered cry, and he buries his face in my neck, nuzzling me as his hips press so hard against mine, I can hardly move.
When I feel his tears against my skin, I hold him tighter. I don’t say a word, I’m too scared to ask why he’s so upset. His body trembles against mine and he rolls us onto our sides, burying his face in my chest and clinging to me like I’m his last breath.
“Please, you’re breaking me,” I say, repeating the words he spoke to me the last time I cried. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
He starts thrusting again, my thigh over his hip as he pushes harder, not that he can get any more inside, he’s already into the hilt. I feel so full and wanted. He doesn’t look at me, just holds me as he rocks us both to another orgasm.
I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t know why, but I know that he needs this closeness, that he needs me.
“I love you,” he whispers in my ear, his body covering my own. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too,” I reply.
He sits up and flips me onto my stomach so he can rub every inch of my body with his hands.
I hum happily, burying my face in the soft pillow that smells clean and fresh. I feel so relaxed and happy as he digs his fingers and palms in.
My tired body gives in and I find myself drifting to sleep.
He kisses my neck and shoulder and doesn’t stop rubbing me until I fall over the edge of slumber and sink into a dreamland full of happy thoughts and a hopeful future.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I forever amuse him.
When I woke up around two minutes ago, the last thing I expected to find was an empty apartment. Ezra always wakes me before he leaves, that’s if he leaves before me which isn’t exactly often. In fact, from memory it has been three times.
A feeling of dread sinks in as I call out his name from the bedroom and get no answer.
I clamber to my feet, getting tangled in the duvet. Reaching for my gown, I stumble a little and right myself, praying he appears in the doorway with mussed hair and a handsome smile.
“EZRA?” I call for the fifth time, checking the bathroom and then looking around for some clue as to where he could be. His power cord is still there but he has fifty of the things so that’s not much of a tell.
I pick up my phone but have received no messages or calls.
“Babe?” I call again, padding into the dark hall, it’s only three in the morning. I baulk at the time, I thought it was later than that. We have blackout blinds, so I often wake in the dark feeling disoriented.
Where is he?
I shout for him again and check the spare room and his office. His laptop is gone. His briefcase has also gone.
His favorite shoes are gone.
He’s gone.
I try to rationalize it, but I can’t. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere without letting me know first. And after last night I just know that something isn’t right here. The way he cried, the way he held me… was he saying goodbye?
I hiccup, fighting the urge to sob.
I’m jumping to conclusions.
I find his name in my contacts and get ready to call him, begging silently that he answers. Meanwhile I take an
other look around the apartment. I don’t want to seem overbearing and I’m also terrified of what he’ll say if he does answer.
Then I see something resting on his pillow, something I didn’t see in the dark. It’s a note. My heart soars. There it is, his explanation. I bet there was an emergency and he had to go and just didn’t want to disturb my slumber.
I unfold it… I read it… I crumple it with a choked sob in a tight fist.
I’m a coward, I couldn’t look into your eyes while I broke both of our hearts.
I love you. I am so sorry.
Ezra.
I remain in a catatonic state, feeling my brain cells burst with pain. I resist the urge to pass out while fighting the urge to vomit.
He’s just got cold feet. That’s all it is.
I’m a risk, not a guarantee… his wife is a guarantee. That’s all it is.
I’m starting to feel hysterical.
I call his phone again and receive a robotic voice, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
My hands are shaking so wretchedly the phone falls from my hands. No. This isn’t right. He wouldn’t do this. He promised.
HE PROMISED!
He wouldn’t just make love to me and leave me.
He wouldn’t leave me a note knowing I’ll never be able to erase it from memory. I can even count the lines on the paper, there are thirty-six of them, a multiple of six, a cruel joke to go with his abandonment.
Story of my life.
I send him a text, knowing he won’t get it, begging him to call me.
Then I pace, and click my fingers, unable to stop as my heart thuds so painfully I worry it might burst with each throb.
My feet ache, my thighs throb, the skin on my fingers blister as I fight to snap out of my compulsion. In the end I scream and collapse onto my knees, trying to breathe through the pain. I trusted him. I was so sure.
Becoming His Mistress Page 30