In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (20 page)

“You can sing,” she noted, attempting enmity, but I could hear the pitch of curiosity in her inquiry.

I’d forgotten all about that slip. I hadn’t sung in years—on the microphone. I got so caught up this morning, trying to surprise my new bride, I allowed that inconvenient fact to slip.

“I sing,” I qualified.

Her head pushed up until I could see her relaxed regard, chocolate eyes slanted with post-coital bliss. “No. You can
sang
. Why am I just learning this?”
Oh, no.
I didn’t need her to be reminded about our expedited nuptials. I fought against that looming fact to get her to a point of comfort with me. For my ultimate agenda. “I feel out of the loop. The women in there seemed to have been privy to that talent of yours.”

I had no idea what she was referring to.
Women?
What women?

I kissed her head gently. “Beloved, I don’t sing. No one was in on a secret being deliberately kept from you. At least not the masses.”

“Why don’t you sing more often? Shoot, sing in the choir? Even Dwayne seemed moved by your voice. I’m sure he’d like to have you help them out.”

I suppressed a chuckle, soothed by her gentle fingering through my chest hairs. “I don’t sing. I’ve never sang in the choir, and quickly dismissed my parents’ urges of me doing it solo during services. The most I’ve done with my voice was seduce—” I halted my streaming thoughts.

I wasn’t prepared to share my methods of sexual pursuit as a teenager.

“What’s up with the beads?” She thankfully moved on.

“Pardon?”

“The beads. What are they called...rosary?”

Oh.

“Yes. They’re called rosary, but they don’t hold that significance with my usage.”

“I thought only Catholics used them. Why do you?” she inquired. “And you have different colors.”

This was odd. Sharing so much, and in sensually satiated state. I’d guessed it was part of the game. It was harmless. I figured I could oblige her.

“They belonged to friend of mine, James, an Irish kid whom I met at Pepperdine. He was Catholic.” I didn’t think of James often anymore. Memories of him brought with them dark times. “He was my first convert to Christianity. We met my sophomore year when he was a freshman, and clicked right away.” Jimmy and I talked about everything and bonded with ease. He looked up to me, even left his faith for mine. “One Sunday at the church my father had arranged for me to attend while in California, he gave his life to Christ. After service, back on campus, he handed me his collection of beads saying he had no use of them.” Pain struck my chest. “He got sick my last year. I assured him God would heal his body. Pancreatic cancer took him rather quickly.” I cleared my throat of the sadness in my heart from his loss. I promised him eternal life if he converted and his natural one ended almost immediately. I was so angry with God. So hurt, I abandoned my faith and left the country to disprove His arms. “I kept the beads.”

I glanced down at a fixated Alexis. Her brows were furrowed and the side of her mouth upturned.

“But you use them.”

Oh, that
.

“To time myself while speaking. When I started preaching, I was a bit rough on presentation. One of my weaknesses was pacing. I developed a cadence with the beads pushing them over my finger. Then eventually when I let the Holy Spirit take over, it’s more of a soothing practice. A habit. A way to remember James.” But also the way I failed him. And God.

My stomach rumbled its protests of emptiness, reminding me of the need of sustenance.

“You’re hungry,” she uttered, visibly concerned.

I hadn’t eaten since Friday evening, fasting to prepare for this morning. I kissed her deeply again, feeling myself hardening again with need. My tongue trailed down her neck onto her breast where I sucked in as much flesh as I could and nibbled on it. Alexis’ back arched, inciting my addiction to her body.

“I’m always hungry. You’re infinitely delicious,” I whispered over her soft skin as she raked the back of my head with her fingers. “But Ms. Remah already warned earlier that she wouldn’t be warming up dinner. That was an hour ago.” I lifted to release her from my grip. “As it stands, I’m not top 1,000 on her favorite people’s list. Let me clean you up so we can eat.”

Alexis propped herself up on her elbows. “She respects you a lot more than she’s willing to let on. She just has to adjust to living with a man.”

I left the bed to put away my implements. “She doesn’t exactly live with me, beloved.” I was cognizant of my tone. I didn’t want Alexis believing I was proposing her guest to leave.

“But she kinda sorta does when you think about it. She shares your kitchen and cooks for the house. She understands you like things a certain way and is trying to adhere to it.”

Alexis was fighting for diplomacy. I didn’t want this to be a point of contention in our marriage. Ms. Remah was here and that wouldn’t change. I would adjust to not having my kitten all to myself at home. 

“Beloved, please.” I extended my hand to help her off the bed. “There’s no need to discuss this any further. The longer we are down here, the more we risk extending her contempt for me.”

She pulled the sheet over her nakedness, took my hand, and scooted off the bed. “Don’t start with that poetic verbiage bullshit, Ez—” Alexis quickly halted her words. Her eyes went wide and wild at that slip.

I yanked her into my chest, “Don’t believe for one second I don’t have enough energy to toss you over that bench and flog you until those bountiful cheeks turn my favorite hue of purple, beloved,” I warned with a glacial gape. I would love nothing more than to hear whimpers from my thrashes.

Alexis’ mouth shut and lashes fanned with correction. “Sorry, sir,” she grated. I was unconvinced of her remorse, but pleased to see her humiliation.

“Very wise, beloved,” I purposely taunted. “Now let’s go get you cleaned. I may even grant you one more orgasm while doing it.” 

  Her lips parted at that. With an urging at the small of her back, I followed her up to our bedroom.

~Ezra~

“What’s bustling in that mind of yours, beloved?” I asked from across the dining room table, sincerely curious.

Alexis had been getting underneath my skin. She complained of my taciturn nature and I’d been trying to work on it. Recently, she’d been too quiet and absorbed in her thoughts. I didn’t like it. I wanted to know what was going on in her head.

Just then, Ms. Remah entered the room. She carried two dishes, presumably to fix her own serving.

“I was thinking about a conversation I had with Lilly yesterday. She asked me if I had any say in my wedding rings, at least my band,” Alexis began to answer me while engaged in her plate. “I told her no. I didn’t even know you were thinking about proposing.” Her lips turned up toward her nose, revealing her deep and sudden revelation at that.
I’d purchased our rings weeks after seeing you stretched out at my feet at RSfALC, beloved
. “She thought I was joking. I swore to her I wasn’t. She said she and Thaddeus are discussing how involved she’d be in the process. I think it’s so cute!” She smiled, finally looking up.

Ms. Remah’s blaring huff was my sentiment exactly. I continued at my plate without a remark, though I wanted to chuckle at the reaction. I had no interest in entertaining Thaddeus’ latest marriage interest. It was incredibly sloppy.

“Aww, c’mon, Ms. Remah!” Alexis scoffed. “You of all people should be happy that she’s found someone to settle down with. What’s even more dope is they’re actually in love!” Her eyes glittered with admiration.

I couldn’t help choking on my food.

“What’s that about, Ezra?” Alexis asked with wrinkled brows.

I tried clearing my throat. “Apparently a grain of rice went down the wrong passage,” I attempted.

“No. I think you don’t believe they’re in love. Some couples do fall in love. I think it’s great: it can only strengthen their bond. Don’t you think, Ms. Remah?” Alexis turned toward the buffet where Ms. Remah stood.

“Man and woman come together for t’eir own reasons,” Ms. Remah responded then shrugged her shoulders displaying disinterest. “Men need less t’an women.”

Maybe there is hope for us after all.

“Has Thaddeus been sharing about his relationship with you? Can’t you see they’re actually in love? Unlike how he was with Miranda? God,” Alexis shivered. “I’m glad he dropped that thot. She was all wrong for him.”

“But he was committed to her,” I finally spoke.

Alexis’ head bounced up from her plate. “And? Commitments are broken all the time, especially poor ones. And that one was goddamn awful.” Her face screwed.

“Thaddeus is a leader in this organization. Is looked to for proper standard, as he should be. What people see now is him hopping from one commitment to the next and falsely alleging that he’s doing the same thing in bed. Albeit rocky, it was him who asked for her hand in marriage. It was also him who broke it off months later and is now proposing the same commitment to your friend. Doesn’t sound so…‘dope’ to me.” Yes. I did heckle my wife. She didn’t need to be impressed by chaos.

She dropped her fork and inclined over the table, toward me. “Perhaps he made a mistake. Got it wrong the first time. There’s nothing wrong with marrying for love.”

My beloved was challenging me. I wouldn’t tolerate it.

“Thaddeus can make as big a circus as he desires in his own life, but the drama of it won’t find its way into my home. He is being reckless with his actions and I won’t entertain him.” I attempted with finality.

“Is that what you tell him when he shares it with you?” she asked in earnest, her face still contorted.

“I don’t ‘tell’ him anything. I ‘told’ him the first, and hopefully last time he brought it to my attention that I would not tolerate him making a mockery of the institution of marriage, something God honors.”

“Leaving a failing relationship, thankfully reconnecting with someone you fell in love with long ago, and wanting to make the final commitment to her is making a mockery of marriage?” she asked, incredulity lacing her tone.

I tossed my wrist in the air dismissively. “No. Believing in such a mystical, man-made emotion and putting it before what God honors of the institution is.” I refused to continue to interrupt my scrumptious dinner—the first since breaking my fast—discussing Thaddeus’ haste.

“Really! Because I would think not at least being in love and agreeing to make marriage whatever the hell you want, like you did, is the biggest mockery of them all, Pastor.”

We were at it again: The stare down.

“Understand me, beloved,” I spoke evenly, “every detail of my life is consulted with God and judiciously with the mind of Christ. When I make a move, I don’t parade the decision or the consequence for the world to see. It is for me to enjoy privately or to learn from exclusively. Marriage should not be viewed as a grand-standing accomplishment. It is an incredible undertaking, the details of which are between a man, a woman, and their God. When I approached you, it wasn’t with the congregation. When I courted you, I didn’t do so with the knowledge of the world. When I proposed, I sought God, then you. Alone. It wasn’t until I married you did I publicly make known my agenda of having a lifetime partner, suited just for me. Such matters of covenant should be made alone. Only a fool makes fatuous decisions based on unempirical emotions.”

Alexis sat back in her chair, regarding me with empty eyes. “You’ve managed to influence me once again, Pastor.” I immediately wondered what that meant. “I guess I can use the time I’ll have away
alone
to make the next ‘big’ decision in my life.”

“Away?”

“Yeah. I leave for Puerto Rico for Nyree and Taylor’s joint bachelorette/bachelor party.”

I recalled her mentioning why she’d applied for a passport in the first place, but it had altogether escaped me since. I didn’t like her snarky reminder.

“When is this supposed to happen?”

“This week.” Alexis grabbed her plate and pushed back from the table. “And I can’t wait for the alone time.”

She stalked out of the dining room, not leaving an opportunity for rebuttal. Ms. Remah and I were in there, both of our attention at the door Alexis exited from before they met. 

“And here I thought you were the only woman on the property that I had to win over,” I murmured.

“Tuh…” she sucked the roof of her mouth before heading out with her dishes still full.

I sat back in my seat, suddenly exhausted after a long and unexpected Sunday.

And just after I preached.

~Lex~

“I’m surprised you made it.”

My face wrinkled as my eyes trailed from the window of the plane over to Tasche. “Why?”

She sat back, resting her head against the back of the seat and shrugged. “I on’t know. You been so busy: getting married, having a big ass wedding, moving, leaving the rec, looking for a new job, becoming a First Lady of some big ass church...”

Tasche’s rant was interrupted when Nyree and Taylor passed us in the aisle. She didn’t speak, but Taylor offered a broad smile and nod under his black
Ray Bans
, clearly unaffected by his fiancée’s pissy mood. She sported oversized sunglasses too, only her nose was way up in the air, indicative of her mood lately.

Nice disposition with your girlfriends who are traveling to celebrate you
.

“What’s her problem?” I whispered.

“She mad she’s flying coach. Supposedly the big judge’s son didn’t shell out for first class seats.”

I turned to see them land four rows behind us.

“I guess it sucks to travel the same class and means as your guests, huhn?”

Tasche shrugged again, hardly hiding her giggle. “Anyway, yo, it’s good to see you ain’t changed. You still the same ol’ Lex.”

My face wrinkled again. “Why would I change? Who else would I be?”

“I ‘on’t know.”
What the hell do you know?
“It’s just that Ny said after your big-to-do wedding you may not wanna roll with us to San Juan.”

“Hmmmmmmm...” was all I commented.

I would never let her know how much that stung. I instantly felt betrayed. For one: Why were my friends talking behind my back. And two: Why would Nyree think I wouldn’t support her?

That question reminded me of my conversation with Ezra last night at dinner. I could tell he had some concerns about me leaving. It could have either been separation anxiety from having spent the past month attached at the hip—literally—or his possessive ways rearing, but I could tell he hadn’t been ecstatic about my leaving for Nyree and Taylor’s joint bachelor/bachelorette party. I’d paid for the trip months ago, before losing my job and couldn’t get my money back
if
I wanted to. And I didn’t want to.

Tasche was right; the past few months had been overwhelming, and the last one had totally turned my life upside down. I was married to a minister who had a strange fascination with sex and practiced it as an art form.
And
on top of that, he enjoyed kinky sex.
And on top of that
, he had me enjoying it, too. It fucked with my head. I’d cried more in the past three months than I had in the past six years from being unsure of myself, the direction of my life, and my decision making. I’d been gradually losing control, and progressively Ezra had been gaining it. I didn’t like that shit. I needed a break.

I was actually looking forward to an
Ezra-free
zone. And to begin it, I let out an easy breath, closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me while the appreciative distance between us grew.

The resort was festive...crowded, but it definitely gave off that ‘away’ feeling that was much needed. Tasche and I shared a room with double beds. It was a simple room and would be my haven for the next three days while I detoxed from my new life.

As soon as we settled, unpacking our clothes and choosing beds, Tasche’s eyes grew wild when she shouted, “Pool time!” her fist raised in the air. “I need to work on my tan. You down?”

I rolled my eyes as I scoffed, “My black ass is permanently tanned. I don’t need the sun. I’m down for wetting my feet and poolside drinks, though.” Tasche was a mere shade lighter than me, so I didn’t understand her fascination with baking in the sun. “Let me call Ny to see if she wants to chill with us or be corny secluded love-birds.”

“Don’t hate if they do,” she teased. “You boo’d up, too. I know you remember what it was like those few weeks before the wedding, tryna’ act like you was holding out.”

With the phone cradled in my shoulder I replied noncommittally, “We did.” I tossed my lips in the air.

“Get. The. Fuck. Outta. Here. Yo!” she shouted as she tossed herself onto the mattress.

My forehead crinkled. Just then, Nyree picked up.

“Yeah.” Her tone was clipped.

“Hey, Ny. Me and Tasche about to head out to the pool on the north side. You guys wanna meet up?”

“No thanks. Taylor’s still tired from the flight. I’m gonna stay in with him,” she muttered, seemingly unsure.

“Cool. That’s where we’ll be,” I offered.

“Got it,” Nyree sang, but in a derogatory manner.

I shook it off. I was a bitch leading up to my wedding, I was sure. So I gave her a pass.