In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (43 page)

God, what is this?
was all I could ask…again. It was the identical question I’d whispered in the echoes of my mind since she began these episodes down in the sandbox when she invited me to a movie. It was the same that she’d let slip while we soaked in the tub, down in the Jacuzzi, in the sandbox after hours of sexual experimentation. It was the one show of emotion Alexis would give that I had yet to understand.

Life continued into the winter with the same dreadful hyper-scheduling of my travel. Inclement weather delayed a few appointments, like a five-day conference in Longmont, Colorado. We endured an unrelenting severe snowstorm, hindering major means of traveling for two days in late January. I was relieved for the diversion when I learned Tasche won tickets to a private R. Kelly concert. Of course I didn’t want her to go, but Alexis was an adult with free will. She had been brooding the weeks before about not having been out with her girlfriends in large part due to her demanding work schedule. She was thrilled to go. After I attempted to enforce my
no-drinking-when-I’m-not-around
rule, all for her to toss me the glare of death, I was able to successfully negotiate her transportation and scheduled Carlos to drive her into the city.

I didn’t
exactly
wait up for her. I stalled dinner as much as I could after holing up in my office and taking to the dining room alone to eat. After which I settled in the kitchen, and retrieved my tablet from my office to read in the living room. I didn’t learn until that night the wonderful view of the front of the property that Ms. Remah had garnished the area with elegant white lights. I heavily anticipated the view once the flowers she planted out there blossomed in the spring. I put up my feet and relaxed with a book, getting lost in it. After a while, I began to search for the time, regretting I didn’t have the forethought to agree on an hour to expect her back home. I quelled every desire to contact Carlos, who was to wait for her after the show.

I found myself Googling R. Kelly, recounting his headlining demons that had almost landed him in prison. I, myself, believed the allegations, seeing Robert as a fellow-man of a higher calling, deeply haunted, and cursed by the very thing that inspired his virtuoso and countless hits. I would even consider him to be the King of R&B because you must sell your soul to achieve such a title and create the musical legacy he’s been able to. I knew this from firsthand experience: those who are called to the greatest works are the most sought after by the enemy. My running from the inevitable charge I was born into eventually paralyzed me into submission seven years ago.

The first yawn burst through my lips as I pondered how his music was undoubtedly of a genius creation. I loathed the idea of my wife being at a venue with the type of energy it would take to rouse the room filled with what Robert exuded so well: unmitigated lust. Rubbing my eyes, I told myself, it could be worse. It could be a concert with drug-raged, wall-banging patrons, threatening the safety of my beloved…

A firm grip tugged at my consciousness. Hot wet suctioning cracked my lids. At first her body was a blur in the dark glow of the room. Her rear mounds, a generous silhouette, were raised in the air while she straddled my outstretched legs on the ottoman. Her face was planted in my lap, feeding my steely cock to it. I throbbed swollen in her mouth. My kitten disarmed me in my slumber, awakening me to pure erotica.

I swallowed hard and attempted to clear my throat. “How was the concert,” I asked with little voice, my throat enflamed by lust.

She released me from her mouth making a popping sound while pulling back, then stood on her feet to slowly raise her dress from her thighs. It peeled from her smooth skin and from over her head until all that was left against the silky cacao were her lace undergarments. I smelled embedded smoke from cigarettes and marijuana, alcohol, and other associated pollutants that were regular occurrences at concert venues. She slowly doffed her bra and panties then kicked off her booties. Her bare frame had every cell in my body igniting. My erection was too large for the small opening of my pants, but she attempted without my assistance. As though reading my mind, Alexis pulled at my pants, this time I assisted until they were down at my ankles.

“I don’t see nothin’ wrong…” she whispered in song, gaining up my legs with slow seduction. I watched as though rapt in a dream as she shuffled closer and straddled my waist. “…with a lil’ bump and grind.”

She slid down on me, emitting a pained exhale. The smell of alcohol from her mouth drizzled fragrantly into my nostrils, intoxicating me. Along the way, with each plunge as she took me in, she moaned in her usual feline manner. Her breasts, modestly round, pebbled at the apex. Alexis was indisputably a goddess. I ached to move, needing to fill her to the hilt, but I controlled my hips to remain immobile until she was well seated. And when she was my head rolled back as my kitten rode me with the inspiration of a flogger chasing her.

Lord, I bless You for Brother Robert’s unspeakable gift…

~Ezra~

This morning there was another bizarre encounter from Alexis. It was Monday, my second favorite day of the week as it was the beginning of the workweek in early February. This one was met with particular exuberance because I was home and could go about my normal regimen of meditative running, a workout in my gym, and finally prayer before showering to leave.

As I was on my knees in the gym, fervently petitioning, I felt a presence in the room. I peered up to find a diffident Alexis wrapped in a thick robe and Ugg boots. She stood there for some time, hopping from one hip to the next. I waited expectantly, unpleased about having my privacy breached. A proud regimented man, I rely on my ability to approach the throne early in the morning while the land is quiet and I can hear my thoughts. It is my time alone with Him to cast all my cares and requests form those I cover without disturbance. Right now, I was staring at a disturbance and it did not please me.

“Alexis,” I demanded, unable to continue to hide my annoyance.

Just the sight of her distracted me from the zone I needed to be ensconced into for daily preparation, communion, and survival. It would only be a matter of seconds before my thoughts turned carnal.

She scraped her bottom lip before muttering, “Yesterday…your sermon,”—her voice trembled—“you spoke about it being impossible for God to dwell inside you if you don’t communicate with Him…and that only happens through prayer.”

“Yes,” I grated impatiently.

Her fingers wrestled each other, entwining with anxiety.

“Well, I was hoping…I mean.” She swallowed. “I know you come out here to work out and pray and…”

“Alexis, I’m on a timetable here,” I warned.

Her eyes skirted around aimlessly until her shoulders fell. “I don’t know how to pray, Ezra. I was hoping…”

My eyes ballooned and air vacuumed into my lungs. I had to quickly gather myself for two reasons: I was always in control around Alexis and that couldn’t change for the purposes of the delicate balance of our relationship. I was her leader and had to remain sound. Secondly, I didn’t want to embarrass her for not knowing how to pray. I could actually kick myself for not discerning that before now. If she wanted to learn anything I could teach that would make her well suited as my partner, I would do it.

“Come here, beloved.” I waved her over.

Alexis jumped, startled on her toes and pulled a mat next to mine. Her knees met the floor and she positioned her feet underneath her hind, a familiar pose for her. If I could keep my fleshly mind from drifting there I could, with clarity, pull on appropriate scripture. And I did.

“The Bible says in Luke, ‘And it came to pass, that, as he was praying in a certain place, when he ceased, one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples. And he said unto them, ‘When ye pray, say, Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done—’”

“Not that one.” She covered my clasped hands as we burrowed under the wall. “I learned that a few months ago. I want to pray how you pray.” My brows arched high. “Like how you pray when you get excited during your sermons, and when people come to the altar requesting prayer from you. Like how you were praying when I walked in.”

Then it clicked.

“In tongues?”

She nodded with batting lashes. This was just as awkward for her as it was for me. I combed through and yanked at my beard in deep thought. My mind raced with so much, namely, ‘Where did this request come from?’

“Beloved, speaking in tongues is a gift of the Holy Spirit. You’d have to petition Him for it. It’s not something I could teach or bestow. But if you want to be guided into prayer I would suggest two elements,”—Christ! Why was this difficult for me?—“one being revealing those things heavy on your heart, and the second being praise. You must always present to God in praise. He’s thrilled by that. It’s required of your worship. Do you understand, Alexis?”

With pinched brows she nodded. “I think so.”

“What do you want to start with?”

“Maybe my prayer requests?” she offered, unsure.

“Okay. And what might they be?” The question sounded so intrusive the moment it spilled from my lips.

But I desperately wanted to know, that quickly surmising it would be the answer to her strange behavior over the past few months. It was still baffling.

“Ummmm…” she swallowed hard, eyes diverted to the floor. “I don’t think I want to share that.”

“That’s fine,” I lied, not feeling any guilt over the sin because it was what I was supposed to say. “Just don’t forget to end with praise; it waters the planted seeds of your prayer requests.”

“Do I have to speak them out loud?” she asked, panicky.

I cracked an amused smile. This may have proven to be a pleasant surprise after all… perhaps not. My kitten’s chastity in any manner was a major turn on for me. I thoroughly enjoyed playing coach with her.

“No, Alexis. Not if you don’t wish to. Your prayers, and how they’re carried out, are purely between you and God. Just keep them sincere and consistent.”

“Okay,” she muttered before facing forward and bowing her head.

Instantly, I saw her full lips making infinitesimal movements. That lewd sight snapped me into motion to continue my own supplication. It took a few seconds to catch my groove, but eventually I returned to the deepest realm of divine communication.

I shook my head, perplexed by that encounter. Alexis had been struggling with something and it troubled me how I could sense and feel the weights of a stranger, but not be able to identify a problem concerning my wife. I forced my thoughts away from it all, I had to get on with my extremely busy day.

Today, I was scheduled to spend the entire day at the lab. I needed it. Though I worked distantly, from home, my presence here was needed. Being here also took me out of the shepherd’s role, which helped balance me. Being an engineer always balanced the worshiper in me. Christians tend to believe things as they’re fed to them.
How was the Earth formed?
What’s this hotdog made out of?
How safe is the plastic bottles we drink out of?
We tend to be content with God looking over us. And if no one has effectively disputed the first chapter of Genesis, has not dropped dead from eating the anonymous meat or from the aged technology of the plastic water bottles, all is well. Well, not for me. While I believed with all my heart, mind, and soul that God is the supreme being of the universe and He sent His son, Jesus, to save human kind, I still needed to test the efficacy of theories presented to society. Hence my profession in science.

I’ve had a staff meeting, a lab drill, and an interview since beginning work this morning, now seated in my office, I awaited my next appointment with—I checked my Outlook calendar on my desktop—a N. Scott. I keyed my phone.

“Yes, Mr. Carmichael?” my assistant, Geoffrey answered.

“I see I’m waiting on a “N. Scott’ for an hour-long meeting. Any idea what this is in reference to?”

“Hmmmm,” Geoffrey keyed his board. “No idea, sir. Looks like this was made while I was out on jury duty last week. But,” I heard the amusement in his voice. “When I see this initial next to that last name, you know the first person that comes to mind.”

I chuckled after a few seconds of deliberation. “There is nothing I’d have to meet with your future cousin’s woman about, Geoffrey.”

Geoffrey Griffin had been my assistant for five years. He’d come from a line of law professionals. Before his father passed away a few years ago, before I met him, he was on his way to being a family court judge. This was a different system than his brother’s, who was a criminal court judge. That brother was also, Taylor Griffin’s, Nyree’s fiancé’s, father. I thought it was a small world when I discovered Geoffrey was one of those Griffins. My father had been loose associates with his family and would perform many religious functions at their family’s events.

“Oh, trust me, sir. I know. But as I’ve told Taylor, she’s a wild one with too much time on her hands.” I halfway wondered what that meant. “That’s an incoming call, sir. I have to go.”

As soon as I hung up with Geoffrey, my line buzzed.

“Mr. Carmichael, you have a visitor here to see you,” Karl, our security informed from the lobby. 

“Please send them up,” I requested then grabbed my phone to send a quick inspirational tweet out; a message that had been burning on my chest since my ride in this morning.

When a timely word hits your spirit, it usually repeats until delivered. At least that’s how it worked with me. Just as I finished the last of my allotted 140 characters, my door was pushed opened. I scrambled to my feet to gain purchase of self-possession.

She strutted in with enough ounces of confidence to fill her from head to toe. Immediately she released the buttons of her elegant cape to expose the knee-length little black dress that fit as though it was painted on. Her cleavage filled the room, and not because she was heavily busty, but because she’d selected the right undergarment to push them together for the perfect effect.

“Oh! So you are normal!” she squealed with revelation. Her eyes went from me to her cleavage. “Had I known that, I would’ve worn something better for that type of hook.”

She’d caught my reaction to her provocative appearance. Nyree was beautiful by most standards, but she would never suit me. Though her body was appealing, she could not tempt me. Her insecurities led her into the room. She hung her coat on my coat rack and took a seat in front of my desk.

“Nyree, I am a busy man.” I moved to the coat rack to exchange my lab coat for a suit jacket, deciding to use this wasted hour blocked off to go grab a bite. “What brings you to
Kaiser Laboratories
?”

“Well, back to what I was saying…” She rolled her almond shaped eyes. “All this time, I could see seducing you didn’t work. You being a very fashionable man, I thought I could appeal to your ego. That didn’t happen, so I pegged you for being a preaching weirdo.” She twisted her bright pink lips on her golden amber face. “But I still didn’t get it. I couldn’t understand your draw to Lex. She’s not bad looking, but let’s keep it real, she’s not on your level. Her father is one blowup away from killing someone, and Lex pathetically runs behind him, cleaning up his mess like a pitiful maid. I don’t even understand how you have that mean ass Ms. Remah living on your property.
Ughhhh!
” she shivered. “So then I Google’d you and,
man
, I knew you had some cash because of the sleek
F-Type
you gave Lex and that chic ass wedding—that mine didn’t top, by the way.” She held up her left finger displaying her wedding rings. I’d forgotten all about her impending nuptials; Alexis hadn’t spoken of Nyree in months.

“Anyway,” she continued, her tone dry. “I knew you had some money, but didn’t realize you came from it. And more than that, you come from power—real power. It only took a few clicks for me to learn about the history of the church and how it’s being passed down to you. Your family is worth millions.” She raised her hands while shaking her down-turned head. “And before you try to refute it, know I’m a hound and I know how to hunt wealth.”

I sat back at my desk and hand-combed my beard. Nyree’s visit had come with great deliberation. I remained quiet.

“After I saw your house in the woods I knew there was a story behind you. But what I can’t figure out is why you want Lex. She isn’t cut from your cloth—nowhere near it! She doesn’t come from the world of affluence like you and me. She knows nothing about affiliations or how to play in elite social realms. If you were just fucking her I’d understand a man of your caliber wanting around-the-way pussy. I mean, yeah, Lex is smart and all. She just graduated with two degrees, but let’s make no mistake about it, she’s from the streets. She was homeless when I met her. I let her stay at my house until my parents caught on and kicked her out.” Nyree tilted her head, side to side, toward each shoulder. “Well, some shit went down before that, which is how they got wind of her situation. And that’s what brought me here today.” She plucked imaginary lint from her dress. “I know something about your wife that could ruin your family legacy.”

I took a deep, apathetic breath. “Something like what, Nyree?”

“Something like how she used to make a living that would roll heads in your world.”