In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (45 page)

Right away, I thought back to how Zoey told Ezra that Precious had warned her how he doesn’t like to be around people after speaking. It pissed me the hell off. She was no authority on Ezra. She may have been right about several things, but had gotten so many wrong. Yeah, he hated a messy bed, but didn’t make everyone call him pastor on
Redeeming Souls’
property. He’d insisted Lilly call him
Brother
and I call him
Ezra
in the
Grace Room
.
She was there!
She was right about his meat-eating schedule, but dead wrong about Adele. Ezra didn’t want Adele, and I imagine he never did, but if so, not for long. She didn’t believe in God. He could never reconcile that with a companion. That left me to realize Precious knew shit about my husband.

I stood from my desk and began to collect my things.

“You’ve been on point about several things, princess, but failed to mention one thing. How does he like to fuck?” A sleek smile of satisfaction opened up on her almond face as her lips parted to speak. “And before you tell me how you’ve slept with him a time or two, you should know that wouldn’t satisfy my question. Do you know what languages he speaks when he’s balls deep? Do you know how he prefers to fuck at night, on a full belly, though he’s grown quite partial to feeling that wet-wet in the morning before his meditation and exercise? Do you know what your pussy tastes like on his beard…or his tongue—given you may have let him fuck you before the beard. And, girl, that beard!” I release a hearty giggle as I approached her at the door, prepared to leave. 

Precious stood there, shock-still, with her fuchsia stained lips parted.

“You only know the mask he wears for you. There’s levels to this. As his wife, I know. Don’t come for me again, Precious. I let you and adulteress Marva play me once. You won’t get that opportunity again. You don’t know the real Ezra Travois Carmichael.”

I walked away feeling accomplished about one thing: Precious no longer being an issue for me. She was right: at one point her presence did intimidate me. Although I didn’t really ‘know’ Ezra either, it felt damn good that I knew more of his masks than she did.

“What was that all about?” Lillian whispered when I approached her down in the library.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Beat bitches are even in church,” I hissed. “Let’s hurry up and grab a bite before service. I want to know more about your plans to get to the altar.”

What I didn’t say was how badly I needed to get way from Precious before I sinned more than I already had. I’d begun a new path of prayer. I needed to appease God, not have Him cast down fire because I couldn’t control my temper. Precious didn’t matter, of that I was sure. And also, I was tired and hungry. It was a different type of tired and hungry. Ms. Remah said it was the curse of the winter blues, especially from now having a husband who traveled excessively. I didn’t see the correlation and secretly hated her knowing how attached to him I’d been growing over the past few months alone.

My attachment had begun to concern me. Was my plan of forcing my husband to warm to me actually working or was it all just a waste of time? How much of my tongue-biting and obedience to him sexually had been an act? I knew my feelings for Ezra had changed shortly after we married, but there were days when I questioned the core of me and how that was changing, too. I’d been wanting to complement him spiritually. I knew I could never be as deep in God as Ezra, but I wanted to try. That was one area he undoubtedly committed himself to. So, I’d been attending both services since the fall and each Bible class. It was a gift and a curse how Ezra could intrigue my mind when speaking, and rev my body at the same time. Though he traveled a lot, I’d been working on making myself less combative and more…submissive. 

By the time we made it to
Redeeming Souls
, church was well underway. We caught traffic coming from a restaurant on the Upper West Side. Being the pastor’s wife had perks. I still sat in the general congregation, but now had the ushers hold seats for me. I have to say, I felt guilty about scooting past folks in the aisle to get to my seat: again, I was the pastor’s wife, creeping in late.

Tonight the pastor wouldn’t be around to catch it. It was a rare occurrence that Ezra didn’t speak at Bible study or morning worship, and tonight was that occasion. After the choir was done with the last selection, Precious took to the stage and made a few announcements. She reminded the congregation that our leader wouldn’t be with us tonight. It was still weird hearing Ezra being referred to as our leader when Bishop Carmichael was over in the dignitaries’ section. Ezra hadn’t had an official installation yet. That wasn’t due to happen until the spring. However, in terms of the role, Ezra had taken it on full time; trust me, I felt it each time he was away.

“But we are not short of a Holy Ghost, fire-spitting man of God!” Precious yelled into the microphone, pumping up the audience. I wasn’t used to seeing her so hyped. “All the way from Atlanta, is our very own, Prophet Seth Wilkinson! Come on, and give God an exuberant praise for sending this special vessel to impart His word. Give it up!” she shouted over the chords and keys of the organ and keyboard.

The drummer beat the high-hat and cymbals while the crowd went up.  A light skinned man with orangey-red hair mounted the altar. He took the mic from a pageant-smiling Precious as he took her at the small of her back, pulled her into his frame and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Odd for pulpit play
, I thought to myself. And if that was no indicator of his racy persona, when he whispered something into her face as he grinned flirtatiously like a pimp, I knew something was off.

He let go of her and made his way to the acrylic podium, regarding the room from side to side and section to section, similar to how Ezra did only his eyes were darker, more aware, and definitely menacing in a clever manner. His smile was seductively lopsided in a way that made me automatically understand he practiced his facial expressions and was good at it. He was vain. Absolutely aware of his charm.

“Praise the Lord,
Redeeming Souls for Abundant Living in Christ
,” he crooned into the microphone, ending in that passively lascivious manner.

“Oh, lord!” a woman squealed behind me. That cry was duplicated by at least five women within earshot.

Lil’ Lillian sighed next to me as she rolled her eyes. She leaned into me and whispered, “This is why it’s hard for ministers to be faithful. Women treat them like rock stars. In his case, it’s probably why he hasn’t married yet. Why, when you get this type of reception?”

As I watched Wilkerson wave at and point out people he knew in the audience, I asked, “Who is he?”

“He’s a junior pastor at one of our sister churches in Atlanta. Big organization he leads with his father and younger brother. The senior Wilkinson is good friends with Bishop Carmichael. They come up to visit every now and then. Sometimes they preach. He’s pretty good, too. I just can’t stand the fandom of it all. It doesn’t belong in the house of God,” she hissed.

Was I lusting over Ezra a year ago privately as these women were verbally? Was that a sin?
Is that why my marriage isn’t all that secure
?

That last theory had me straightening in my seat. Lately, I’d put way too much head time into trying to figure how I could endear myself to my husband. How I could make him want more with me than covenant.

Wilkerson belting a song ripped me from my thoughts. I wasn’t familiar with the tune, but the audience was. The women praised his vocal attempts…which were not very good. He knew it, but still sang displaying his arrogance. It was cute, I guessed. He slowly walked the stage in his off white three-piece suit. He kept one hand in his pocket, revealing a gold chain from the buttons on his vest to the pocket as he swayed back and forth, singing his heart out.
Who is this man?
His stage persona was so risqué. All I could do was compare it to Ezra’s.

“Hey,” I nudged Lils. “What’s a prophet?”

“It’s a little difficult to explain the prophetic seat in ministry versus the gift of prophesy. Wilkinson holds the seat, meaning it’s his ministry to speak on God’s behalf. That’s his role at his church.”

My face wrinkled in confusion. “And what’s the gift?”

She rolled her eyes as she snickered. I knew I was annoying her with my questions while she was trying to pay attention, but this church stuff had become intriguing to me—anything Ezra involved himself in intrigued me.

“Well, many people claim to have the gift of prophesy and will go around telling others what thus sayeth the Lord. They can be true words, and some can be imposters. Those that have tried and proven gifts are called to the ministry under that specific title, like pastors, evangelists, apostles…titles like that.”

“So Ezra is a pastor!” I whispered my understanding.

Lillian shook her head dismissively. “Ezra is actually a lot of things. He’ll tell you what he is on any given day.” She went back to Wilkinson.

As he moved the service along by praying and beginning his sermon, I thought back to Kamigu when Ezra whispered to an unresponsive Widya and she woke up. It was eerie to watch and had my mind racing with even more questions that would have been more appropriate for Ezra, but Ezra didn’t like to talk about his ministry to me. That was the mask I wasn’t privy to, unlike Precious. I wanted to badger Lils with these questions, but she was engaged in the message. I decided to go into the notes section of my Bible app and read over what I jotted down from Ezra’s last sermon. I wanted to see if I interpreted the scriptures the way he so eloquently broke them down.
Damn… That man could even preach sexily
. It wasn’t about the act of sex with him though, it was about how everything he did, he did it well and with a level of excellence. He was the jack of all trades and mastered them apparently well, too. Except for me. He kept a fence around me and the longer I was married to him, it burned me.

Wilkinson closed his sermon; I’d caught the end of it. He asked the musicians to play a soft tune…another I wasn’t familiar with. With Ezra, they all seemed to know which song to play to fit his direction.

“I can feel the spirit of loneliness heavily in the building. God is telling me that there are a number of you craving a validation…a man…or a lifestyle that you don’t believe you have. If that is you, God wants me to tell you this message was for you.” Wilkinson scanned the enormous sanctuary. “Will you come up so I can pray for you?” 

Similar to how they did when Ezra spoke, the women shot out of their seats and flew to the altar in droves.

“Uup!” Lils elbowed me. “We’re gonna be here for a while.”

I laughed and reached down for my phone to check in with Ms. Remah. I was just about to send her a text when I saw Ezra had sent one to me.

Ezra:
Just landed.
Be naked when I get home.

It was sent twenty minutes earlier. I eyed the screen intently, these were the instructions I craved.
Ezra’s back!
I could feel my sex liquefying in my seat. My body instinctively responded to his commands even if I was upset with him…or hurt by him. Tonight I was upset for the misery he had been causing my friend, Lilly, and her fiancé, who had to work with him almost every day.       

That’s it?
No timeframe?

Of course that was it. Ezra never specified unless it suited him. Our relationship was simple: he ordered and I obeyed. He got off on making me wait. And I’d grown to enjoy it, just like the spankings.

Just then, I noticed my heart was thrumming wildly, my palms misted in anticipation. My body had already begun to prepare for him...
In the sanctuary!
I chewed on my bottom lip as I blindly observed the line dwindling, and briefly rubbed my line of vision with Wilkinson. That was difficult to understand given our distance. Ezra could always spot me from the altar, but that was because I sat in the same row each service.

Even in that brief eye exchange, I caught a flip in his pupils I couldn’t identify right away. My pensive eyes shot down to my phone as I decided to text Ezra back.

Me:
How long will you be?

It would take at least an hour to make it home and I didn’t want to have him waiting on me. That, to me, seemed unnatural. As I waited for his response, I glanced over to find Lillian on her phone, too. I sat on the edge of my seat with twiddling fingers and shaky ankles; she sat with a huge adoring smile on her face.