In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (46 page)

“Let me guess, Thaddeus,” I whispered dryly.

“Yes! He’s back and wants to see me, but it’ll have to wait till tomorrow.” Her face fell.

“Why?”

“Because,” her eyes scanned the area and she leaned in closer. “He’s been away with Ezra since Monday, and if we see each other tonight, we may not be able to control ourselves. So daylight is safest for us.” Her bashful smile said it all.

Lils wasn’t boning. She hadn’t given up the good-good. I was proud for some strange reason and even gave her an affirmative fist-pound. Some guy I saw at the altar with Wilkinson appeared at the end of our row. I would have considered how weird it was if my phone didn’t vibrate in my hands at the same time.

Ezra:
Are you questioning me, beloved? Do you have something better to do?

I rolled my eyes.
Mr. Bossy is now Mr. Cranky after not having any good-good since Sunday
. It was odd that Ezra and I didn’t have sex before he left Monday night. That never happened. Ezra and I did nothing at all if we didn’t have sex...and fight, which led to sex
. Oh, and go to the movies
. We did that on Saturdays when his schedule permitted. I had a sneaking suspicion he had grown partial to that activity, though I was never sure when it came to that controlling man.

My body was still in hyper-anxiety mode. I needed to get home.

“Lex, they’re calling either you or me to the altar.” Lillian tapped me on the knee.

I peered up to find her pointing at Wilkinson’s handler. I was completely lost at what was going on, but moved quickly when Lils took to her feet for the middle aisle, towards the man.

Me:
No. It’s just that I’m not home. I didn’t want you waiting. That would be topping from the bottom.

I muffled a giggle as I made my way into the aisle. Ezra loved tossing that accusation at me when I wanted to lead us during sex. Then it hit me: we were in the aisle!
What the hell are we doing?
People were looking at us being escorted and others caught up in the spirit. I didn’t like the attention no matter how varied it was. I reached out to Lils, who walked ahead of me and tapped her shoulder. It was easy to catch up with her short legs.

“What’s going on?” I asked at the same time my phone vibrated in my hand.

Ezra:
Where are you, Alexis?

Bossy!
I sighed, quickly returned his text…at church…
in the center aisle!

Bishop is probably turning blue from where he sits!

Me:
Bible study! Where else?

Suddenly that overwhelming sense of agitation coated me. I wanted to make a beeline to our pew, grab my things, and speed home. I hated the anxiety he made me feel at being inadequate.
And I hate being the center of attention at church!

Why are we doing this!

Then I met eyes with Wilkinson and got my answer. There, in the center of a parted walkway with people aligning him—some caught up in high emotions, crying out in praise, others standing expectantly, waiting for his attention—stood Wilkinson. His penetrative eyes seared me, and I could now see they were an alluring hazel with green specs. His face was bare of hair except for his well-cut mustache that matched the orangey red on his head and the freckles peppering his face. His shoulders were wider up close, his stature ten times more impressive. And his eyes…those eyes that salaciously swept the congregation were lined with pure lust. It was difficult to deny his masculine features under the bright lights of the pulpit. Hard to ignore the way something in his regard signaled my already sexually heightened body after Ezra’s summoning.

The shit was weird, but I knew without a doubt the man standing before me could see right through me. He could sense the compromised state of my guard. He saw the caving of my shoulders in a manner I could now perceive I presented when I submitted to my husband moments before he devoured me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt this man saw the
kitten
in me. The one my husband identified and schooled for his pleasure.

My lungs began to work overtime and my sprinting heart rate corroborated it. I swallowed hard, crossing my arms over my belly, suddenly chilled with shame.

“Here you are,” Wilkinson lulled when I found myself standing alone in front of him. “The Spirit of the Lord told me this message was for you.” He smiled predatorily. My spine shivered. How could a message I heard but two words of be from God to me? Was I missing something? Wilkinson’s lashes met with seductive charm—
there at the altar
. “You’re looking for something, belle. Something you’ve been petitioning God for, for years,” he almost sang with slanted eyes, his claim so confident.

I felt cold…my entire frame vibrating and chilled. I hadn’t been
praying
for years. I’d just learned how to pray this week. But I was too emotionally fragile to express that as I hugged my frame protectively.

His thin brows met as he chided, “Don’t hide yourself, belle. This is your time. Claim what God’s got for you.” He smiled in that dangerously alluring way again.

Who is belle?

What did that mean? I couldn’t think.

Wilkinson gently grabbed my right arm, pulling it from my belly, toward him. I swallowed hard and felt my eyes grow wild. The shouts, cries, and applauses from the congregation seemed to have increased in volume. My spine shivered out of nowhere and my back heated. I felt a covering, a shield hovering over me from behind. There was an intimate snaking around my belly where my left arm gripped at my abdomen. At the heated touch of the underside of my arm, my hand loosened its grip. I could hear blood rushing in my ears louder than that of the chants and shouts. My arm glided, choreographed onto the arm below and swung out, lifting in the air. I collapsed backward toward the heat, unwillingly giving in to the pull behind me.

When I felt the bulge against the small of my back, I knew it was him.

My left arm lay atop his, my palm rested outstretched on his open fist, extending out until it was inches away from Wilkinson’s face. The familiar fumes of the fragrance I’ve come to crave danced in my nose, peaking my nipples. I couldn’t believe he was here. My chest froze bitterly from the chill of Wilkinson in front of me, and my back burned from the fire Ezra ignited within me from behind—that and his recognizable fury.

“She already has,” Ezra rasped from over my head.

I couldn’t control the heaving of my chest, my lungs wouldn’t slow.

Those three words spoke more than what could be recognized on the surface. They were a declaration of ownership. He was modeling the goods. Ezra had always made it clear to me that I belonged to him. This time he was informing someone else.

A slow and knowing smile rebounded on Wilkinson’s golden face. I had no idea who this man was, but in those few seconds he knew who I belonged to. I was a writhing kitty under two pit bulls and hated every moment of it.

He was aroused!
Ezra’s body, his dick was as hard as steel behind me—
in the house of God!
And my body was wired, prepared to be ravished. There was something extremely perverse about this scene. It
had
to be sacrilegious. Ezra had never brought our sex life to the sanctuary, much less the pulpit. I felt light-headed…intoxicated. Inhabited, but nothing of what I felt when Ezra called me up for prayer last year with Mother Snell. This trio act was…scabrous.

“
Ooooh!
I see now.” Wilkinson covered his clipped microphone and leaned into us. “She’s still uncollared.”

Ezra emitted a frightening growl that vibrated against my back, making my ankles quiver in my shoes. His clutch at my waist intensified near pain. I could hardly breathe.

“Ezra,” I tried to speak, but I’ll be damn, it carried like a moan.

With his grip, Ezra pivoted me to the left and pushed just enough to signal me to walk. I couldn’t believe we were leaving this way—relieved no doubt to be from under the heat of the two alpha men, but embarrassed by the spectacle I was sure was made.

Was it me? Had I done something to invite a strange man’s scandalous attention? Who was he? What was Ezra’s beef with him? Why did I feel so guilty about something I didn’t intend or understand?

“Please get her things from her seat,” Ezra ordered one of the ushers.

He didn’t wait for her to return. We headed out the side door. He led me to the Bishop’s office where he shut down his computer and the monitors that streamed from the sanctuary upstairs. My heart wouldn’t slow at his eerie silence. He was punishing me with it. Here I was once again deciding if I should demand he explain his bizarre behavior to me or just shut the fuck up and wait on him. I didn’t fear Ezra; he wouldn’t harm me. But I’d begun realizing I lived to not disappoint him, just as I did my father, Ms. Remah…everyone I opened my heart to. Just as I’d done with my mother. I’d do anything I could to make them happy or to prevent them from being unhappy with me.

The usher brought my things and we left right after. The hour-long ride was just as chilling as standing in front of Wilkinson while he undressed me with his eyes in a sanctuary full of people.

Maybe I shouldn’t have gone up to the altar. I could have said no. No one had ever called me from my seat before
.  

Once we arrived, Ezra went about the evening as he would have had he not just returned. I warmed up the dinner Ms. Remah left on the stove, and we ate in the dining room. As usual, Ezra ate with his face toward his plate, inhaling his food. The swift movement of his stiff beard told how fast his jaws moved. But I didn’t speak.

Not until he did when his plate had been cleaned.

“I didn’t expect you to be at church,” his voice deceptively soft.

“Why? I go every Thursday.” My tone was reasonably icy.

“Yes, as I preach every Thursday.”

“So, I can only go when you preach? Is that it, Ezra? You control my spiritual life, too?”

“I protect you from wolves like the one you encountered today.” His eyes were hard and brows arched high.

“Why would you have him preaching there if you know how he is?”

“My father arranged it knowing I’d be away. It’s well documented that Seth and I have our differences. I had nothing to do with that arrangement.”

“Well, maybe you should check your father then. I had nothing to do with that man…don’t want no parts of him.”

At the flip of his mask, I was able to tell two things in mere seconds. First is that it seemed Ezra realized in that moment that his father
had
arranged for his nemesis to speak there to spite him in their ongoing power battle. And second, my bite could have appeared that I
was
affected by Wilkinson.

Ezra sat up in his seat, his head cocked to the side as his eyes squinted in revelation, maybe.

“Did you enjoy his attention? It was clear he was quite fascinated with you, kitten.”

I sighed and my eyes and shoulders dropped.

It amazed me how well I’d grown to know Ezra’s thought process in just a few months of living with him. 

“Ezra,” my voice was low. I’d hit an emotional wall. It was late, I was tired, confused, and inappropriately aroused. I didn’t understand how or why. I didn’t know much about my sexuality or that I had such a tempered one until Ezra, who used it to manipulate me. And most times, it was fun. Tonight, it wasn’t. Considering the events of my day, it was too much. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what will please you or piss you the hell off.”

My eyes slowly rolled up to capture his scowl, which gave me my answer. After seconds of facing what at times I perceived to be the knight in shining armor that Ms. Remah pushed me to seek out a year ago, but in this moment was my enemy, he informed so quietly yet clearly, “I will settle the kitchen. You, downstairs. Wait for me.”

Something inside me tore. I didn’t know what it was, I had no time to tend to it. As he’d trained my mind and body, I acted upon his command without rebuttal and left the dining room. I made my way down to the sandbox after a rushed shower and dry tears. I wasn’t totally distraught, at least my body wasn’t. I felt the lubrication between my legs as I took the back stairs to the main level. When I made it to the purple pillow and got into position, I could feel a breeze against my exposed sex as it was soaked and open to the air.

That night, Ezra didn’t make me wait long. He came downstairs unceremoniously and guided me over to the bed. He arranged my wrists and ankles into a spreader bar, leaving my ass and sex once again, exposed as I lay on my shoulders, but this time for his viewing pleasure. I sniffled at the quiver of my pussy, anticipating him. It was sick. I was sick. Even when the first strike landed and I didn’t jolt as I did the first few times he spanked me. I could tell by the bite, Ezra used a riding crop. I hated those the most. It was too reminiscent of the first time he spanked me down here when I was ready to kill him. Tonight…his lashes held some semblance to then when I hadn’t known him at all. As he doled out blows I could feel the difference in the speed and impact of them. Two of them actually hurt and that corresponded with another tearing in my chest. But when he tossed it to the ground and finally breached me, I came at the usual rapid speed.