Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

M y insides are buzzing like a volcano on the verge of exploding. My whole body has been on fire since Saturday evening. I am furious with Ezra and the unfair game he is playing. For days, I’ve seen woman after woman leaving Ezra’s house. Never the same one twice, of course, and each one more beautiful than the last. None older than their mid-twenties.

He did draw the curtains, though, which was unusual. But that would have been the icing on the cake if he’d made a show of his activities. God damn it!

I know I shouldn’t get upset about it. I shouldn’t worry about him and should get on with my life. But there’s nothing I can do about the stabbing pain in my chest. The feeling that he deceived me is like a raging storm inside me. Too intense for me to ignore.

So, I distracted myself with housework. Now that my new garden shed has finally arrived at the end of the week, it’s a welcome change.

Sitting under my pavilion, I watch the workers tear down the old shed, dispose of the rotten boards, and gradually build the new one. I keep bringing them cold, homemade lemonade to help them stay refreshed in the heat. But unexpectedly, I hear loud hammering on the other side of the fence as I chat with the workers. The mere thought that Ezra is only a stone’s throw away from me triggers something in me. I can’t describe or place it. The emotions hit me like a tidal wave—uncontrollable and unstoppable.

I cautiously look over my shoulder to the fence, then into his house. Then I see him. Ezra, kneeling on his roof, continuing to replace his shingles. He must have gotten new material again because he has done nothing around the house for days. Or are you out of women and need to occupy yourself differently today? This nasty thought pops into my head, and I grimace in disgust.

I watch him momentarily as he fixes the shingles with powerful, bare-chested strokes. His skin shines with sweat, showing off his pronounced muscles. The sight hypnotizes me, and I can’t take my eyes off him.

At some point, he pauses, rests both hands on his thighs, and looks up at the sky with narrowed eyes, probably to take a deep breath. Unexpectedly, he turns his head, and our eyes meet. I flinch briefly because he’s caught me in the act. But then, when I regain my composure, I give him the cold shoulder and return my attention to the workers.

I don’t see or hear anything more from Ezra for the rest of the afternoon, which is fine. It doesn’t matter what he’s up to or who’s in his bed. I’m done with you; I repeat the words in my head as if they were my mantra so I won’t forget. Jesus, what are you doing to me?

I don’t want to think about Ezra, yet I do it repeatedly. I even miss him. This has to stop!

When the workers are finally finished and have packed up all their tools and materials, I inspect my new garden shed. I completely ignore the bitter aftertaste of the encounter Ezra and I had at the garden center in that exact model and try to enjoy the shed. Because it fits perfectly in my garden and that’s the most important thing.

The workers offered to help me place my gardening tools in the new shed, but I thankfully declined, gave them a considerable tip, and sent them on their way. I’m very particular and don’t let anyone mess with my system.

I inspect the shed from all sides to ensure everything is in order, and I’m satisfied.

“I’m glad you listened to me. It looks great.” His voice comes from behind me, and I turn to him.

Ezra is leaning against the shed’s doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He looks around the inside before his eyes meet mine. He’s probably had a shower after working on the rooftop and, luckily for me, is now fully clothed.

I swallow and take a small step back, the scent of his aftershave creeping into my nose and shaking my confidence. But I can’t make it that easy for him. I don’t want to give him any hint of his power over me. Especially not after the images of the last few days flood back into my mind. Within seconds, my blood is boiling with rage, and now that I see him standing in front of me, it’s hard to keep myself together.

The scene from yesterday morning. It eats deep into my soul like acid and makes my body burn thinking about it. As Ezra escorted his latest adventure outside, he kissed her passionately as if he didn’t want to let her go. She walked away with a big smile, and our eyes met when he turned back toward the house. He waved at me with a charming smile, as an ordinary neighbor would have. Like I meant nothing to him. That’s when I decided to just cut him out of my life if I didn’t want to spew lava like a volcano.

“Why such a bad mood, Beauty?”

Ezra pushes himself off the doorframe and steps thoroughly into the shed. It’s not necessarily small, but I’m alone with him right now, which makes it much smaller. It’s like the walls are closing in on us, and we’re forced to move closer and closer together so we don’t get squashed.

“I’m not in a bad mood. I’m not interested in your company. And since you seem to socialize enough, Mister King, I don’t see the point in continuing this conversation,” I counter plainly, lifting my chin slightly to emphasize my words.

The corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s amused by my behavior, which only makes me boil even more inside. God! This man!

A contemptuous snort leaves my mouth, and my eyebrow moves up dismissively as he steps a little closer to me. He seems to be trying to take me in even more. His damned smile grows wider and wider on his soft lips. Argh!

“I love your claws, little lioness,” he whispers, leaning toward me.

He is so close to me and completely envelops me in his scent. His lips brush delicately over my cheek, and I hold my breath.

“Just the thought of them trailing over my naked back, feeling them scratch my skin… the marks you would leave on my back… Do you know how hard that thought makes me, Beauty?” His voice is like a growl, which, unfortunately, goes right through me.

Hissing, I let out the collected air in my lungs because his words, closeness, and racing thoughts almost make me go crazy. Pull yourself together, Cora , I admonish myself and regain my pride.

I raise my chin confidently and withdraw from his touch. Our eyes meet again, and I try to ignore the enticing storm raging in his amber eyes.

“Fortunately, you’re always in the best company, Mr. King.”

“Indeed,” he replies with a grin. “I couldn’t be in better company right now,” he adds, leaning further toward me again.

But his words only make me roll my eyes and snort angrily. He could hardly have chosen a more cliché line. But it’s good for me because it brings me back to my anger, which instantly eats its way back through my veins.

“Don’t let your lovers hear that, Mr. King,” I scold him sternly.

The corner of his mouth twitches again as if he’s making fun of me. Something inside me snaps, and I can’t stop raising my hand. Before I reach his face, Ezra catches my hand in midair and pulls me close— so damn close —with a tug.

My breath is frantic and whips against his lips, which are only a few inches away.

“Was that a hiss? I want to hear you roar, little lioness,” he murmurs against my heated skin.

I want to say something back, rip his head off, and push him away from me once and for all, but Ezra doesn’t even give me the chance. As soon as I’ve gathered myself to hurl all the insults I can think of at him, he grabs my neck, presses me against him, and his soft lips collide with mine.

My head is spinning, and I can’t make sense of all the thoughts and emotions I’m drowning in, let alone understand them. As soon as his soft lips touch mine, I’m not just wax in his hands; my emotions change, too. Anger turns into passion, and disappointment into a burning fire that cannot be contained. In a matter of seconds, it sets my entire body on fire.

I am on fire. Burning brightly—only because of him. Ezra King, a young man who shouldn’t make me feel like this. And yet he does.

My arms wrap around his neck as if of their own accord. Just as my tongue plays with him as he enters my mouth, I can’t stop it; I can’t do anything about the desire for him and the violent throbbing in my belly.

Ezra pushes me against the nearest wall, presses my back against the varnished wood, and absorbs me entirely with his presence, kisses, and touch. His hand, rough from work, runs slowly from my cheek down my neck to over my collarbone. His mouth is raiding mine, and his steely body pressed firmly against mine clouded my senses.

As he caresses my breasts over my thin summer dress and then grips and kneads them firmly the next moment, I gasp into his mouth and lean toward his hand. I want more, so much more . Everything inside me longs for him, and I can no longer extinguish this voice, this desire, and this fire inside me. I want you, Ezra King!

That’s why I can’t keep my fingers to myself anymore and run them under his shirt. I devoutly trace his many—and, above all—damn pronounced abdominal muscles. I swallow hard as I realize how fit Ezra’s body really is. The sight and feel of his powerful physique are worlds apart. And I want to see more of this forbidden world, but above all, I want to taste it.

Our kisses become more and more passionate. His hand, which continues to knead my breast vigorously, drives me crazy, and I can feel my wetness dampen my panties. I want nothing more than for his fingers to slide into my wet heat. My panting becomes uncontrollable, and my entire body trembles. Then I feel it, his other hand, as it finally moves under my dress and caresses my naked thighs with an agonizing calmness. It’s almost like air caressing me. I can barely feel it, and yet it drives me crazy.

When he reaches my panties, Ezra hums deeply against my lips as he feels my wetness through the fabric. This sound gives me goosebumps; it’s so incredibly sexy that I can’t help myself. I grab his belt with both hands and try to undo it. But before I can even reach for the buckle, Ezra grabs both my hands and pins my wrists against the wall with just one hand above my head.

Breathlessly, he pulls away from my lips and looks at me with eyes clouded with lust. His typical grin slides across his soft lips.

“Roar for me, little lioness,” he breathes before he kisses me again, and at that moment, I feel his fingers as they slowly slide into my panties.

I close my eyes and willingly push my core toward him because I finally want to feel him inside me. But Ezra only gently caresses my folds without pushing them apart. He drives me mad, and I bite his lip out of frustration.

He interrupts our kiss with a grin and looks at me while gently caressing me. I bite down hard on my lower lip and plead with my gaze for him to touch me properly because I’m sure I’m about to combust otherwise.

“So impatient,” he murmurs, and his grin grows even bigger when he sees my blazing gaze.

Then he parts my folds with his fingers and makes me moan. He groans when he realizes how wet I already am for him. And he hasn’t touched me yet, which makes my body quiver even more.

Ezra looks at me as I enjoy his fingers gliding through my folds and playing with my throbbing clit. Again and again, I have to close my eyes in pleasure and bite my lip to stop myself from moaning unrestrainedly. I rub my core against his hand, intensifying his touch with every move.

Suddenly, Ezra pushes two fingers into my tightness. I can’t hold on any longer and moan loudly. Leaning my head back against the wall and pressing my core against him, I stand here and let this young god finger me out of my mind. Holy mother, how good will it feel when you’re not using your fingers…

As he curls his fingers at the right angle inside me, I moan in pleasure and shock at the same time and look at him in disbelief.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I whisper.

Ezra grins darkly as he carefully pulls his fingers out of my tightness, and I feel empty instantly. He holds his fingers, glistening with my wetness, between us before brushing them against my lips. He spreads my wetness on my lips before pushing his fingers into my mouth. I lick and suck on them automatically, tasting myself and letting the sensation intoxicate me.

“Let me taste you,” he growls excitedly, pulls his fingers out of my mouth, and kisses me ravenously. Ezra dominates this kiss, as well as every fiber of my being.

His hand moves back between my already soaking-wet thighs, and with a powerful thrust, he plunges two fingers inside me once more and fucks me with fast and demanding thrusts of his hand. In combination with his tongue dominating my mouth, he brings me closer and closer to the edge, and I moan into his mouth. I push myself rhythmically against his hand as if he were fucking me with his cock, and right now, I want nothing more than for him to do just that.

But Ezra only grants me his fingers, which he thrusts faster into my tightness in a curved position, and his thumb, which massages my clit more intensely by the second.

“Come for me, Beauty,” he mumbles in my ear, and I climax as soon as he has uttered these words.

He swallows my unrestrained moans with his kisses. My whole body trembles and shakes before the fireworks explode inside me, catapulting me into another dimension. Fireworks, and it’s all because of his fingers! Damn…

Breathless, I look up at him and feel the orgasm that I shouldn’t have had gradually subside. The throbbing and twitching slowly sets in. Then it hits me: the realization, followed by disillusionment. What have I done?

“Breathe, Beauty,” his deep voice calls me back to the present, and I look into his eyes, startled.

He carefully pulls his fingers out of me and releases my wrists before resting his hands on the wood next to my head, still holding me in place. His gaze is gentle and understanding as if he already knows about the little nervous breakdown I’m about to have, even though it hasn’t even happened yet.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper chokingly because the thick lump in my throat doesn’t allow any more words.

“Nothing happened, Beauty. You did nothing wrong,” he tries to cheer me up, but my guilty conscience threatens to suffocate me.

I feel so bad because even though Ezra and I didn’t have sex, I had an orgasm through a man other than my husband. TWICE!

Because even the revelation that I wasn’t imagining it in my backyard the other night is the next painful slap in the face I must deal with. I hoped that if I was imagining it, it was all in my head because then it wouldn’t have been cheating. My throat tightens, and I threaten to choke because all of this is just too much.

“This…” I begin in a brittle voice. “This never happened!” I push past him and hurry out of the shed.

I must get out of here because everything in here smells of sex and betrayal. I can’t deal with it, and I don’t want to because I’m still married and it can’t happen again. Never.

I run into my house, close the patio door, and stop to look behind me again for reasons I don’t understand. And I immediately regret it because Ezra is standing at the back of my garden with his head tilted back, looking straight at me. It’s as if I’ve locked him out. There is no better way to describe this situation, and this realization breaks my heart.

I feel torn as he turns away and again jumps over the fence with an impressive leap and out of my life. At least, that’s how it feels at that moment.