In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2)

by Belvin, Love

  “Oh, mi gad!” Ms. Remah shrieked as Alexis and I exchanged gazes.

  She poured another shot of Hennessey and chucked it back, the burn reflected in her faltering scowl as her eyes blinked successively. When she went for the third, I knew I had to speak up.

  “Is there a problem, beloved?”

  “Don’t call me that!” Alexis screamed. “Is that what you call her, too? Are names assigned to fucking concubines in Redeeming Souls?”

  I angled my head, attempting to decipher her rage.

  “Who is ‘her’, beloved?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Don’t! Fucking! Call! Me! That!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Lexi!” Ms. Remah yelled as well.

  I took a calming breath against the ire rising within, my eyes retreated as my mind raced. Something happened to her at work—at RSfALC. The possibilities of what that could have been began to file in. But before I could play the guessing game, I had to calm Alexis and prevent her from taking a fourth shot of the brown juice. I watched as she took her third.

  I shifted to face her. “Alexis, please tell me what is troubling you,” I delivered with surprising aplomb.

  Her eyes grew and neck popped. “Oh, now I’m one of your damn patients? Tell me, oh mask, which man are you presenting today? Because I got something for all their asses! Bring ‘em out!” she shouted through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, mi gad! Whut dun got tuh yuh now?” Ms. Remah demanded with her hand on her hip.

  Alexis’ wild reddened eyes shot over to Ms. Remah. “He has! That’s what has!”

  “Ms. Remah, please give Alexis and me a moment alone to clear this up before dinner.”

  Ms. Remah grunted as she turned for the back doors. She fired off a few things under her breath along the way. When we were alone, Alexis turned to face me.

  “Do you want to start this over?” I asked with more bite, my patience dwindling.

  “Maybe we should! Maybe you started with the wrong bitch!” I flinched at that. “Maybe you should’ve started with that pageant ass, prissy bitch in the first place! Why drag a clueless Harlem thoroughbred into this disgusting ring of man-sharing bullshit that you and your peeps got going on at Redeeming Souls?”

  My eyes squinted and extended in confusion. “Who are you speaking about, Alexis?” Please don’t say—

  “Precious!” she screamed. “You know who I’m talking about!”

  “And how am I even remotely tied to her?”

  “According to the “Nurses Ministry””—she used air quotations—“she’s damn near your second wife!” she spat, incensed by the mere mention of it, and turned to pour another shot.

  I leaped over to her, snatched the bottle from her shaking hands and pushed the neck of the bottle down the drain. How did she know about the Nurses Ministry—the one auxiliary I loathed?

  “What the fuck are you doing?” she gasped and tried to pull the bottle from my grip as I held it to drain down the pipe.

  “What did Precious say to you about that ministry, Alexis?”

  She pulled and pushed against my hold of the bottle fruitlessly. I would not remove my hand until it was empty.

  “Answer me!” I demanded.

  She jumped back, surprised at my tone. It was becoming more and more difficult to rein in my temper. My wife comes home in an explosive fit after her first day five minutes ago and I don’t have a clue as to how to fix it, calm her rage. And my own, teeming.

  There was a stretch of silence. Something weaving in her mind, something unknown to me, but for once she didn’t yell.

  Coarsely she murmured, “Marva spoke in a roundabout way, but was very direct.”

  “Marva who?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “I didn’t know her last name at first because when she ambushed me in Precious’ office, Precious only introduced her as Marva. She made me feel like I had to go to this meeting and I did. She said that at the church, the women had roles. Those in this group are nurses, assistants to the ministerial staff. Some of the women were wives, and the ones who weren’t…” Her eyes glossed over. “They all had assignments in the group. They were assigned to a minister and took care of things the wives couldn’t.”

  My eyes squeezed shut.

  Christ…

  “Oh! So, it’s true! Your sneaky ass married me to get me in some twisted church people shit? You really want to fuck Precious? Why didn’t you just marry her! Why get innocent people wrapped up in your cult bullshit!”

  “You will do well to not hurl another profanity in my home!” I grated with widened nostrils.

  “You sick son of a bitch,” she muttered, eyes blank and body trembling. “You set me up. That was the gotcha-gotcha. This sister-wives club is what you wanted into. I asked you that night to come clean with your motives and you made up some shit about being a hot-blooded man, needing to let it loose. Like a fool, I allowed you to let it loose with me. I fell for it. It was easy for you. I was unemployed and broke. I needed a job and you had me believe this job was on my own merit. But you’d been plotting this all along.”

  I scoffed. “Oh, I’ve been plotting, but not even I could come up with the debauchery you described.”

  She lunged toward me and slapped my face. The stinging burn forced a flash of stimulation. My balls tensed then leaped, pulse thrummed heatedly in my veins. I hadn’t been hit in years; until Alexis, hadn’t struck flesh in as long. My twisted propensity to violence made that abrupt act send electrical pulses to my groin. I had only seconds to get my arousal under control. I had to quickly gain the reins of this confrontation.

  I bent into her face. “If you ever hit me again, I will—”

  Alexis stepped closer, pushing her chest into mine. “You will what?” she yelled, provoking a reaction. She was enraged, violent, and ready to engage in a physical altercation. It made me think of those men she fought as a child. It was clear to me that she was in the throes of epileptic rage. “Spank me?” Her wild eyes flipped, revelatory. “You’ve fucked her. Have you spanked her? Probably not. Spank me, Ezra!”

  My dick twitched against the fabric of my pants.

  “I will not—”

  Her eyes went from wild to crestfallen. “Do it!” She quickly backed up and yanked her blouse over her head, exposing her breasts, nipples straining through the lace fabric. “Give me something you’ve never given her, Ezra! Show me the beast, even if it hurts!” She pulled her skirt off and kicked off her shoes.

  No…

  I’ve wanted this dark intimate life with Alexis, but never had I desired to handle all of our problems in the sandbox. I didn’t want to employ the practices of sadism. But it was here. The time had arrived. Alexis displayed signs of a masochist. I could tell by the way the muscles in her face had gone lax and she swayed her hips instinctively and arched her spine, forcing her breasts to protrude as she approached me that my kitten was aroused. I saw the first tear drop from the pool in her lids. That didn’t stop her. She brushed pass me, en route for the hall leading to the basement.

  I briskly caught her by the arm. “You’re approaching drunk. You’ll never see my cock in this condition.”

  Alexis inhaled and hocked, prepared to spit in my face. I grabbed her cheeks in an unforgiving grip.

  “You must have lost your God-given cognitive process!” I whispered forcefully centimeters away from her flared nose.

  And there it was again that split moment given to make the right decision. Those flash seconds of time one has to make a call. Several scenarios raced my mind, several could have resulted in quieted discontent, but a peaceful end to what turned out to be an unsuccessful day. But Alexis’ blatant provocation of my dominant nature had made the decision already. I had to address my wife effectively, and none of those options consisted of her ending this night without tears and yelps of correction. My dick bucked and I could hear heated blood rushing in my head.

  “You’re topping from the bottom again, but if you insist, kitten.”


  I tossed her over my shoulder and paced quickly to the basement door. After unlocking it, I plopped down the stairs hastily not caring about Alexis’ discomfort. I bypassed her kneeling pillow and tossed her directly onto the bed. Within the spell of seconds, I rapidly stretched her wide and captured her wrists in the handcuffs attached to the bedpost. As I leaped athletically to the bottom, working against her realization, I heard her gasp.

  “Wait!” she shrieked. “I said spank me!”

  By this time, I’d secured her left and cinched the strap around her ankle. She kicked her right foot wildly to prevent me from seizing it futilely. I caught it and bound it to the wide leather cuffs.

  “What are you doing?” Alexis grunted, pushing against the restraints.

  I backed away to the drawer of the cabinetry and retrieved a pair of shears. My blood pounded in my ears at this time. My mouth salivated, but I held on to the thread of control I could muster as I climbed the bed to straddle her. It took seconds to cut her bra from her chest and even less to do the same to her lace panties.

  “I said spank me, Ezra! Get me the fuck out of these!” she yanked hard with her wrists and kicked violently with her ankles.

  Her wild movements afforded the sight of her pink pussy, glistening with her undercurrent of emotions. Alexis had lost the mark between pleasure and pain. She had been anticipating pain and it aroused her to an extreme degree. I exhaled hard, my head meeting my shoulders. My kitten had arrived. She had been inducted into the dark world I’d been training her for. Here would be another lesson. I backed away, watching her squirm over the satin sheets like an erotic temptress. Like Yaroslav I, too, had old depravities that were difficult to overcome.

  I went upstairs, closed the door and sauntered quietly into the kitchen. I pulled out a plate and fork and went about fixing my dinner. I ate at the dining room table alone as I pondered my next move. I struggled against my own rage as I considered how I’d fix this mess my father’s mistress had ensued on my household.

  Marva and Precious had roped and netted Alexis to that meeting. It was Marva’s response to my warning to her at the First Lady’s Brunch. When my father proved powerless, she figured another way to retaliate.

  Well played, Sister Graham.

  Alexis I would handle soon enough. Her deliberate series of transgressions this evening had to be addressed. I could not have my wife believing another day that it was acceptable to bring hard liquor into our home, confront me in a non-private manner, with profanity, the use of violence, and without having all of her facts straight. She had already determined I’d plotted against her and designed a world of polygamy for her to live in. That was an incredulous accusation, but apparently empirical in her raging mind.

  After I cleared my plate and had a full belly to act on, I cleaned up behind myself. I headed into my office, sat behind my desk and dialed the number to set in motion my next move on the board.

  Lex

  “What the fuck you coming in here crying about now, Lex?”

  My mother shot from her recliner near the front door in the living room. I maintained a purposeful stride back to my room. My diaphragm in overdrive as I held my breath. I just needed to get to my room before I could break down. I hadn’t expected her in the living room at this hour.

  “You heard what the hell I said, girl!” she shouted, now on my heels.

  I had to face the music. There was no way I could ignore her. Plus, I was hurt and needed some semblance of allegiance; I needed to feel like someone had my back. I leaped backward to face her.

  “Jamie and Tawanda tried to play me!” Unbidden emotions exploded, tears bursting unwillingly from my lids.

  “How?” she asked lowly, twisting her neck as she crossed her arms at her chest.

  She was already posing intimidatingly.

  “Her cousin, Keona, from Brooklyn came through today. She supposed to go for bad. Her and Jamie got into an argument then she swung on Jamie and I jumped in. Keona tried to jump bad and I told her I wasn’t scared of her. She said she was gone slap the shit outta me and I told her to try it…” I used my sleeve to dry my face.

  “And?” my mother asked impatiently, nostrils flared.

  “Then Jamie gon’ say I need to mind my business before her cousin beat me up. I said she wish! And then Tawanda butted in saying I needed to shut up because Brooklyn go harder than Harlem World. I said, ‘not me.’ Then Keona started taking off her earrings like she wanted to fight. And Jamie started laughing, saying I was about to get my ass beat. Tawanda was jumping up and down, saying she couldn’t wait and started calling everybody over!”

  I bawled my eyes out at the end, feeling good about getting it all out. Jamie and Tawanda were my best friends at the time. We spent countless nights at one another’s houses.

  “And?” my mother screamed again.

  Hardly able to breathe as I covered my face, crippled in pain. “And nothing. I came home. They ain’t my real friends.”

  I heard the slap first then felt the blunt force to the side of my face before I fell into the wall.

  “You shoulda whooped Keona ass first then Jamie then Tawanda! You a fucking punk now, Lex?” WHACK! “Rasul ain’t been locked up two days now and you in battles.” WHACK! WHACK! She pulled me up by my ponytail and met my face with an open palm. The pummelings came back to back all over my head, back, and arms because I wouldn’t uncover my face. “You never let no bitches double team you. You take them all down and show ‘dem not to fuck with you again! Now they gon’ keep coming!”

  I didn’t know how many slaps and punches landed, because I’d escaped into my head at some point after she advised those last words.

  As I lay on the oversized bed, bound by my wrists and ankles, all I could think was how I wished I could’ve articulated in that moment, with my mother, that I didn’t leave because I thought I couldn’t take Keona—she was way smaller than my giant height—but I ran because I felt betrayed by my closest friends. I jumped in to save Jamie and she turned around and flipped on me. Those years were hard as an unlearned child. I pitied myself for still finding myself being the recipient of betrayal. Now motionless on the bed, my diaphragm beat in a fit, face was wet with defeat. Weary, my mind running with how I should have cussed all of them the fuck out!

  I’d been reeling from the betrayal, and that was reasonable. What was disturbing was my level of arousal from the moment the idea of Ezra spanking me came to mind up in the kitchen. Just like the first time he’d done when I’d flipped out on him, I asked him to do it. Shit, I begged him to—this time for different reasons. I did it because I wanted to rush past the period of pain to feel the pleasure that came as a result of the spanking. Ezra’s spankings were the only source of pain that could bring me immeasurable pleasure. I still hadn’t understood how this was possible; I had no one to discuss it with. Hell, I could feel the lubrication from my sex against my upper thighs under the aroma and of the room alone.

  Another bizarre fact I’d realized was that he’d had the ability to betray me. I’d only known him just over six months and didn’t understand how I’d allowed him access to my core. Sex alone couldn’t have done that no matter how good it was. I also knew being down here brought an incredible sense of closeness to him. A closeness I’d found myself craving. Ezra made me feel needy. He had me seeking out his approval and looking forward to his praises. I hadn’t done these things since I was a kid, trying to behave in order to keep my mother mentally balanced.

  That incident with Jamie and Tawanda felt no different than this issue with Ezra, Precious and Marva. I had agreed to this thing with Ezra only to have him turn around and leave me hanging, vulnerable to the vultures. All I could think in that moment was ‘what could I do that would have me walking out of here unscathed.’ I could have easily wounded them all with my words alone. None would dare lift a finger to initiate a fight. They were all too damn prissy for that. I could’ve taken them all, but the blinds being removed from my eyes regardin
g Ezra’s plans killed my spirit.

  My left shoulder jolted as a ping shot from my groin. In less than seconds, my right repeated the same abrupt movement. Then all went still, and I swallowed hard. Another spike of pleasure, my pelvis lurched in the air. I struggled against sudden arousal, preferring my ruminative thoughts of chronic pain and betrayal. My nipples felt tight…deliciously hard at the apexes. Goosebumps spread from my neck down my arms to my fingers, descended from my neck to my breasts, and my legs shuffled against the slippery fabric. At the stirring of my core, my eyes burst open and I sputtered to breathe.

  I realized I’d retreated some place in my mind when my vision cleared to him. Ezra was at the foot of the bed, bare from the chest down to the bottom of his swollen lower abdominal muscles. His pants were without a belt, unbuttoned, but zipped midway revealing a trail of jet black, silky, wiry hairs. His arms were folded at the chest, pushing his biceps and chest muscles forward indecently. The tips of his left hand gripped his bearded chin as he posed contemplatively with his eyes fixed between my legs. My eyes followed his line of vision and ears popped simultaneously. The motor hummed low, but the vibrations of the purple thunderstick—a powerful ass vibrator he’d used several times to strip me of all independent thinking—leaning against my sex was hardly faint.

  And… fuck…

  I was tipping an orgasm.

  My pelvis bucked, body giving in to the pleasure. I didn’t want to succumb, didn’t exactly ask for this, and didn’t recall working up to it. But goddamn, I was so close. I bit my bottom lip and pushed my hips down on the bed. When my eyes rolled to the back of my head to allow the impending sensation to wash me over, the vibrating stimulation was gone. My eyes flew open.

  Ezra stood there, holding the thunderstick in his hand as he gazed down on me expectantly.

  As I tried catching my breath, I thought, This again…

  Was that how he would ‘punish’ me after I checked him about his mistress who didn’t have to be a mistress but for their sick cult?