by Belvin, Love
“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.
“Mine,” he grunted, plummeting in me. In fact, I came three times from his deep drives into my core. “Mine!” he’d growl each time I came for him.
No matter how much Ezra had trained my body, in my heart I had my answer from earlier. All of my work of having him see me as more than his sandbox partner had been in vain.
fifteen
Lex
The next morning at the office, there was a knock at my door.
“What’s up, Eddie?” I used the nickname I had for Eduardo.
It was what his family and friends called him, but no one at work. He turned out to be a damn good outreach worker. I’d gone out with him a few evenings when Ezra was away, having nothing better to do with my time. I did it to see what Christ Cares encountered at night when trying to offer sexually transmitted disease testing, coats, and food vouchers for those returning for test results from a van that’s tricked out on the inside to resemble a clinic room.
“You funny!” he jeered. “There’s some people downstairs asking for you in the lobby.”
“Oh,” I frowned then quickly remembered the box of sanitary napkins we were donating to a local shelter. The manager of the facility was coming to pick it up. “Oh!” I shrieked louder. “Thanks!”
I jumped from my desk headed out into the hall where the large box was. In my heels, I warily took off down the stairs. I miscounted a step and although I didn’t slip, when I didn’t feel the carpet where I thought the landing was I braced myself, tensing my whole frame as I gripped the box into me too hard. I felt a pinch in my abdomen and that nip knocked me off balance a little.
“Shit!” I cried unexpectedly, but not too loud.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I heard crooned from behind me as hands covered mine and a body provided a break in my fall, though I didn’t need it. “No worries, I got you, baby.” He giggled.
The voice sounded familiar. It was greasy as hell and he wouldn’t let go, even met my ass with his pelvis.
I wiggled out of his hold. When I turned to face him, still holding the box, Wilkinson sported a sleazy, distrustful smile. Any time before being married, I could’ve handled him just as I’d done any other unwanted attention from a man. But this was the man that was the root cause of the current bruises marring my ass and hips. Each time I had them, I relished their aches reminiscing on how they got there. Today, I winced every time I recalled Ezra’s brutal handling of me last night.
“Don’t ever touch me again in your life! Do you understand me?” I spoke through gritted teeth.
“Hey! Young lady!” A big man in a black suit warned, accent thickly southern. “This is a man of God!”
“What’s going on here?” I shifted with the box in my hands to find Precious, righting her coat on her shoulders.
I shifted again and Wilkinson and I remained silent as he smiled at my glare. I wanted to knock the shit out of him. We stood out in the middle of the main level in the small hall, just before the entrance. He looked to be leaving with Precious, so I begged my temper to ebb.
“Is there a problem?” a familiar rasp sounded.
I didn’t pivot to find him. I’d have much rather disappeared. My heart doubled in speed.
No!
Things went quiet for a while. Dangerous silence answered there was a problem. Ezra stepped toward me and removed the box from my death grip. When I saw the beard that covered almost half his face my mouth went dry.
“Oh, that was you, Lex?” Another familiar voice sounded.
“Daddy?” I asked in disbelief.
My father stepped out of the small reception area where there were four waiting chairs and approached us.
“Yeah,” he answered. “If I’da known that was you, I woulda’ been on it! You good?”
From that tone I could tell he’d heard my warning to Wilkinson, who still hadn’t uttered a word. Ezra’s eyes narrowed as he processed what had been said and what hadn’t. I didn’t want a showdown here at work—hell, at all! There was no way I could tell Ezra another man had touched me inappropriately.
“I’m good. I promise!” I tried to convince him…and Ezra.
“Pastor,” black suit spoke. That’s when I realized he was a body guard. “You need to teach your people ‘round here how ta’ respect the collar. This a church business. We ain’t in the streets, now!”
My eyes raced to Ezra’s, wild and ready to explode. An amused smile spread on Ezra’s face. A pleased one.
“Yes, in fact, I perhaps should,” he answered peering directly at me. I wanted to exhale my relief. Ezra placed the box on the floor, against the wall then turned to Wilkinson and Precious. “Please…” he shifted out of the path we blocked. “I take it you two were leaving.”
Precious smiled uneasily as she breezed past us. She was uncomfortable. Maybe because she’d been caught by her crush, sneaking out on a date with his enemy. Wilkinson followed Precious sans a smile, and the big guy in black followed him. But my father remained. What was he doing there? This was all too crazy.
Ezra must have had the same question from the way he glared at my father. Rasul straightened his shoulders, a sign of discomfort.
I swallowed my own discomfort. “I was told
someone was here for me and assumed it was a work associate.” I couldn’t exactly ask what he was doing here. It would’ve been rude.
My father’s eyes peeled from a waiting Ezra. The tension between these two was so thick you would never know how much I’ve kept them apart. I didn’t understand it.
“I ‘on’t want nothing,” he hissed, tossing out the obvious. “I’m good. I can’t come build wit’ my daughter at her job no more?” He threw Ezra a cold stare with that one.
“Okay…” I said to break that war of bravado.
“You remember Gina daughter, Kema?”
“No?” I felt my face hardened. I didn’t remember a Gina.
“From St. Nick, by where the old pub used to be?” Still nothing. “C’mon, man!” he cried frustrated. “The pretty girl…she had a baby not too long ago?”
I continued with my blank face. He was frustrated and if I wasn’t so drawn to his cologne, I would have forgotten Ezra was standing there, listening.
Giving up, he exhaled and turned. “C’mere, baby girl. Let her see you.”
I glanced beyond him, curious about who in the hell he was bringing to my job. I didn’t need this shit! My job was the only good thing I had going on for me. The only thing that separated me from the streets had Ezra and I failed.
Then she came into view, walking slowly as if she were pulling something behind her. It was Kema with little Noel. I hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever.
“Kema!” I yelped. “Oh, my god! He’s getting so big!” I covered my mouth as she picked him up and dumped the baby on her hip. “He walks?”
The sight of them brought about an overwhelming nostalgia. It was my old world…in my new place.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“She got into some trouble and need some help. I ran into her momma and figured you two knew each other, so I brought her here.” My father’s eyes went to Ezra, silently gloating for having a legitimate reason for showing up unannounced.
“Are you okay?” I worried suddenly.
“Yeah,” she gave a sideways smile. It was dry, and not alarming so I was relieved. “But I ain’t got no place to stay no more.”
