Chapter Thirty-One
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I WANT YOU TO COME WITH ME
ELOISE
Ezra’s been quiet since I got here, sitting on his brand-new sectional with his elbows on his knees. His eyes haven’t met mine, and he hasn’t acknowledged my presence in the slightest.
There’s a large television mounted to the far wall, and he’s even gotten a coffee table. His house is starting to look like a home. It’s all I can focus on as we sit here, neither of us speaking.
What was the motive here?
What was the motive for any of this?
The silence goes on and I refuse to be the one to break it. I did my part. I showed up.
Should I just leave ? —
“What’s hardened your heart?” His head hangs down for a second before he peers over at me. I’ve loved and hated the sight of his assessing gaze. In this moment, I can’t decide.
The answer to his question is easy. It’s one that didn’t require years of therapy and thousands of dollars to accept. “I fell in love with the men in stories I’d read. No one else could ever compare.”
And they could never leave .
I step toward him, unable to fight our magnetism as he mulls over my confession.
“And you would trade this for your precious books?” He reaches out and takes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “You’d take pages upon pages of stories that are inspired by what we’re creating here?”
“We knew what we were getting into,” I start. “Don’t do this.”
“God, it’s so fucked up, but I want to be the first man to break your heart,” he murmurs, still staring at me.
I wonder just how fucked up a man has to be to admit something so heinous.
When I try to pull my hand from his grip, he jerks me back by my wrist, imprisoning me with his eyes and his smile.
“I want to be so loved by you that every empty space pokes at your heart a little. Can I be that, Eloise?” His wild eyes search mine for an answer. “Can I be the man that causes an ache beneath your breast when I walk away, even when you know I’ll return?”
I don’t say anything, rubbing my wrist when he finally lets go.
He stands and paces the room for a moment before stopping to stare at me. “Truth or dare?” he asks.
“Dare,” I murmur, too uneasy to give him any more honesty.
“Take your clothes off,” he commands, yanking his tie away from his neck, making quick work of untying it and tossing it on the floor.
I’m enveloped in this whirlwind of emotions; I’m suffering from whiplash as he removes his shirt from his body and tosses it on the floor as well.
“What do you want from me, Ezra?” I ask, trying to gauge how ready he is, even as my body warms at the sight of his.
“Don’t make me say it again,” he says, his tone hard as he comes toward me again, pulling me closer and staring into my eyes. “If this is the only way I can have you, so be it.”
I let him pull my dress from my body, quaking as the buttons scatter to the floor just as he kisses me.
It doesn’t feel right, calling it something as simple as a kiss.
This is acquiescence of the highest caliber.
This is a king kneeling for a queen.
A soldier laying down his arms in return for a few more weeks of peace.
I gasp as he yanks away my bra, the snapping sound the strap makes confirming it’s broken. It slides along the floor after he throws it, uncaring.
At the sound of banging on the front door, I pull away and place my arms over my bare chest.
He stares at me, his glittering eyes hard. “Wait here.”
The moment he leaves the room, I reach for the shirt he wore, pulling it on and lifting the collar to inhale his scent. I’ve missed it.
I’ve missed him.
When I hear the door open, I tiptoe toward the couch, hoping to stay out of view.
“Well, well. Look what the fuck we have here,” I hear a man say, his voice booming through the quiet house.
And I wonder if Ezra’s in some kind of trouble.
“Ivan,” I hear him say in lieu of greeting. Footsteps fall but they don’t make it where I am.
“Where’s the lucky lady? Hiding upstairs?” the voice asks.
I clutch the shirt closer to my body, as if it can protect me, knowing that this person somehow knows I’m here.
“Why are you here?” Ezra asks, his voice still steady, deep and confident.
“Rumor has it, you have been dipping your dick in the cute little brunette from the bookstore.” There’s a chuckle and then, “Yeah, I saw the contract when I was going through your emails. I know what you’ve been up to.”
My heartbeat quickens as I listen, unsure of what’s about to take place here.
“I suggest you be mindful of what you’re about to say next.”
“What are you gonna do? Run to the board members and have me removed? Wait, you already did that, you scumbag motherfucker.”
Ivan’s voice is raised at this point, and I have to lean forward to hear Ezra’s quiet response.
“You were ruining our business, thinking with your dick, and making shady deals with good people behind my back,” Ezra utters, quiet anger ringing in his tone.
“I was making you richer so you could pay for pussy, since it seems like that’s your kink now?—”
There’s movement and grunts and I turn the corner to find the man who’d been in the bookstore with Ezra falling back into the front door, blood on his lip and a quickly swelling eye.
“When you’re done sucking this motherfucker dry, I’ll show you a better time,” he slurs to me before sliding to the floor.
“I’m calling the police,” I say, still clutching Ezra’s shirt close to my body, trying to stay covered.
“Don’t,” he says, his chest expanding and decompressing at an accelerated rate. He doesn’t look at me, his eyes still on Ivan, who is slowly getting to his feet.
“Ezra—”
“Damn it, just go home, Eloise,” he shouts, grabbing the other man by his collar before tossing him farther into the house and out of my way so I can leave. “Listen to me for once! ”
And I do. As Ezra stands between us, almost as if to shield us from one another, I finally listen.
I run past them, tripping over nothing, wearing nearly nothing, and race toward my car, hoping I never feel this cheap ever again.
It was my own fault, my own damning here and I couldn’t fault Ezra for the way his business partner had spoken to me. I knew what the contract sounded like from the moment he introduced it to me. Knew how dirty it made me feel and knew that was a large part of the reason why I didn’t want anyone to know about us.
Because even if they didn’t know about the contract itself, I knew what it looked like. Like I was selling pussy to keep the bookstore from going bankrupt.
On the way home, I pass places I’ve been to once or twice; bars with music blaring, people stumbling out of the doors in sinful pairs.
Shame.
Is this all there is to their lives?
I’m not sure it’s all I want for mine.
Certainly not me in panties and a man’s dress shirt, racing away from the man who made lust feel more luxurious than it’s worth; painting it to look like love.
Ezra’s voice taunts me from my too recent memories.
“I want you to come with me.”
Never.