Chapter Six #2
Ezra had to get out of that room. He shoved back from the table hard enough to rattle a coffee mug and stalked out of the conference room like the air was choking him.
Ricky was on his heels instantly.
“Ezra!” he called, tone sharp. “Come on—don’t do this again.”
Ezra didn’t stop. Not until he reached the door to the lounge of Ricky’s suite.
He slammed the door open and stepped inside.
Ricky followed and kicked it shut behind him.
Ezra turned on him, eyes already glowing with fury and something dangerously close to heartbreak. “Why does it have to be you?”
Ricky blinked. “Because I can do it. Because I know how to get in and out without getting caught. Because I’ve done this before, and it’s not about proving anything—”
“No!” Ezra snapped. “It’s about you walking into something I can’t protect you from. And if something happens to you—if they take you—I won’t get that chance again.”
Ricky’s breath caught. “Ezra—”
“I don’t want you hurt, damn it!” Ezra shouted. “I don’t want you bleeding for someone else’s ghosts. I don’t want you dying for mine.”
Ricky moved closer, voice lower now, intense. “This is what I do. It’s what I’ve always done. And this mission isn’t yours to gatekeep. We all lost Van. We all want his daughter safe. You don’t get to make this just about you.”
Ezra didn’t answer. His jaw worked, eyes dark and wet and blazing with something rawer than anger. Fuck Ricky and his logic.
Then he turned sharply and stormed toward the bedroom. Ricky followed, slower this time, already knowing the pattern.
Ezra flung the bedroom door open and crossed to the far wall, pacing like he wanted to punch something but didn’t know what.
“You keep walking away from me,” Ricky said, his voice gravel-soft.
Ezra turned, slow and burning. “And you keep following.”
The silence stretched—simmered—until it cracked open between them.
“Then let’s finish it,” Ricky said.
Ezra didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
He crossed the room in three steps, grabbed Ricky’s shirt, and kissed him like a man who had just run out of excuses.
Ezra kissed him like he was starving. No hesitation, no guarded edges. Just hands in Ricky’s hair, body flush, mouth hungry and bruising. And Ricky ... he gave it right back. One hand at Ezra’s jaw, the other gripping his hip like he needed to hold him still or risk losing him all over again.
They broke apart only long enough for Ricky to strip his shirt over his head and for Ezra to yank off his hoodie. Then they were skin to skin, pressed so tightly together they could feel each other's heartbeats, fast and thunderous.
Ezra backed up toward the bed, knees hitting the mattress, dragging Ricky down with him in a tangle of limbs and breath and heat.
Clothes were discarded with unceremonious urgency—kicked off, peeled away, until there was nothing left but hot skin and the burn of memory.
Ezra rolled them, hovering over Ricky, breath ragged. “Need to taste you.”
Ricky arched up, his hands trailing down Ezra’s ribs. “Then stop stalling.”
Ezra grinned—wild, sharp—and shifted down, pressing a line of kisses along Ricky’s chest, his stomach, the scar beneath his navel. Then he slid lower, lips wrapping around Ricky’s cock and he smiled when he heard Ricky’s head hit the pillow with a thud.
But before he could fully fall into it, Ricky tugged at Ezra’s thigh, urging him upward. “Turn around.”
Ezra hesitated then swung a leg over and settled above him.
Ricky groaned a sound of pure need. He didn’t wait.
He leaned up, wrapped his lips around Ezra just as Ezra moaned around him again—and for a long, perfect moment, they moved together. Mouths. Hands. Heat. A rhythm older than grief and sharper than forgiveness.
It was messy. Desperate. Beautiful.
Ezra came up for air first, pulling off with a gasp, shuddering as Ricky’s mouth left him. He rolled off to the side, chest heaving, and looked over at his lover—really looked.
“Last time,” Ricky said, voice quiet. “After we ... that night. You walked out before I woke up.”
Ezra’s heart ached at the hurt in his lover’s tone. “I know. And I—”
“I wasn’t just mad,” Ricky interrupted. “I was wrecked. Because that night wasn’t just sex for me.” He sat up, spine tense. “I’d never done that before. With anyone.”
Ezra’s eyes widened. “You were—?”
Ricky nodded. “Yeah. I gave you something I’d never trusted anyone else with. And waking up alone? It felt like I didn’t matter. Like it was just a hookup to you. Like I’d only imagined it meant more.”
Ezra sat up slowly, knees folding beneath him, stunned.
“Ricky... Jesus. I thought you’d had a dozen lovers.
You were so ... confident. In control. I never would’ve guessed—” He swore under his breath.
“That night was the best of my life. I didn’t walk because it meant nothing.
I walked because it meant too much. I was chasing Van’s trail.
Trying to pick up where he left off. I didn’t realize.
.. I didn’t know I’d left that kind of wound behind. ”
“You did,” Ricky said, softly. “But you’re here now.”
Ezra reached out, brushing fingers along Ricky’s jaw. “Let me fix it. Let me give you what you gave me.”
Ricky stilled. “Ezra...”
“I’ve never let anyone in. Not like that,” Ezra admitted. “Not fully. I’ve had sex, sure, but I’ve never... I’ve never had that kind of intimacy. I was always the one in control. Always the one taking, never trusting someone enough to let them have me. But I trust you, Ricky. I want you.”
Ricky’s breath hitched. Ezra leaned in, voice trembling. “I want you to be my first. All the way. If you still want that.”
Ricky’s jaw clenched as he nodded, hands framing Ezra’s face. “Fuck, yeah. I want that. I want you.”
Ezra lay back, heart pounding, legs open and inviting. For the first time since they’d met, he felt vulnerable. Not weak—never that. Just open.
And for the first time in his life, Ezra felt cherished.
Ricky didn’t rush. Didn’t treat this like a victory or a performance. He slowed everything down, like he understood without being told that Ezra needed the space to breathe.
His mouth moved in soft trails across Ezra’s skin—down his chest, over his ribs, pausing at the scar beneath his sternum like it mattered. Ezra’s breath hitched, a shiver coiling down his spine as Ricky settled between his legs.
And then—
Gentle fingers. Slick circles. A quiet murmur of, “You’re doing perfect.”
Ezra exhaled, slow and shaky, the stretch making his thighs tremble. It wasn’t pain—it was surrender. Trust, layered into sensation. Ricky worked him open with reverence, like every touch was a question Ezra had the power to answer.
He moaned low, head tipped back, one hand gripping the sheets, the other anchored on Ricky’s wrist where he braced himself on the mattress.
When Ricky finally stilled, gaze searching his face, Ezra could barely think.
“You ready?” Ricky asked, voice rough with restraint.
Ezra nodded, heart thundering. “Take me.”
Ricky moved over him, bracing with one hand beside his head. Their eyes locked—just for a second—and then Ricky pushed in, slow and deep.
Ezra gasped, the world narrowing to heat and stretch and the burn of being filled. His hands clutched at Ricky’s shoulders, hips canting up to meet him.
“Fuck...” he breathed. “You feel—Jesus—”
“So good,” Ricky groaned above him. “You feel perfect.”
They moved together, the rhythm slow at first. Ricky rolled his hips in deliberate, deep thrusts, the drag and slide of it lighting up every nerve ending Ezra didn’t know he’d been guarding. Ezra wrapped his legs around Ricky’s waist, urging him closer, deeper, faster.
The world blurred. The sweat on their skin. The way Ricky’s breath hit his throat. The way Ezra clung to him like he might come apart without the weight of Ricky holding him down.
Then Ricky’s rhythm began to stutter—hips growing erratic, breath breaking against Ezra’s jaw. Ezra felt the change, the way Ricky’s body trembled with restraint, the way he was getting lost in the edge.
And then Ricky’s hand slid between them, wrapped around Ezra’s cock, and everything inside Ezra fractured.
“Let go, baby,” Ricky whispered, voice breaking. “Come with me.”
Ezra cried out, head thrown back as he shattered, body clenching tight around Ricky as he came, pleasure tearing through him like fire through dry grass.
Ricky thrust once—twice—then gasped, coming inside him, pulsing deep as their bodies locked together, skin to skin, bone to bone.
They stayed that way, tangled and breathless, hearts still trying to catch up to what they’d just done. What they’d become to each other. Ezra knew without a doubt that things had changed between them forever, and he was all for it.