Chapter 7 #3
“Here it is. The dick.” He smiles, pointing at my face, then takes a bite of his croissant, and holding a hand in front of his mouth, he says, “The three things you can’t hide in this world are a cough, poverty, and love—well, in your case, bottomless obsession.”
“Bullshit.” I’m a master at hiding my real feelings. I just choose not to, because I don’t give a fuck. “You just found out about it, when I’ve been watching Sully for the past eight months.”
When I look back at Sully’s table, the girls are gone—back to the counter.
“Did Ramiel tell every-fucking-body?”
“Oliver and Rague clearly don’t know. But I will tell them as soon as they are back.
Also, Ramiel didn’t tell me. I saw you outside Tomorrow’s Brew.
” The café Sully’s brother owns. “That white mask of yours is freakish, almost like a leather face. Ugh.” He makes a disgusted face.
“You’ve been stalking the whole sausage fest, so at that moment I didn’t think anything of it, but then there you were again when we left him at the campus.
And since you got here? You keep looking at him every time he makes the slightest movement.
Your eyes are chasing every twitch of his body, your entire focus is on him. ”
Nine is out there; I have to be alert. Plus, Sully is just so fucking delicious. My cock hasn’t had a chance to soften yet.
“But I have a question, when you go through his stuff, you know stalker-style, do you rub your testicles over it or do you prefer tongue action?” He blinks at me with a curious look. “No need to answer. Penis…dick…face. Another quick question, are you going to use your arrows to kill me?”
“I have a feeling you’d resurrect each time I do.”
“You should trust your gut.” He winks at me, but then his expression is somber. “Look, it really, really pains me to say it, but nonetheless, I have to. So here it goes: thank you for being there for Sully. If I had taken him to the dorm, the attack wouldn’t have happened.”
“It would have, another time,” I declare, because it’s true. Jacob would have tried it again. Ruminating on the past is such a waste of time.
Sully gulps down his drink, and there he goes with the lip biting again. From now on, I’m going to do that, if it really needs to happen.
Suddenly, Sully’s head gives a jerk, and he squeezes one of his eyes.
Ren leans toward him over the table, hands on his shoulders.
That’s fucking it. I push the chair back and reach him in a few steps.
I sit on the bench right next to him and when he turns my way, I take off his glasses and cup his face in my hands.
“Something in your eye, Little Chick?”
“Ezra.” He sounds surprised but happy. “Yeah. In my left.”
The deep cinnamon iris with bits of gold looks watery as he tries to show it to me. The eyelashes are sparkling with tears. I move my index and thumb together and pull the upper eyelid gently down over the lower one, then slowly let it slide back up to sweep the upper eye. And I get it.
“An eyelash,” I tell him, lifting it on the tip of my finger. He has very long ones.
He blinks, wipes his red eye, and then squints at my hand. Ren passes him his glasses, and he slides them on until they rest on the bridge of his upturned nose—such a little nose for a guy.
When he finally focuses on the black eyelash on my finger, I blow and it disappears. He digs his teeth in his lower lip for a moment, then grins—that crooked incisor…fuck me.
“Thank you.” He keeps his voice soft and light. Add that to the shy, almost subtle way he looks at me, and the possessive feeling gnawing at the very core of me awakens, and from my toes coils around the rest of my body.
“Where did you come from?” Ren asks, snickering. The fucker.
“The door,” I deadpan without sparing him a glance.
I find the piece of paper on the table where that girl wrote her number and squash it into my hand. Sully bites his chapped lip to stifle a smile. Bad move. Now I want to suck on it.
When I take out the peach lip balm from my hoodie, his eyes turn sweet.
He’s probably expecting me to apply it to his mouth—which I don’t.
This time, I slowly put a layer on my upper and lower lip, enjoying the way he can’t keep his eyes off me, before sliding it back into my pocket.
The crease between his brows is back. It makes me smirk just before I grab his chin and capture his mouth.
The lip balm rubs on his lips as I keep tasting him, feeling the soft press, the sweet tang against mine.
He’s the best drug I’ve ever used and I don’t think I’ll ever shake it.
“Okay, I’m leaving.” Ren’s voice makes Sully pull back.
“You don’t have to,” he tells him.
“He does,” I contradict.
“Ezra,” Sully cutely scolds me.
“After what we shared? That’s cold, man.” He stands up. Even though his eyes are behind those mirrored glasses, I know he’s looking at me all smug. “I’ll call you, Sully.”
“What did you share?” my little chick asks me as soon as he leaves the café.
He’s obviously trying to shutter his anxious expression, but his eyes keep flickering to the left. It reminds me of the first time I saw him, the way he darted glances at me like a prey checking on a possible predator. I liked that, but I prefer when I get the attention of those pools all on me.
I reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. It slips out again just after I do.
“We shared nothing. He just saw me watching you,” I let him know.
His lips part in surprise. “So he knew about you…spying on me?”
“Everybody seems to know now.”
“My brother doesn’t. He called me five times already today and never even hinted about you, only about what happened…” His frown deepens.
“Not yet, but he will.” Oliver called me as well but I didn’t pick up. He knows about Sully’s attack and that I was the one saving him.
“What is it?” he asks a few seconds later. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Don’t you know? I just like watching you.” His touch, his smile, and his tentative kisses, the way he yields under me.
His cheeks turn pink. He grabs my hand under the table and squeezes. “I like your name.”
“I like making you scream it,” I whisper in his ear, savoring the little shiver of his body and how his cheeks darken to an apple red.
“I heard Uri saying you chose it. Why?”
“My name is Azrael, like the angel of death. Ezra is a plainer version.”
“An angel, like your brother and the others?”
I shrug. “You shouldn’t read too much into it.”
He nods. “Angels are prolific, relentless, powerful, and lauded by their followers. I get why you’d like to be one.”
I’m having trouble really concentrating on what he is saying. I’m too busy thinking about resuming that kiss. Or fucking him against the glass window behind him. Fuck, my dick could cut glass.
As he keeps talking, Sully moves his hand, tipping one of the cups over the table with his forearm and spilling what looks like soda all over his books and himself.
He hisses and jumps up, pulling the soaked sweater away from his torso. “Shit!” he curses, fumbling with the paper napkins on the table. “Did you get wet?” he asks me, looking upset.
Sully doesn’t have any kind of emotional shield, not even the simplest ones.
“No.” I stop his hands and slide the wet sweater off him—his glasses are in the way, so I pull them off. Then I take off my hoodie and lift it over his head, but he halts my movements.
“I’m fine.” He shakes his head. His shirt is so thin I can see his nipples through it—like everybody else.
“I am not,” I counter, pushing the collar over his head, then an arm through the sleeve, and the other. The hoodie looks huge on him, but the smell of me on him placates my irritation.
“I don’t want you to get cold,” he whispers, looking down at his hands on his lap.
I push my knuckle under his chin to tilt it up. “You need to keep close and share your warmth with me then.” I lift an eyebrow at him, making him snort.
My body reacts as a rush of satisfaction sweeps over me. Christ, I want to devour him and keep him inside me—deep where nobody can touch him. He pulls the collar of my hoodie up, covering my claiming marks on his neck.
“I don’t like when you cover my marks, Little Chick,” I say with a rumble in my voice, pulling down the fabric around his neck once again.
“Marks?” he repeats. “You-you mean the signs you made with your mouth?”
“And hands. And tongue,” I remind him. His pupils are dilating the more I talk. “Want to get out of here?”
He nods but continues to stare at my face, unmoving. I close his books and stand, grabbing his bag to slide them in. Then I make him wear his jacket and take his hand to pull him toward the door.
Those two girls are still at the counter; they must have missed our kiss because they are still making googly eyes at Sully.
I stop right next to them, pull Sully in my arms, and yank the hoodie on one side, displaying his neck.
They won’t be able to miss this. I suck and lick his skin, staring directly into their eyes as I do, giving them a fuck off look.
Their shocked faces are quite satisfying.
I hear a whistle and pull back to survey my work; the deep-purple bruise I left on the side of his neck looks good.
He’s looking at me speechless. An intoxicating mix of fragility and strength. Ignoring the few gazes aimed at us, I drag him out of the café. Hooking his bag over my shoulder, we start to walk toward his dorm—he needs to get his laptop and a few other things before I take him to my place.
“Yesterday you forgot to put on a condom,” he suddenly says.
“I didn’t forget. I’d never forget something like that.” I sniff with condescension. “I wanted to come inside you, not a piece of latex.” And it felt so fucking good seeing my cum drenching his hole. I’ll never use one.
“I know psychopaths do what they want, uncaring about the consequences. Governed by instincts.”