7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
B utterflies danced the Macarena in Jorie’s stomach, a riot of emotions that ranged from “What the hell?” confusion to “Oh, my God!” giddiness. Ezra was being uncharacteristically attentive toward her. He even kept his hand on the small of her back as he followed—no, escorted her—into every shop.
He gave his opinion on which finely tooled leather belt and wallet would make the best Christmas gifts for her dad. And even though she could tell he wasn’t too thrilled about it, he tried the roasted candied almonds he had insisted on buying for her when she commented on how delicious they smelled.
“Oh, look, it’s snowing!” Jorie exclaimed, excitement bubbling in her voice as they wove through the crowd, passing people mingling around the dance floor in the center of the square. A rumbling laughter soon followed. Jorie’s mouth dropped open in surprise as her attention shifted from the soft, scattered flakes falling around them to Ezra. In all the weeks she had worked for him, she’d never actually heard him laugh. Sure, she’d seen him smirk a lot or smile on occasion, but laugh? Hell no.
When the band kicked into a lively country version of "Jingle Bells," Ezra whisked her—and the shopping bags—onto the dance floor. Jorie’s heart raced, her pulse pounding as the song ended and shifted into a much slower, unfamiliar tune.
Ezra pulled her closer, holding her confidently in his arms as he guided her around the floor. A secret thrill rushed through her. She loved to dance and couldn’t believe how well he did it. Jorie’s breath caught in her throat when she peered up through her lashes and saw his dark gaze locked on her face.
“What?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “I like looking at you. Holding you.”
“Ezra.” Jorie’s mind raced, torn between what this could mean for her job and her growing attraction to him. She’d heard the gossip about his last relationship, the one with the woman who had also worked for him, but she didn’t put much stock in rumors or people sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. Still, she didn’t want to become fodder for their small-minded chatter. She had worked hard to get here, and she’d been hired on her own merit.
“Shh. Just dancing, baby.” Jorie’s senses hummed, the music growing quieter as his dark, knowing eyes held her gaze through the new movements. She was completely immersed in the E-zone, moving fluidly with him as if they had been dancing together for years instead of mere minutes.
When they finally stopped, Jorie tore her eyes away from his. They were no longer on the dance floor. In fact, there was no one around them at all. He’d led her to the edge of the parking lot, and she hadn’t even realized it.
Only then did she notice the snowflakes had grown larger and were falling much more heavily. The snow created a diaphanous wall, muting the outside world. The sounds of music, laughter from the square, and vehicles driving by were all softened, distant.
Jorie’s resolve wavered. She was torn between doing the right thing and doing what felt right. As if sensing her hesitation, Ezra’s eyes darkened, and he pulled her more securely against him.
“Ezra, as tempting as being in your arms is right now, this probably isn’t a good idea. I work for you, remember?” Lord, what was she saying? This felt like the best idea she’d ever had. Why was she hesitating now? She longed to feel the press of his mouth against hers, to explore his taste and essence. What would his kisses feel like? Would they be rough and aggressive or soft and coaxing? Would his chiseled lips be as firm as they looked, or as supple as a ripened peach, driving her to the brink of sensuality and beyond as they slid over her most intimate places, just as she had imagined so many times?
“Dammit, Jorie. I’m not your boss right now, got it?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, he shattered every thought, every notion, every daydream, and every fantasy she had, blowing them to hell and gone.
There were no soft, exploratory sips—just a rush of passion as Ezra claimed her mouth, diving in as if searching for the last drop of water in a desert. Jorie had always thought the expression “time stood still” was overly dramatic, but now, in this moment, she was a true believer. It felt as though she had been transported to another world, where only Ezra existed, and she was utterly consumed by him.
She barely noticed her shopping bags hit the ground, the sensation of his lips on hers eclipsing everything else. She rose onto her tiptoes, bringing her leg up to press herself more intimately against him, feeling the undeniable heat of his arousal at her core. She would have crawled through his shearling coat just to feel more of his skin against hers. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck, surrendering completely to the kiss.
It wasn’t enough. Ezra’s hands tightened around her hips, fingers hard and possessive, sliding down to grip the curve of her ass. With a powerful movement, he lifted her, aligning their bodies even more intimately. Jorie wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles behind his back, holding him just as tightly.
Their kiss deepened, frantic, desperate, as they both drank each other in. They kissed with teeth and tongues, until they were both breathless and aching for more. It was Ezra who pulled away first, leaving her gasping, her lips tingling with the heat of their contact. She buried her face in his throat, drawing in deep breaths of his warm, masculine scent, desperate to calm the fire he’d ignited in her.
It wasn’t helping. A soft whine escaped her lips as she peppered his skin with heated kisses, unwilling to stop, knowing they both needed to finish this before they lost control.
“Jorie, stop.” Ezra’s voice was rough, tight with need. “I don’t want frostbite on my ass the first time I fuck you.”
Jorie’s mind raced, her inner brat tempted to ask if the second time would be better. She felt the bite of frustration now, not from the cold but from the way her body was aching, so close to release, and he was pulling back. Surely, if Ezra realized how close she was, he’d help her over the edge, wouldn’t he? All this unspent tension was making her restless.
“You started it,” she muttered, pouting in playful defiance. Her inner brat was alive and well, demanding more. Ezra was teasing her, and she wasn’t happy about it. If she could stomp her foot, she would—just to make her displeasure known.
“Yeah, well, looks like I ended it too,” Ezra replied, his voice dark and laced with warning. “Keep up the attitude and see what it gets you. Good little girls get rewarded. Naughty ones get punished.”
A surge of excitement shot through Jorie. Oh, they’d see about that. She knew exactly what her attitude would get her—playing with a grumpy Ezra was going to be way too much fun. Whatever this was, it had just turned into a challenge—a challenge she’d win, even if she lost.
But first, Ezra had a lesson to learn. When they got home, she’d pull out her favorite toy—the always-reliable clit sucker 5000—and take care of this fire all by herself. No fuss, no muss, and definitely no bossy man trying to control every damn thing. He’d find out soon enough, and then the real fun would begin. Jorie could hardly wait.
“Put. Me. Down.” She demanded, her tone sharp as she unlocked her ankles and lowered her boots to the ground. The fact that she couldn’t quite reach didn’t bother her in the least. She reveled in the strength of his grip, taking pleasure in how easily he held her. Ezra raised an eyebrow at her demand, his lip curling into a sneer.
“Just so you know, little girl, you aren’t in charge,” he rasped. God, what a sound. It spiked her desire, pushing her to the edge. She was tempted to knee him in the balls just to see how he’d take it, but that would be reckless. Good girls didn’t break their toys, did they? But naughty ones? Maybe. Jorie bit her lip, keeping the giggle that threatened to slip free under control.
The crunch of tires on snow and the sound of car doors opening shattered the tension between them. How long had they been standing in the cold, making out like a couple of teenagers? Blinded by the headlights glaring down on them, Jorie couldn’t see who it was, but she could hear the heavy boots stomping toward them. Her feet hit the ground with a jarring thud when Ezra dropped her.
“Go!” he growled, shoving her behind him. Jorie tripped over the curb, her arms windmilling as she fell backward. She landed hard on her back, her head smacking the ground in the process. It took her a moment to gather her wits.
Propping herself up on one elbow, she saw men attacking Ezra. Shaken, she scrambled to rip off her mittens and fish her phone out of her pocket. Once it was open, she shouted, “Call Aaron!” She groaned as she slowly pushed herself off the frozen ground and stood.
“Yo-Jo-Jo, what do ya know?” Aaron’s voice shouted through the phone in her ear.
Thank you, Jesus. “A-Aaron? We need help. Some guys attacked us. E-Ezra is fighting them right now.”
“Jorie? Where are you? We’re on our way. Tell me where you are. Everything will be okay, alright?”
“I-I think near where we parked.” She frantically scanned her surroundings, relief flooding her when she spotted the familiar brick building. She nodded, even though Aaron couldn’t see her. “H-hurry, Aaron. There’s three of them.”
“Hold on, we’re coming.”
Jorie winced as the men threw punches and grappled in the snow. She’d seen fights before—one-on-one in a boxing ring—but this was something entirely different. Something far more savage. Fury radiated from Ezra in waves, and despite being outnumbered three to one, he held his own. She cried in relief when Aaron, Tobias, and Manny came barreling around the corner and leaped into the fray. In no time, they had the attackers subdued on the cold, hard pavement.
The moment they were, Ezra charged toward her. Jorie knew she should probably be afraid. He looked like a thunderstorm about to turn into a tornado, bearing down on her. Instead, she flung herself into his arms, clinging to him like her life depended on it. And maybe it did. Jorie trembled in his arms as he held and comforted her.
Good God, she was in love with him.
“What the fuck, assholes. Who are you?” Aaron shouted.
Jorie could barely focus on the conversation, which had turned into a low hum of masculine background noise, as that epiphany settled in her heart. All she could think about was that she could have lost him, and now she needed to soothe and care for him. Jorie began searching for a clean tissue to wipe the blood from Ezra’s lip and assess the damage.
“Who the fuck names their kid Rooster?” Tobias demanded.
Rooster? Rooster. Pushing away from Ezra, Jorie tried to move around him, but he kept his arm looped around her waist as they headed for the defeated men together.
“You’re the one spreading rumors and badmouthing her around town,” Ezra growled.
“She needed to get her ass back home,” Rooster snapped.
“What are you doing here?” Jorie glared at the idiot she’d come to despise. Was he delusional?
“You’re supposed to be mine, Jorie. Not fucking some other guy. We had an understanding.” Rooster scowled at Ezra.
“An understanding? I moved twenty-five hundred miles to get away from you and my family’s bullshit. Good Lord, we never dated, never once hung out. I mean, you probably have more baby mommas than Eddie Murphy by now!”
“Who’s Eddie Murphy?” One of the dipshits sitting with him asked. Gah!
“Does Grizzly know you’re here? Never mind! I’ll call him myself.” Jorie yanked her phone out of her pocket, dialed, and put it on speaker. It rang three times before it was answered. Jorie didn’t wait for her father to speak.
“Daddy? Did you put Rooster up to this?”
The lengthy pause from the other end made Jorie wonder if the call had dropped, but then she heard her dad exhale cigarette smoke.
“Jorie, honey. Tell me you’re safe, because I have no idea what you’re talking about, and you sound upset.” Grizzly, staying true to his name, growled through the phone.
Jorie sighed in relief. For a moment, she feared her dad had gone behind her back and disregarded her wishes after she’d clearly told him she didn’t want anything to do with the man on the ground at her feet.
“Rooster showed up here, claiming me as his woman. You know how I feel about him! He attacked Ezra for heaven’s sake!”
“Who’s Ezra?” Her father’s voice sharpened. She heard the creak of his favorite chair beneath his bulk as he shifted.
“My boss.”
“Her man,” Ezra chimed in at the same time.
“I’ll take care of it.” Grizzly growled, and then the line went dead.