A strange sensation bloomed in my chest, like a balloon expanding in my lungs that made it difficult to inhale. I managed, but only just. He smiled and the feeling only intensified. A thought occurred to me so easily that it was as though it had lingered in my brain since I met him.
I liked Ezra.
It wasn’t about being gay or straight or any other sexual orientation, it was about howhemade me feel.
I inched closer to him, giving him time to back away, but he didn’t, so I kissed him. My mouth met his in a gentle touch, so soft yet with enough emotion that I thought I was going to combust from the inside. He tasted like cinnamon toast, his breakfast this morning, and I wanted more. I ached to kiss him more deeply.
Instead, I pulled back and watched his face and the way his lashes fluttered against his cheek. After a moment, his eyes opened and he offered me a smile.
“If that’s your way of convincing me to buy what I want, it worked.”
I grinned widely and shrugged.
“You’re a cheat,” he murmured. “But I like it. Do it more often.”
I chuckled silently as I took note of a flush on his face that extended down his neck as he turned back to the shirts. I let him browse, and I did, too, finding some pants that I thought would look great on his ass. The attendants left us alone when I waved my hand at them to let them know we didn’t need help, and we spent an hour and a half collecting clothes that we thought would look good on Ezra.
When I was happy with the collection, I shoved them into his arms and pointed at the dressing rooms.
He winced. “I hate trying on clothes.”
I gave him a long look and he heaved a sigh.
“You’re so mean,” he teased, and I grinned and shoved him gently in the direction I needed him to go. I led him to an attendant, who gave him permission to enter one of the small rooms, and I pushed him inside. He gave me a grin before closing the curtains behind himself.
Zing.
I winced at the sound of the metal rings scraping across the pipe. Walking to a rack of shirts nearby, I sighed as I began to peruse them with little interest, since we’d found Ezra enough clothes to last him a long time, but I hated standing in one spot for too long and he needed time to change. Then, after a few moments, I wandered back over to the changing rooms.
The curtain to Ezra’s room was open slightly and the attendant was distracted with talking to a customer. Without thinking about what I was doing, I peeked through the curtains. He was shirtless and down to his underwear, a new pair of pants halfway up his thighs, and when he tugged them, theyslipped over his sexy ass. It was like watching a free porn video. I couldn’t look away as his slim fingers worked the zipper and button of the pants. His flat stomach tensed, then released as he looked into the mirror hanging on the wall. He turned from one side to the other, and his hands smoothed over the globes of his ass in the tight material.
He glanced up at me in the mirror and grinned. “What do you think?”
I startled, not realizing I’d been caught until he spoke. Swallowing the shame of being a perv, I nodded because I didn’t think I could speak even if Iwantedto say something. My throat was dry and embarrassment rendered me wordless.
He turned toward me and ran a hand down his bare chest, humming. “I’m trying to decide which shirt would go best with these pants? Want to come in and help me?”
I opened my mouth to tell him no, then closed it again. Lucy always said I got stuck in my head, and I was happy there. I liked routine and schedules, and Ezra....He wasn’t part of any equation I’d planned, but I didn’t care. He was a nice surprise.
I stepped through the curtain and tugged it fully closed with a smile.
Ezra’s grinned turned mischievous and he tilted his head. He didn’t say anything as he stepped forward until our chests brushed, and he tickled his fingers down my arm. I didn’t move, but pleasure curled into a tight coil in my stomach. I was ready to give in to my animalistic needs at any second and the thought of it being with a man,Ezra, didn’t faze me one bit. I’d only had that one girlfriend—the one person I’d had sex with, and while I’d been sure I wasn’t gay because I’d never been attracted to a man, Ezra had thrown that theory out the window along with my attitude toward pleasure. The sex I had before didn’t affect me, it was something that happened and I got through, but this wasdifferent. The arousal was a new sensation, and I wasn’t quite sure how to navigate it.
My desire toward sex was nearly nonexistent until Ezra came along. I didn’t watch porn or stare at women and think “I’d fuck her.” While Lucy had thrown all the sexuality terms under the sun at me, I’d also never been interested in investigating it. I just didn’t care enough about relationships. Then, Ezra showed up in my backyard, bloody and bruised with a man who hit him while the other two watched, and everything changed.
“Hey.” He raised his fingers to my face, caressing my cheek and down my jaw. “Stop overthinking it.” He smiled and stepped away, grabbing one of the shirts draped on a hanger. “Here, help me put this on.”
The area in the dressing room was small and cramped, which put us close together, and I didn’t mind being in his space, inhaling the scent of my soap clinging to his skin in a way that I craved. It was strange to think I wanted him to smell like me, as though we were animals and I was marking my territory, yet the desire swelled inside me, driving me forward to crash my mouth against his.
A surprised sound slipped from him, but his arms entwined around me immediately, gripping the back of my neck and tugging me forward. He hit the wall behind him, and I pressed in closer, my body flush against his.
Our teeth clicked and our mouths ate at each other. Ineededthis. Needed him. I thought about him yesterday with my family, how easily he’d colluded with them and made them laugh, and all the feelings stuck deep behind my ribs only grew. I wanted to protect him, keep him in my pocket where I could always defend him. No one would ever hurt him again.
I nipped his lower lip, breaking skin, and he hissed.
“Fuck.” He groaned as I licked the blood that seeped from the cut and trailed down his chin. “You fucking maniac.” He laughed and kissed me again. “That was so hot.”
I gnashed my teeth at him, and he laughed harder, shoving me backward until it was me who hit the wall. Then, he was in front of me, falling to his knees with his fingers at my fly. I stared down at him, taking in the bruises that turned his skin pink, purple, green, and a few streaks of sickly yellow, and at the dark hair that hung around his shoulders as he yanked my pants and underwear to my knees. Was he attractive? Yes, he was,especiallywhen he curled his fingers around my dick and peeked up at me from under long, dark lashes.
