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Chapter 11
It's three days later when I find myself in front of the gym. No route back to my apartment from visiting with the florist one last time would have taken me to his gym, but it seems like I was turning and driving down streets without even truly realizing where I was going because my mind was entirely on how my pain has slowly, but surely, morphed into anger now. At the mixed signals he'd given me. My mind keeps weighing his words in the car against him telling me he'd miss me, how they’d traveled to come surprise me. On and on, my mind kept providing me with reasons to want to call him just to lash out at him, to curse him for the way I felt he played with my feelings.
When I'd been texting with Jeremiah earlier, he told me he was home alone, and without me asking, had said Ezekiel was closing the gym today because of the manager needing to leave early because his wife was in labor. The very moment I read it, I had the thought of going to the gym and cornering him so he had no choice but to listen to my every angry word. But I hadn't actually realized that I’d decided to do so until I’d pulled up in front of the gym.
I watch as the last of the people leave the gym, Ezekiel speaking with them as he holds the door open. Smiling at them like he has any right to smile at all. Then he closes it, clearly not locking it before he goes around and begins turning the lights off. It is pure anger that compels me to open my door, slam it closed, and walk across the street. A ring sounds through the gym when I open the door, and the voice that I haven't heard in days comes from the back room. A voice that, anger, pain and all, still manages to make a shiver race through me.
"We're closed for the night," he says, his voice coming closer as he speaks. "We open tomorrow at—"
His words cut off when he sees me, his eyes widening. And God damn, he looks like a walking wet dream. White T-shirt, black gym shorts, muscles and tattoos on display. I force my gaze away from his body to meet his stare again, narrowing my eyes when I do.
"Nothing to say now?" I ask, not caring about the venom clear in each word. "You had so much to say in the car."
His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking towards the back of it. I scoff at his continued silence.
"I guess I should have gotten the hint when you couldn't even be bothered enough to text and find out how much damage you'd caused, huh?"
"Text and say what?" he snaps.
My eyes widen at him having the nerve to be angry. My heels eat up the distance between us, rage-filled strides that don't stop until I'm mere inches away from him.
"How about, you're sorry? How about, are you okay after I ripped your fucking heart out? Maybe even, are you alive, Lexa? Any of those would have done, really. Somehow, your brother, you know, the one of you who didn't having me crying for days and unable to sleep for nights, was the one to text me, to call me, to tell me that you'll pull your head out of your ass—to tell me to give you another chance, to havepatience."
"Ah, so another conversation you and Jer had about me, without me being a part of it."
"Don't you dare even act like that's what any of this is about," I seethe. "This is because you're too hung up on what your ex did and said to realize I'm not her."
"You don't know anything about that," he hisses right back.
"I know all about it. I'm living it!" I shout, anger mixing with pain to make my voice come out hoarse now. "The distrust she created in you; I'm suffering for it. The way she suddenly decided she didn't want you and Jeremiah; I've somehow taken her place even though I'm the one who reached for you when we went out. I've never,never,done anything but tell you exactly how I feel. When I didn't want feelings, I made it clear. When I started to have feelings, I made that clear. Now, I fucking love you and Jeremiah, and I can't even make it clear to you because youclearly don't care."
His wide eyes go back and forth between mine. I told Jeremiah I loved him in such a gentle, sad way, but I've basically just hurled the words at Ezekiel. I didn't come in here to say that to him, and now, I only want to run. I turn but am not able to take a single step before Ezekiel's hand wraps around my forearm, pulling me into his body. His other hand comes to my other arm when I try to pull away.
"Let me go," I croak. "I didn't come in here to confess that, or to have your hands on me."
He only holds me tighter.
"Let. Me. Go. Ezekiel." I look up into his eyes, wanting him to see the fire in mine. That I'm so angry with him right now. I've been so hurt by him for days. I cannot handle his touch. I don't want it, but I yearn for it so badly. I need him to let me go, so I can retreat to my car and rebuke myself for coming in here at all.
"No," he states, and then his mouth slams down on mine.
I push against his chest as his hands let my arms go to slide down my sides. His lips press harder to mine, his hard cock poking into my stomach. Damn the lust that violently rushes through me at the memories of what it feels like when he's inside of me filling my mind. Damn my hands for no longer pushing against his chest but settling there now. I'm barely able to restrain them from drifting higher and wrapping around his neck.
His tongue licks between my lips and I command my mouth not to open, not to give in to this man who has broken my heart. But my mouth, my body, pay me no mind, mouth opening to him as my body leans into him more. He growls as his tongue slips into my mouth while his hands trail down, over my ass, to the bottom of my short skirt. In a blur of movement, he turns us so my back slams into the wall, and then he's picking me up, spreading my thighs so he can slide his body between them.
His tongue lashes against mine harshly as his hand slips between us. I feel him lowering his shorts moments before he rips my panties to the side, making me hiss at the pain of the fabric biting into my skin. He breaks his mouth away from mine, lips going to my neck, and I treacherously arch my neck, desperate for more. With my eyes open now, I realize, even with the lights off, anyone walking by would be able to see us with the lights from the back room still on. When he brings the tip of his cock to my opening though, I find I don't care.
He enters me and a deep sigh, full of how long I've been yearning to have him inside of me again, full of how much I feared he never would be again, leaves me. His groan against my neck makes me shudder, causing me to tighten around him.
"God, Lexa," he grunts.
Him saying my name hurts, much more than I want to acknowledge right now.
"Just fuck me," I plead.
He draws his hips back and drives into me. My eyes close again and I take one punishing thrust after another, his hands on my hips making sure I have no escape from him. Our bodies slam into each other's again and again, my hands clutching his shoulders and his lips sucking on my neck, surely leaving marks behind. His cock slides into me easily with my pussy being so wet that I can hear it in between my moans and his sounds. Each time he enters me, there's a bite of pain at my opening, at me stretching around him, but the rest is nothing but pleasure. At his cock lighting up every nerve on its way in and out. At him deep inside of me, hitting a spot that has my back arching and high-pitched pleas for more tumbling over my lips. At his groin rubbing against my clit when we're as close as possible.
"Ezekiel," I breathe. "More. Please."
