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“You did this for me?”
“Well, yeah. The director thing is for me, I really honestly need your help and was considering you from the moment I started thinking about opening a gallery. But this is for you, because I think you should expand your horizons and push yourself creatively. You’re incredibly talented, and this sounds like it could be really enjoyable for you. So, this is yours. And it’s not contingent upon our relationship or anything like that. I don’t want you to worry about that—if you ever decide you don’t want to be in a relationship with me, or Cal, or both of us. I have paperwork drawn up to protect all of your interests so you can feel secure working with me.”
He's rambling, and it’s incredibly endearing. He’s so smooth and sexy, but then also so unsure of himself at the same time.
“Ezra.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
I pour every bit of gratitude, hope, and love into our kiss. Because if I sat here and thought about it, it might be a crazy idea to help start a business with someone that you’re just starting a relationship with. But I know that he would never take advantage of me. He’s a good person. And I am really starting to believe that he loves me in the same way I’ve loved him for the past two years.
Ezra rests his forehead against mine. “If you don’t stop kissing me like that, we’ll never get to the actual date.”
My eyebrows raise. “You’re telling me there’s more than this?”
He chuckles. “This is a building, Beth, not a date. Hold on a second.” He disappears into what I think is a closet, coming out with his arms full of stuff. I try to help take some of it off his hands, but he waves me away.
“Why don’t you get some paints out?” He suggests, and I love that idea. I love it even more when I notice him setting up a little picnic on the floor beneath the expansive bay windows.
Ezra lays out some blankets and opens a basket, pulling out some cold meats, cheese, crackers, and fruit. We make small plates and then take them over to the tables, where we spend the next hour eating, drinking champagne, painting, and talking. When we’re finished with our paintings, we play show and tell and laugh when we see that we’ve both chosen a color scheme based on each other’s eyes. I feel closer to him than ever, still reeling that this is real, that he could truly possibly be interested in me.Me.
Suddenly, thunder cracks loudly and lightning flashes. The lights in the building and the surrounding ones go out, plunging us into darkness.
“Hmmm. I don’t think we’re going anywhere for a little while, but no worries. I have the perfect thing.” Ezra uses his phone to light his way back into the closet. He comes out and starts lighting candles, setting them around the room. “I got these for our picnic, thinking they’d be romantic, but then I wasn’t sure which kind were best, and then I realized I had three different kinds of candles and it was a bit overkill.” His faceis sheepish, but the way he looks at me in the flickering candlelight is anything but.
I meet him halfway, pressing my body against him as he takes my mouth in a searing kiss. This time, though, I’m not letting him pull away. I don’t care where we are or what else is happening—I want him. Ineedhim. I’m carrying two years of pent up love, admiration, and fantasies. Especially after everything he’s done here, with this gallery, I’m at critical mass and on the verge of a meltdown of epic proportions.
Stepping back, breasts heaving with the force of my breath, I untie the bow at my side, opening the wrap dress and letting it fall to the ground. He freezes, his eyes roaming over me. I’m wearing a black bustier slip dress that barely covers my ass, and higher heels that I would normally wear. I wore them for just this moment, wanting to feel sexy and confident on my date with the man I’ve been in love with for two years.
“Wow,” Ezra breathes, reaching out to cup my face. His hand caresses down my neck, over my shoulder, and over my breast. My nipples are peaked, the light brush of his hand enough to send little fissures of electricity dancing down my spine. Pulling my body against him, he walks us until my back is against a window, the ledge pushing against my thighs. He pushes me to sit, kneeling in front of me and rubbing his hands up my thighs. He pulls my hips so that my butt is hanging off the ledge, pulling my panties down my legs.
“You are so fucking gorgeous, Beth. I’ve wanted you for so long, wanted to taste you for so long.”
Barely perched on the windowsill, my arms gripping the edge to keep my balance, Ezra pushes my legs apart. He takes his time, running his fingers over my soft curls and through the wet folds of my pussy, teasing. Learning. He watches meclosely, searching my eyes and body for my reactions. I find myself clenching at his examination of my form. I am laid back and bare to him, legs open wide, back arched against the window behind me, breasts jutting into the air between us. Instead of feeling self-conscious, I feel wanton and bold, beautiful and treasured. I spread my legs further, biting my lip and silently begging him to touch me the way I know he wants to. He takes a sharp breath and ducks between my thighs.
He runs the flat of his tongue straight up my slit, bringing it back into his mouth with a lick of his lips. He doesn’t say a word, but the way his mouth seems to savor the taste of my arousal, the way his jaw clenches as he blows out a shaky breath, is enough to let me know how he feels. He dives back down again, holding my thighs open with his hands as he licks and sucks my lips, vulva, and clit. In moments, my hips are rocking against him and I’m mewling as my release builds. My body shudders like the lightning that tears through the sky outside, my orgasm like the thunder in a raging storm.
Ezra comes back up, not gasping for air but gasping for me, my name on his lips like some kind of prayer as we crash our mouths together. Tongues and teeth battle with urgency as we tear off all our remaining clothes.
Shirt thrown to the floor, pants pushed down his legs, Ezra’s long cock nestles itself at my core. He rocks against me, running the length of him through my wet folds. But he once again holds himself back from entering me.
I could cry.
I kiss him with every ounce of passion in my body.
“Ezra,” I plead. “Please, I need you.”
Ezra responds by hugging me against his body, and with his corded arms around my thighs, he lifts me off the ledge, turns us around, and guides me to lay on the pallet of blankets.
For a moment he stares down at me, and I marvel up at him, the flickering candlelight making this moment seem momentous and ethereal.
He lowers his body to cover mine, reverently running his hands and lips along every inch of skin he passes as he settles over me. His hard length rests against my entrance, and I tilt my hips up to meet his, wrapping my legs around him. My soaked pussy drips along his length as he pulls back to line himself up.
One hand cradling my face, the other smoothing his cock through my wet folds, he locks his eyes on mine and slowly pushes inside. The way he looks at me makes every inch feel like it’s more than our bodies connecting. The emotion wells up inside me as Ezra begins to roll his hips, our bodies moving together in perfect synchronization. Our breaths are deep and heavy, a sheen of sweat building over our skin, breathy moans and whispers on our lips between deep kisses. Tension builds like a taut rope inside me, building towards an unfathomable climax.
Ezra lifts one of my legs, holding my thigh back against my chest, the new angle reaching some impossible spot inside me that instantly makes my insides quake. I gasp out his name, and the taut wire inside of me clenches my inner muscles, a rhythmic tightening that intensifies the heat inside me until the wire snaps and everything shatters around me.
