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I wiped my face angrily and said, “yes, I do. Go away.”
“Maya, please—”
“I SAID GO AWAY!”
For a moment, there was only silence on the other side of the door, then I heard his heavy footsteps walking back down the hall.
I spent the rest of the night crying until my head ached, until the tears were gone and only the frustration and pain remained.
I’d leftin the middle of the night while everyone was sleeping.
I hate thinking about that. I was so hurt that night that he would just blindly destroy a gift I got for him with no regard that he would damage the house or hurt me. I’ve still never told him the truth about how I was able to purchase such an expensive gift. He thinks I saved up the money I made at my job the whole time we were together. If he found out I’d borrowed money from another criminal…
That’s something I’m taking with me to my grave.
I’m not allowed out of my room for the rest of the night. Ezra had Benji bring me food and drinks like I’m a fucking prisoner. Now I’m lying in bed, staring out the window through the blinds and watching as the sun slowly dips below the horizon and the moon rises. I get up only to take a quick shower and change clothes, then I curl up in bed and try to get some rest.
Just as I’m about to drift off to sleep, the door opens and closes quietly.
I don’t turn around. The room is pitch black except for the thin lines of pale gray moonlight that shine through the partially cracked blinds covering the window. I know it’s Ezra; I can feel his familiar presence as he walks quietly to the bed.
The mattress dips as he lays behind me. He doesn’t touch me, doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t press himself against me, or force himself on me.
He’s so quiet for so long that I think he’s fallen asleep, but then I feel his rough hand on my face. He rubs my forehead, my cheek, my ear. Then he runs his hand down the length of my hair and arm before rubbing small circles into my back. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
They’re soothing strokes to calm, not arouse. I remember he would touch me this way after sex, after a big fight, or after I’d just seen a side of him that scared the absolute shit out of me. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now—how much I missedhim.
I hate him for locking me up, but right now I crave to be near him.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” he murmurs, his deep voice sending chills over my bones.
God, I missed that voice.
“I was supposed to go back to San Diego the last time you found me,” I say quietly. I don’t even know why I say it, but once the words are out, I can’t take them back.
Ezra stiffens behind me.
“I was saving up the money to just hop in my car with a few grand and never look back.”
He still doesn’t say anything; he knows what going home means to me.
“But now I’m here. And I’ll never be able to go back.”
When he finally speaks, his voice is rough. “You think I won’t let you go?”
I’m silent for a moment. “I think you’ll keep me on a tight leash so I can’t leave you again,” I answer honestly.
Once again, he’s quiet. I try to settle in, but I can’t seem to calm my mind down enough to relax. Not when Ezra is lying right behind me, his hands still stroking me. Something that sounds like a moan escapes my throat, and I feel my face flame.
He chuckles. “You always liked it when I pet you.” His voice is low and heated, words loaded with promise. I squeeze my legs together, hating that he still has that effect on me. I don’t want to want him as much as I do, but I can’t help it. He’s so beautiful, and he knows it. And every piece of my heart still belongs to him, no matter how hard I try to deny it.
I let him continue to stroke me. Pretty soon, his hand makes its way to the waistband of the boxers I’m wearing and slips inside. I spread my legs a little, a silent invitation to let him do what he wants.
His fingers find my clit easily, as if it hasn’t been a year since he last touched it. His skin is rough, making me shiver against him at the contact. He rubs circles on my wet sex, and a panted breath escapes me.
“Wait,” I breathe, reaching down and grabbing his wrist to stop him. It’s too much. Too much pleasure. Too much ofhim.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers in my ear, still circling my clit with that damn middle finger. My back arches reflexively, and Ezra slides his other hand underneath me until it’s splayed across my stomach, holding me against him.
