Page 16 of Love You Like That

Erin:You in love and ignoring us huh? That’s cool. You better invite us to the wedding.

I loved them. I did. But I couldn’t keep up. Between lectures, twelve-hour shifts, studying for my nursing exam, and pretending not to feel guilty about how damn happy I was lately, I didn’t have the capacity for much else. Especially not with my parents calling every other day.

First, it was my mother, reminding me of the Hollis Medical applications that were opening up. Then my dad, bringing up potential positions at his golf buddy’s private clinic. Always with that same voice. That same weight.“We just want what’s best for you, Yavanni.”

And I didn’t know how to say, “What’s best for me might not be what fits your blueprint.” So, I said nothing and then Itexted Ezra to let his words wrap around me like the hug I really needed.

F i n a l l y,S u n d a yc a m e. I was sitting on my living room floor, in nothing but Ezra’s hoodie and a pair of boyshorts with my legs crossed while I organized my planner for the week. I’d already rescheduled lunch with my parentsagain. I just didn’t have the energy to do the polished daughter routine today. Not when all I wanted was slow music, food, and the man who was currently in my kitchen barefoot, making tea.

Ezra had a tendency to just… be here. And I let him. A few of his things were at my place now which included a few pairs of boxers, socks, a grey hoodie on the back of my chair, a spiral notebook on the nightstand, a sketchpad under the couch.

“Ya phone keeps buzzin’,” he called out, stirring something in the mug.

“It’s either my mom or Erin and both want explanations I don’t feel like giving.”

He walked into the room shirtless with a mug in one hand and his gold Cuban link chain swinging slightly as he handed me the tea. “Then don’t give ‘em.”

I smiled, took the cup, and leaned my head on his thigh as he sat beside me on the couch. “I just feel like I’m disappointing everyone by not moving attheirpace.”

Ezra brushed my locs off my shoulder, fingers trailing down my back. “Whose pace do you wanna move at?”

“Mine. Yours. Ours.”

He nodded. “Then fuck everybody else.”

I laughed and tilted my head to look up at him. “You always so blunt with your support?”

He grinned, leaned down, and kissed my temple. “Gotta keep it P always.”

I set my tea down and slid into his lap, straddling him. His hands went to my thighs, his good eye heavy now, that look I’d come to crave lighting up his face.

“You know what I wanna do today?” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing but you.”

He kissed me then, deep and slow, pulling me into that place that only existed between us where nothing else mattered but mouths and breath and the way his hands always knew exactly where to go.

Ezra’s fingers slid beneath the hem of the hoodie I was wearing, dragging it up slowly. I raised my arms, letting him peel it off of me like he was unwrapping something sacred. I was bare in his lap now with my skin meeting his chest and my nipples tightening from the central air and the heat in his eyes.

“You always been this fuckin’ beautiful?” he murmured, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast. I whimpered as his mouth closed around my nipple, tongue flicking, sucking gently while his other hand slid down to cup between my legs. “You wet already,” he murmured against my skin. “It’s all mine?”

“Only yours,” I whispered, breath catching.

He laid me down on the rug like I was fragile, but there was nothing fragile about the way he climbed over me. Nothing fragile about the way he kissed down my stomach, tongue ready to devour me.

When he reached the inside of my thigh, he spread me with his hands, looked at me for a long moment, and said, “Let me take away some of that tension.” And I let him.

His mouth was slow at first, soft and teasing like he was easing me open with patience. But the second my hips arched, he got greedy. He sucked my clit, circled it with his tongue, groaned into me like my pleasure was feeding him. “Ezraaaa… oh my God…”

I reached for his hair, fingers tangling in his locs, pulling when his tongue flattened against me in long, hot strokes.

“That’s it, Yaya,” he whispered between licks. “Let me hear you.” His voice was deep, low, and steady, guiding me. Worshipping me. When he slid two fingers inside, curling them just right, I almost cried. “Stay right there,” he said, his mouth returning to my clit, tongue relentless now. “Don’t run. Take it.”

I came with a cry, thighs shaking, vision blurred, heart thudding like a war drum. My body didn’t feel like mine anymore. It was his and I’d given it over willingly and he was handling it with care and fire at the same damn time. Before I could even come down, he was kissing up my body, hovering over me, the thick weight of his length pressing between my legs.

“You want more?”

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