I do? I focus my gaze on his eyes, and in this position, the light from the lamppost is right on his mask. Hazel irises, more amber than green.
E-Ezra? For a moment, it’s hard to breathe. Ezra is the masked man. The man in the white mask is Ezra. How did I not recognize his voice? How did I not recognize him? I can’t believe it. I just can’t. Why would he do this? My brain tries to make sense of it, but it’s malfunctioning at the moment. It’s like a memory-slow-motion reel in my head, but some of the pieces fit incredibly well.
“Ez-Ezra,” my voice falters as I lower the book until it slides out of my hand. Thud.
He lifts to stand on his knees. “Come here.”
Two simple words, and all strength leaves my body, as it surrenders to him. I feel the safety of his steady arms around me, lifting me up as he stands. Keeping me safe. His familiar, heady scent fills my lungs.
It’s really him. Ezra. Ezra.
Jacob moans from his position on the ground, and in a ninja-like move, Ezra shifts me behind him. My face finds the back of his hoodie, and my arms wrap around his neck, as he holds me against him with his hand under my ass. He takes a few steps. I hear a dull thud followed by Jacob whimpering. Then athunkand silence.
I know this silence, it’s the same nothingness I heard after they beat me into a pulp and left me to die. It felt like I was underwater, sinking down in the dark abyss with no way out. The quivering starts in my chest and then spreads like hellfire all over my body. My arms drop at my sides; I can’t feel them anymore. Pins and needles cover my hands and lips while dizziness and nausea join the show.
They say time heals all wounds, but the truth is, only to some extent. Some things stay with you forever. You are fine one moment, and then in the next, it all comes rushing back. Like now. It’s that feeling again caught in my throat. I can’t ignore it, the silence is growing worse within, the panic breaking like a wave, and I’m weeping in its wake. Meg’s technique is not working. I’m unable to breathe; my lungs are on fire. It keeps stabbing me in my chest, making me bleed.
I yelp as I’m moved once again. Ezra crouches slightly, and somehow I’m lifted in his arms bridal style. I feel his warmth seeping through my clothes and only now realize how cold I am. He takes one of my clammy hands and flattens it on his chest.
“Feel my breaths.” He takes deep ones, and I focus only on the movement beneath my fingers. Little by little, I’m able to feel oxygen filling my lungs again, but I know the anxiety attack is far from over.
My heart is still racing. The more I feel him, the easier I breathe, though. I give an involuntary shiver. A few goose bumps have broken out on my arms, and I nuzzle closer to the heat source. It’s helping to ground me. I try to pick out things, anything I can hold on to, desperate to stay in this moment and not slip back into the silence. The smell of chocolate on his breath, the hardness of his chest, his chin resting on my head.
The feeling is finally returning to my hands and lips, and the nausea is gone. It suddenly hits me that I’m sitting on Ezra’s lap. My face is pushed into his neck. My legs bent, thighs stuck to his sides, both my hands tucked between us under his shirt and on his bare chest.
The realization that he’s been holding me through the remnants of my anxiety attack is horrifying. Vulnerability slams into me,and I fight the urge to groan. My cheeks are burning with shame. I can feel Ezra’s intense gaze on me, but I don’t open my eyes. If I keep them closed a little longer, perhaps I can forget that I have completely humiliated myself.
Trusting that the worst of it is over, I pull myself back. His fingers gently wipe the tears from my face as I keep my gaze down. His touch is making my skin tingle in the most incredible way, and I can’t stop savoring the moment—unfortunately it’s too short.
His hand slides under my chin, tilting my head back until I see him. Face-to-face. The mask is gone, and here he is. The sexiest and most confusing man I’ve ever met. His presence is mesmerizing, and yet again I question my sanity—and his. Because we’ve barely spoken since I met him, and now I’ve discovered he’s been ensuring my well-being from afar all this time. Did Oliver put him up to it? The others? My head is about to implode.
Gods, he’s so beautiful. Concern isn’t etched on his somber features, but I can see a hint of emotion in his penetrating eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I feel the need to apologize.
“Your body’s response isn’t your fault,” he simply states.
Isn’t it? It’smybrain that is trickingmybody into thinking something is wrong. It’s all…me.
My eyes move around the interior of the car. I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice he carried me into the backseat.
My hands leave the warmth of his chest, and I push away from him a little more, thinking it’s safe to move. But the side of my head is throbbing again, and I wince as I stop my movement. Mypalm lands on the front of his hoodie, fisting the fabric as I try to push away past memories yet again.
The feel of his fingers wrapping around the back of my head stills my thoughts. They run through my hair until they find a good grip, and in the next moment, my head is tipped back and my breath taken away.
Is this what a kiss is supposed to feel like? Like a mouth possession? A capture of will? He delves inside using his demanding tongue, inescapable lips, and unforgiving teeth like he’s trying to dig his way into me. I feel weak and melt under his attack, gasping for breath. He’s going to eat me from head to toe, and all I want to do is spread myself in front of him and offer him everything I am.
If only with a kiss he can already command me completely, what would happen if he does more? He sucks on my tongue, ripping a moan out of my throat. I’m getting hard.
“Fuck!” he mutters, giving my lower lip one bite before pulling back.
It takes me an extra second to open my eyes—I’m saving the sweet taste of his lips inside my brain. I blink, and before his face comes to focus, I whisper, “Why did you kiss me?”
Oh boy! He looks hungry, slowly licking his lips while staring at me like a wolf would a pork chop.
“It’s what you needed.”
The kiss did work. It distracted me and even eased the ache on the side of my head.
