“I don’t,” I start to say and then shrug because I have no idea how to even finish that sentence.
“Understand?” Titus offers the word and I nod, wordlessly.
Above the massive bed is a huge print of one of my photographs. It’s a still of one of the side roads, one you have to live here to know. One you find when you’re looking for a path or trying to figure out which way to go; a place you find when you’re lost. It’s almost been swallowed by nature, but it’s still there and will stay there with enough traffic.
On the opposite wall there are two more, smaller, prints hanging.
“You have my photos hanging in your bedroom,” the words are shaky like I’m unsure if they’re the right ones.
But they are.
“Yes.”
I take a few more steps into the room, my head swinging back and forth between the two walls before choking out, “Explain, please. Why do you have three of my photos in your room? Like, break it down as if I’m a child because my brain is doing that record scratch thing right now and I’m struggling.”
Titus chuckles softly while stepping around me and facing me. His large hands come down on my shoulders to hold me in place and when I look up at him, he’s all I can see.
But I’m still very much aware of the three in this man’s bedroom that I took.
Three.
And one is huge.
“I love your work, Ezra,” his words are soft and with every one of them my heart starts to slow down a little. “I saw a photo you gave Opal and I did a little digging.”
There’s no nervousness about him now, as if my reaction was enough to make it disappear. It’s for the best because it’s my turn to freak out a little.
“You did a little digging?”
He just grins down at me, his hands sliding down my arms and making me shudder at his touch. “You should consider me your first super fan,” he teases me.
“Super fan?” The question comes out a little dazed.
After making a humming sound he leans down, his mouth hovering over mine. “Did I mention that I love your work? It’s amazing, Teach. I have a feeling you don’t even know how much.”
The conviction in his words undoes me.
My arms wrap around his neck as I press my lips to his. A feeling, a need, wells up inside of me. I’ve felt more desire than is probably healthy since I crash landed in this man’s life. But this feeling is different.
Deeper.
More.
He loves my work.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips, “Titus. I need you.”
He growls, the sound comes from deep in his chest and makes all the hair on my arms stand on end. His hands are quick as he undresses me.
There’s nothing careful about the way he’s touching me. He moves me; I move. He tugs; I give way.
And then I’m naked and in his arms.
“Too many clothes,” I pout.
I reach for him, but my hands are steady. The need is too much. This feeling threatens to drown me.
But then he’s laying me out on his bed, and everything focuses. To him. All to him.