Chapter 2: Touch

Shannon's eyes fluttered open, and she gradually sat up on the oversized bed. Her mind wrestled with the pounding ache in her head and the persistent gnawing in her stomach. Memories flooded back that she didn’t have time to survey her surroundings—the sacrifice of James, his battered figure on the floor, his last words reverberating in her mind. She ran, without a second glance backward.

Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she struggled to contain the overwhelming anguish welling up inside her. Fighting back tears, she called out James's name repeatedly, each cry a desperate plea for his return, as if her sheer willpower could bring him back to her side. Tears streamed down her cheeks, evidence of her grief and exhaustion, rendering her motionless in the face of such immense loss. Bent over, she sobbed relentlessly until there were no more tears left to shed.

It took some time for her to regain composure, and it was then that she noticed something attached to her right hand—an intravenous line connected to a bag of IV fluid on the nightstand. As her vision cleared, she finally registered the presence of the man standing beside her.

Ezra Barlowe.

She was stunned, unsure how to react in this unexpected moment. It had been ages since she'd been close to a guy who was near her age, let alone one who seemed like he stepped out of a mythological tale. He was very good-looking as if he was sculpted by Zeus himself—tall, proud, with a body that could rival any Greek god. His eyes, silver and penetrating, seemed to see right through her, and his dark auburn hair fell in waves that begged to be touched. Shannon had to muster all her willpower to resist the urge to reach out and run her fingers through it.

“You look like a god,” Shannon commented, in awe at his presence.

This made Ezra lift a corner of his lips while staring at her amusedly.

"You've been out cold for nearly two days. The instant you wake up, you're bawling your eyes out, and the first thing that comes to your mind is that I look like some kind of god. Even though I only have the slightest clue of who you are, I'll take that as a compliment because I find everything amusing at the moment. " He sat beside her, unconsciously reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, checking on her hairline injury and facial bruises. The doctor had attended to them while she slept.

"So, how are you feeling?" Ezra whispered, his eyes fixed on her startled expression.

He'd gotten used to doing these things while she slept, so it felt almost second nature to continue them now that she was awake. But for Shannon, it was all uncharted territory. She couldn't help but flinch a bit, her heart racing. It wasn't fear, though—it was something entirely new. For the first time since James, she felt a flicker of comfort from another person. It was a weird feeling, and she couldn't shake the heat rushing to her cheeks like she was suddenly on fire.

"I-I'm okay. I think?" She lightly touched her head, making sure she wasn't feeling dizzy or anything. Then she glanced down at her clothes.

Shannon let out an almost silent gasp as she realized she was wearing something different. Instead of the nightgown she had worn running out of the mansion, she found herself in a loose, blue silk pajama top. It was oversized, draping down to her mid-thigh, but it was so comfortable that she hadn't even noticed the change.

Ezra noticed her reaction and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry I had to change your clothes," he mumbled sheepishly. "I didn't trust anyone else to take care of you except for my family doctor. And hired nurses can be real blabbermouths, so I took the liberty of handling everything—changing and washing you for the past couple of days." He didn't mention the internal struggle he faced, fighting off any inappropriate desires he might have had because of Shannon's mesmerizing body despite the scars and bruises. He’s also a bit surprised that she wasn't frail or undernourished as he had anticipated, given her dire circumstances.

If he was a god as she had described him, then Shannon embodied Aphrodite herself—a woman with a goddess-like physique exuding pure sensual beauty that could easily captivate any normal hormonal man like him.

Upon hearing this, Shannon wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or utterly embarrassed. She ended up burying her face in the duvet.

"I'm sorry you had to go through so much trouble these past couple of days. I really appreciate it, even though I'm feeling pretty embarrassed," she mumbled, her voice slightly muffled by the covers.

Ezra hadn't expected Shannon to be so blunt with her thoughts, especially considering she gave off the impression of being quiet and reserved while she slept. He was just about to inquire about her current situation when a loud rumbling sound erupted from her stomach. Shannon, who had already removed the duvet from her face, quickly covered her stomach, as if trying to hide her hunger. Seeing her react this way was kind of cute, and Ezra found it amusing. It had been a while since he'd been entertained like this. He was so accustomed to glamour and fame that he usually encountered people who put their best foot forward just to impress him. The women he met often tried to win him over with their looks, wealth, or power, none of which he really cared for or needed.

Another round of rumbling broke the silence.

Shannon looked at Ezra sheepishly as he reached for a bowl of porridge on the bedside table. He poured some hot water into it to warm it up and stirred it gently before turning back to her.

"It's gotten cold. I left it near you just in case you woke up."

Shannon stared at the food, her stomach rumbling even louder. Ezra raised an eyebrow at her and casually asked, "Do you need me to feed you?"

"Feed me?" Shannon squeaked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. Hadn't he already done enough by washing and dressing her?

"N-no need! I've got this, thanks!" Shannon stammered, hastily reaching out to grab the cup of porridge from Ezra, her fingers brushing against his in the process.

A tingling sensation shot through her fingertips at the contact. In those few seconds of touch, she noticed how warm, soft, and undeniably masculine his hands felt against her skin.

Ezra felt a surge of electricity shoot through him as her fingers brushed against his, more intense than when he had been attending to her while she slept. There was an inexplicable pull towards her, a desire to touch her far beyond what was appropriate. Then, he felt a stirring below his waist, a sudden rush of arousal that caught him completely off guard. With a swift turn, he concealed the fact that he was becoming aroused from just a brief touch of skin.

Unbelievable! He wasn't even in puberty and yet he's getting his d*ck worked up at such bad timing. 

"I'll leave you to it. We'll catch up when you're ready," he muttered in a gruff voice, attempting to mask the sudden warmth flooding his cheeks. With a hasty exit, he practically bolted out of the room, as if fleeing for dear life.

Left alone, Shannon couldn't help but wonder why he had abruptly dashed off.

***

Under the pounding spray of the shower, Ezra let out a frustrated growl, as if attempting to drown out the flames reigniting within him. It's been two agonizing days since he's been hand-f*cking himself to release the sexual tension he's been experiencing ever since Shannon came to his house. He fought against the rising tide of arousal every time their skin brushed, but despite his efforts, he found himself succumbing to the heat building down below his groin. With a frustrated sigh, he resigned himself to yet another cold shower, hoping to quench the relentless fire within. Unfortunately, the cold shower wasn’t helping at all, his hands inched towards this engorged manhood, and stood there under the water letting his mind wander with the thoughts of Shannon’s sensual body.

Ezra remembers vividly Shannon’s smooth silky skin under his hand while he washed her gently. He was trying to imagine how her nipples would taste under his tongue and how her delicate folds would feel under his fingertips. What struck him about her womanhood was its pristine bareness—no trace of hair, looking sleek and soft. The thought of touching it filled him with an unquenchable desire to possess her body even more. He groaned louder as he imagined how it would have felt to penetrate her p*ssy with his finger. He started pumping his c*ck harder as if trying to chase the heat out of his belly with thoughts of f*cking Shannon in frenzy running through his head and when he finally reached orgasm he shot his manly fluids directly at the bathroom wall.

He has never jacked off by himself for the longest time. Either he didn't feel like indulging in such acts, or he simply found himself with some lucky girl grinding herself on top of him. But that was all in the past, and for a couple of years, he had chosen celibacy. Everything had begun to feel shallow and empty to him. Every woman he’s met so far had hidden agendas and they just wanted to f*ck him for his fame and nothing else. If those women even knew he was a billionaire and the sole heir to the Ashfield entertainment industry, they would probably be after his bank account as well. 

However, this time it was different.

He's the one longing to be touched, to be f*cked and he wanted to hear Shannon’s voice screaming out his name as he sucks on her skin while f*cking her in so many different kinds of ways. If only he was a dipshit he would have f*cked her already while sleeping, but as a man of principles, he respected Shannon as much as he could. He didn't touch her the way a lustful man would. He would never in his life take advantage of a woman. The best he could do for Shannon was shower her body, wipe her down and that's it. Never allowing himself to touch her private parts in the process.

However, he's just a man and a human being at that. He can't stop his thoughts from imagining things nor stop his body from feeling hot and aroused. His sexual frustration had been sky-high since her arrival and it wasn't doing him any good. It's making him sleepless and giving him wet dreams that he ends up staying by Shannon's side instead of sleeping in his room, waiting and willing for her to wake up. 

He stepped out of the shower and wiped the fog out of the mirror as he stared at his face.

“You're totally screwed,” he tells himself loudly.