The Reaper's Touch

15. It Was Never Hatred For You ..

The music pulsed so hard, I could feel the vibrations riveting through my body. Ezra made his way through the crowd with ease, and I did my best to keep up with his long, elegant strides.

"What are we doing here?"

When he didn't turn around or answer me, I figured the music was just too loud for him to hear me over. The further he'd led us, the harder it was to keep up with him through the thickening crowd. I tried to quicken my pace, but only found myself knocking left and right into people.

What the hell? How? When no one could even tell I was there before.. and now I was brushing past people, actually making contact with them as they gyrated to the music.

The reflection of the neon lights were mesmerizing to watch as they bounced off Ezra's snowy skin. I wanted to lick the accesible flesh from his ear to the dip of his neck. As many questions as I had about this place, being able to touch people, I could only think of our time together.

But before I could reach out for him, hands came around my waist in a firm grip. I was yanked back just as Ezra had disappeared amongst a cluster of people.

"What the hell?" I snapped out loud this time.

"Hey, missy. What's an innocent little thing like you, doing in a place like this here!" A stout, middle-aged man yelled into my ear.

I smacked his hands away. "Don't touch me. I'm here with someone." His touch left a nauseating need to pull closer to him, that only made me want to hightail it the other way even more. It was a strange feeling, the need to want to be so close to a disgusting stranger.

"Oh yeah? How much I gotta pay you to be here with me instead? Or better yet," He leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows in a not-so-subtle way, "How much to leave with me?"

I could feel his presence before I heard him. "Your life. If you do not keep your filthy hands off her." Ezra stood over me from behind, giving the man a daring look.

"Get lost, the both of you. I don't want to catch a charge with her anyways, I could do better if that's the case." The man snorted, before walking away in clear defeat.

When I watched him trot off, no doubt drunk, I turned around to face Ezra. "Thank you."

Instead of your normal reply, which was you're welcome by the way, he held his hand out out for me to take. Most likely so that I wouldn't get lost, or snatched up by the crowd again. I smirked at him, but took it anyways.

I tugged on it when I noticed he was leading me to the back of the club, the darkest area and close by the back exit. I tugged again, trying to get his attention.

"What are we doing here?" I tried louder this time.

Ezra turned around, casually taking a seat along a bench that attached to the wall. I stood there in front of him, eyes finally close in level to one another without him having to lean so far down. He said one simple word. One thing to cause those tingles to spread throughout my body and pour from my pores, across my skin.

"Dance."

It was like he was my puppeteer and I was his marionette on strings. My body nearly leapt at his command, but I was hesitant in my confusion. What we were doing here was beyond me. It couldn't just be for that. "Dance?"

He nodded his head up and down, slow and measured. His demanding blue eyes, so electric and challenging, especially when the lights found it's way to them, watched me vehemently. My adrenaline kicked in and I could feel my chest squeeze at the thrill of entertaining him, especially in such a scene like this.