Page 17 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
I’d never had a serious relationship at that point. Nothing that didn’t fizzle out after a month or two. I didn’t grow attached to women that even bordered on love. Not until Avery.
“I was eighteen, and I knew better.” Given the other things I knew about her, it’s true, but I’d already jumped in feet first by the time I knew the deal-breaking mistake I’d made.
I drag a hand down my face. “I never cheated before, and I haven’t since.”
“So you say.” Her words are soft, even with a little bite. It sounds like she’s resigned herself to that truth. I’m a cheater.
“You’re not going to believe me no matter what I say…” I’m panicking. I’m desperate. “Come meet my mom.”
I don’t have another way to convince her—other than introducing her to all of my ex-girlfriends. Which I will do if it’s my only option.
She laughs, incredulous. “Why?”
“Because she’ll tell you. She’ll tell you how fucked up I was when I came back—after you.”
I had been fucked up. I felt like I’d lost a limb, some large part of me ripped away without my understanding why. It was traumatizing.
Avery softens. It’s the smallest fraction, but it makes hope inflate in my chest again. Her silence only makes me antsy, drives me forward.
Tipping closer, I brace my hand at the back of her head and tip her face up toward mine. Desire pumps hard through me when her lips part.
“I’ve never felt anything like what we had since. Tell me you don’t feel it.”
Her hands meet my chest, but she doesn’t push me away. My other hand snakes around her back, more tempting to have a taste of what I’ve been missing all this time. What I’ve been craving, longing for. The ghost of her in my arms is like a physical ache.
“For ten years, I’ve been searching for it. For you. You have no idea how many times I tried to find you.”
Her nails curl into my shirt, and I can’t stop or the world will derail—crash and burn, taking us with it.
Does her mouth still soften when kiss? Does she still taste sweet? Will every part of me burn from that simple contact? I lean in, even if this is nothing like the first kiss we shared—likeanyof the ones we shared before…
If I don’t do this now, it’ll kill me.
I swoop down and capture her mouth with mine. My office fades around us as I test and press and pry her open to my kiss.
And when she does finally kiss me back, I feel like I’ve won a piece of myself back.
10
Avery
The world disappears when Ezra kisses me. His fingers sink into my hair, supporting the back of my head and tipping me to access my mouth more fully. His thumb brushes along my jaw.
My fingers curl into the front of his shirt, needing to be closer. The broad expanse of his chest and waist press into mine, lifting me to the edge of his desk so we can eliminate every inch of space between us.
It’s so, so easy to sink into him, to forget everything else as his tongue tentatively sweeps against mine.
I don’t mean to moan, but I do. It’s low and soft and vibrates through me like a drug.
Ezra’s hand fists into the back of my blouse, traces of hunger hitting me in a feedback loop until nothing is left but him and this kiss.
Smoothing my hands out across his chest, I find and trace his collarbones, letting my touch meander upward until I stroke along his throat with a fingertip. I make lazy circles behind hisear until his grip tightens and his mouth falls to my throat in a smattering of kisses and bites.
His teeth pinch that sensitive spot he found that first night. A spot that primes me for detonation.
Another, lower, moan escapes me, and he grunts against my skin, nibbling and drawing my head back farther until I’m grasping at his hair. Encouraging or fending him off, I’m not sure. I can’t think straight.
My knees squeeze his hips, calves working against his thighs. I’m so utterly turned on that I’ve lost my control. God, how can he still do this to me?
