Page 19 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
My office chair presses my arousal back against me. Fuck, I’m so screwed.
How far would that have gone if I hadn’t already been disarmed and primed by Wyatt? Would nearly walking into Ryder have sent the zing through me if not for Ezra?
And Ezra…
I wish I could simply enjoy the man he’s become, but all of our baggage is heavy.
Part of me wants to just put it down and move on. And the other part…
I sigh and pull out my new safe haven. My diary.
I can’t even…
I can’t even…
What has my life turned into? My days are filled with chocolate and three testosterone and lust-filled men who mess with my head. And you know what? I can’t even.
I’ve got all of this anger and grief wrapped up in my attraction to Ezra, but the way he kisses me sends me back to that first night with him—both tender and greedy. That’s a good word for it.
Greedy.
The three of them make me feel greedy, make me feel like the slut I’ve never thought myself to be. It feels inevitable.
Ezra feels inevitable, just like he did when my assessment of him didn’t run him off. When our touch sank into a tangled knot of fingers. When the free drinks and mutual attraction tipped us closer together. When he’d cupped my face and kissed me as the sun set, I swore my barstool would burst into flames.
When he pressed me back into my hotel door, I swore we’d set it on fire.
When he slowly undressed and worshiped me on that thin mattress, I swore we’d burn the entire place down.
Every day and every night, it got better. I hated being away from him for more than a few minutes at a time. I didn’t even try to play it cool.
Because he didn’t either.
And he’s trying so hard to play it now. Watching him break was intense. It’s still fluttering through my chest.
He’d barely pressed us together, done not even a tenth of what we’d done before, and it had me sinking into a version of me that I’d missed.
An open one. A needy one. A dreamy one.
God, what would it be like to be with him as a mature adult? How much hotter would it be to sleep with Ezra now?
Would there be anything left of me?
11
Avery
Work is like navigating around landmines. No where I step is safe. I seem to be surrounded at all times by the three men who haunt my afternoons and evenings. My nights and dreams. My mornings. God, they’re with me all the time.
My tightrope keeps getting thinner and thinner, and locking myself up in my office doesn’t work. They all find me there.
Ezra hasn’t kissed me since we both had that slip of judgment. He seems scared to touch me again, and part of me desperately wants to break through his control again. Even if I need the space.
Wyatt’s deigned to touch me a couple of times, staring at my mouth more and more often. Although we’re struggling with the formula for our new dark chocolate, his new ritual to recenter himself seems to be brushing my mouth with his thumb.
It’s a slow glide that makes me want to bite him.
And then, there’s Ryder. His version of intensity is the complete opposite of the other two. He’s an over the top flirt.Naughty comments and innuendos. I can’t tell whether he possesses more control than Wyatt and Ezra or less.
