Chapter Thirteen Ezra
Chapter Thirteen
Ezra
She tastes like pears and peaches, and all it does is make me like my favorite cider even more than I already do.
She’s just as soft as she was before, maybe even a little softer, as I slide my hands through her hair, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her closer because I have to. I want to feel her against me. No, I need to feel her against me.
Summer must feel the same way, because her fists grip my shirt, holding me to her as our lips move together like they’ve done this dance a hundred times before when they haven’t. It’s only been once, and my hip ruined it. It already takes so much from me. I refuse to let it spoil this too.
I swipe my tongue against her lips, and she moans, opening for me, and I don’t dare waste the opportunity. I lick inside her mouth, tasting every inch of her as our tongues slide together in a frenzy.
Fuck, this is good. Almost too good.
No, that’s not possible.
I slip my hands through her hair, which I’ve been wanting to touch since the moment I saw her sitting in the sheriff’s station. I wanted to know if it’s as soft as it looks, and it is. The slightly wavy brown locks feel like fucking silk beneath my fingertips.
It’s incredible. She’s incredible.
Suddenly she pulls away, and I want to curse at the loss of her.
“Ezra . . .” she says through strangled breaths. Her chest is moving up and down so fast that if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she just skated all two hundred feet of a rink and back again. “What are we doing?”
“We’re kissing.” I press my lips to hers again.
She laughs, pulling away once more. She rests her forehead against my chin, still gulping in air. “I . . . I know that. I mean . . . we can’t, right?”
“No,” I agree. “We can’t. You’re my employee. This is definitely against the rules.”
“It is. We should stop.”
“We should.”
But I don’t take my hands off her. If anything, I hold her tighter. I drag her closer.
“Ezra . . .” I think it’s supposed to sound like a refusal, but it comes out as a plea, and I’m not about to deny her anything.
I couldn’t if I tried.
I just kiss her again, and she sinks into me.
I slide my hands under her ass and lift her into my arms. My hip pinches, but I ignore it as I spin us around, setting her on the counter and stepping between her thighs.
She lets out a soft gasp, and I swallow the sound with my mouth.
I kiss her softly, then hard and soft once more, just because I can. I can’t get enough. It’s like I’m addicted to her, and I’ve only just begun.
Her hands slide into my hair, and I groan at the touch. I can’t remember the last time someone had their hands on me like this. Maybe two years ago? More? I don’t know, but fuck, it feels fantastic.
I pull my lips from hers and kiss across her jaw right up to her ear, then back again just because I can.
I do it on the other side, wanting to taste every inch of her, then trail my way down her neck.
She moans when I press my lips against her throat, her nails scratching against my scalp in the most delicious fashion.
“Fuck, that feels good,” she says through labored breaths.
“Tastes good too.” I run my tongue against her. “You taste like vanilla cupcakes, Sunny.”
She laughs. “It’s my bodywash.”
“I love it. Never stop using it.”
“Stop telling me what to do.”
“Always a brat.” I lick at her again, and she moans. I smile against her. “But I bet I know the way to make you finally shut up.”
“Oh? And how are you going to do that?”
I trace a path back to her lips, kissing her until we’re both breathless and desperate. When I finally pull away, I say, “By fucking you.”
She lets out a loud gasp as I drag her off the counter. She wraps her legs around me on instinct as I carry her through the kitchen and living room and down the hall to my room.
My hip screams at me the entire trek, but I push the ache away. Having her in my arms is worth all the pain.
Her mouth hasn’t left me the entire trip. She’s been peppering kisses all over my face, and I fucking love it.
I stumble into the bedroom, thankful I left the bedside lamp on to guide me as I take us to my king-size bed.
I’ve never had anyone else in here before.
The thought hits me out of nowhere, and I realize that I’m glad it’s Summer. There’s something about her that’s gotten under my skin from the moment I met her. She drives me wild, but it’s in a good way. Like right now, as she sinks her teeth into my neck with the gentlest of nibbles.
I stop at the foot of the bed and lower her to the floor. She slides down my body, pressing up against all the right spots.
She catches my gaze, her chocolate eyes cloudy with lust, but I still see the silent question in them.
Are you okay?
I know she’s asking about my hip. I wait for that near-constant frustration I have when someone asks about it, but it never comes. I’m too fucking happy to have her in my arms to give a shit.
I answer her by capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, my fingers finding their way beneath the short, cropped sunshine-colored shirt that’s captured my attention the second I saw her standing in the Stick Taps parking lot.
She shivers under my touch, and I take it as permission to continue, slipping my hand higher until I’m grazing the underside of her tit. She groans at the slight contact, and I know it’s not enough for her. She wants more, and I do too.
I break away from her and tug her shirt over her head. She reaches for her bra, but I stop her.
“Let me.”
She nods, dropping her hands, and I step back to admire her. I rake my eyes over her, taking in the vision before me. Her tits, full and perfectly pert, are barely contained by her simple white bra. It’s nothing special at all, but on her it looks like a million bucks.
Her brown locks are tousled from me running my fingers through them, her chest flushed from all the kissing we’ve been doing, and her eyes are so dark they look nearly black in this lighting.
She looks fucking gorgeous, and I want to commit this moment to memory because she was right. This is wrong, and we shouldn’t be doing this for so many reasons. She works for me, for fuck’s sake. I’m doing her dad a favor.
He can’t know about this, just like this can never, ever happen again.
But until then . . .
I reach for her, and my fingers find the clasp of her bra. I undo it, letting the material fall away between us.
There’s no way she doesn’t hear the stutter in my breath as I get my first look at her.
She grins, but it’s not a cocky kind of grin. It’s sassy and sweet, and all it does is make me want her more.
I curl my hand around her waist, tugging her closer, and she comes to me easily. Her nipples brush against me, and I’m suddenly very aware of how much clothing is between us.
As if she’s just realized it, too, Summer’s hands push my shirt up, and I let her drag it over my head, tossing it aside for us to clean up later.
Her eyes roam over me, and I love the appreciation I see in her gaze.
I might not be a hockey player anymore, but I take care of my body as if I were, hitting the gym several times a week.
I have to. Not just for my own mental health, but for my hip too.
It’s the only way to keep my mobility where it’s at.
“I knew you had a six-pack. And not just of cider.”
She winks, and I laugh at the awful joke.
“Shut up and come here,” I say, and we reach for each other at the same time, both sighing as our skin touches and our mouths crash together.
I can’t tell which one of us is more desperate, but I don’t care. All I care about is mapping every inch of her body until the wee hours of the morning.
If I have only one night with her, then I’m going to make it count.
I kiss from her lips down her chin and over her throat, which works against the soft touch. I capture a nipple for only a moment before continuing south as I drop to my knees before her.
When my fingers find the button of her jeans that look ridiculously good on her, she says, “Ezra, you don’t have to. I know you—”
“Want to.” I meet her worried gaze. “I want to, Summer. Let me taste you. Please.”
Her eyes spark, and she nods, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “All right. But only because you asked so nicely.”
One corner of my mouth lifts as I flick open her jeans. The zipper is loud as I drag it down the track, and I watch Summer every step of the way.
She doesn’t try to stop me. Not when I hook my fingers into the waistband and tug the denim down. Nor when I take her panties along too. Not when she steps out of the material and stands before me completely bare.
And when I grab her leg, setting it over my shoulder, nuzzling my nose against the soft curls that sit between her thighs, she doesn’t say a peep.
It’s only when I finally drag my tongue against her that she says anything, and it’s just one word—my name.
“Ezra.”
It’s like fucking gospel to my ears, and I live up to it by worshipping her.
Her hands slip through my hair as I slide my tongue through her center, paying extra attention to her clit. She groans loudly, tossing her head back with a heavy eye roll.
My hip may be throbbing, but it’s nothing in comparison to my cock doing the same thing. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so sweet in my life.
I could stay here all night, my tongue in her cunt, listening as she comes undone. But I have other ideas, too, like burying my cock inside her until she’s nothing but a mess beneath me.
I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue against it quickly, and when her legs start to shake, I know it has nothing to do with the position we’re in. She’s close.
And, honestly, so am I. Embarrassingly so, and if I don’t get inside her soon, I’m going to make a mess inside my joggers in a way I haven’t since I was seventeen.
“Oh god. Right there,” she mutters through heavy breaths. “Don’t stop.”