Page 72

I swore we had somehow moved closer. Our breaths were merging. E.Z.’s were deep, natural, and controlled. Mine were breathy and choppy, coming more and more rapidly.

I was hot. Really hot. I wanted to ask E.Z. for more than flirty touches. I wanted to be touched everywhere. I was close to begging him to show me the promises behind his often wicked grins.

“E.Z. works for you. But Fresh weirdly fits you too,” I whispered, forcing myself to speak, even though E.Z.’s eyes were holding me hostage and making it hard to think. I licked my lips to bring moisture back to my mouth. “You're like a burst of fresh air.”

E.Z.’s fingertips pushed into my scalp in circles, working his way down the back of my neck. Sparks ignited, racing down my spine. My eyes blinked closed and my back arched. I didn’t know what I needed, but I needed something. My head was spinning.

His dark eyes took in my flushed cheeks and shallow breaths. My heavy-lidded eyes. When my tongue peeked out to wet my dry, parted lips, he rumbled a deep, tortured sound low in his chest, turning fully on his side to face me. He pulled me flush against his chest and pushed his thigh further between mine.

Our heavy breaths sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room. E.Z.’s breaths had lost their controlled rhythm and now matched mine. His chest heaved against my own as he held me tight. Held himself tight. The muscles in his arms corded with effort and restraint.

Watching E.Z. lose some of that control— seeing how much this also affected him— sent an intense jolt of lust to my core, and heat began pooling between my legs.

“So, Fresh,” I whispered, watching his mouth. I begged him with my eyes to close the distance. Begged him to let me taste and lick. “Are you just going to test out nicknames for me?” I whispered between broken breaths. “See what sticks?”

“Most definitely.” He forced out a choked laugh. “I haven’t found the right one yet. But it’ll come to me.”

“I’m sure it will,” I panted, a slight moan escaping with the words.

Between the gravel coating E.Z.’s voice, the dark thunderstorm that overtook his eyes, and his possessive hold on the back of my tunic, my core was quivering. I slid closer, settling against him, and found the proof of his arousal thick and heavy, pushing against my stomach.

His jaw clenched, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His fingertips bit into my flesh. Holding me possessively or holding me still, I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was— It. Felt. So. Good.

A low growl escaped deep in his chest when I rolled my hips, grinding against his thigh, seeking relief. Thin scraps of fabric were the only thing separating my wet, aching center from his skin.

“Tell me what you want, Kaia,” E.Z. gritted out.

Trembling, I arched into him, molding my body to his, showing him what I wanted. It was impossible to talk. I just needed to feel every inch of him. I pressed my breasts further into his chest to relieve the ache in my nipples and ground myself harder against his thigh.

My leggings were a mess. E.Z. could probably feel that heat, that wetness, that proof of my arousal on his skin. I should have been embarrassed— but that thought had the opposite effect. It drove me even more wild, leaving me almost crying with the need for contact, for friction.

E.Z. buried his face in his neck and pulled me tighter but still didn’t move against me; he didn’t give me what I needed. When I rocked my hips, gliding along his length again, he released a low, tortured groan that vibrated all the way to my core.

“Talk to me, Kaia,” E.Z. growled, low and tortured sounding. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want,” I gasped, not knowing how to say what I wanted. I arched, needing to be closer. “E.Z., I’m so hot. My skin. It feels so sensitive.” I let out a whimper, squirming in his arms, so full of longing. “I want to feel alive. I want you to make me feel alive.”

Chapter25

Kaia

This attraction, this longing, was threatening to consume me. This need to be touched and felt. This desire to touch E.Z. and have him burn as hot as I was. I needed him.

E.Z.’s mouth touched the curve of my neck where it met my shoulder. His lips kissed away the sting of his stubble as he nuzzled the column of my neck. I released the long, breathy moan that had been trying to escape, never knowing my neck was so sensitive, and tilted my head to give E.Z. more access. His mouth trailed to my ear, peppering kisses the whole way.

“Kaia, dear,” E.Z. ground out. “What exactly are you asking of me?”

Leaning back, his shuttered eyes, now more gray than blue-green, held mine captive. This beautiful man’s heated gaze was focused on me. It made me feel like a woman. Alive and beautiful.

I inched up further, our mouths a breath from touching. “I want you to kiss me,” I whispered, grazing my lips against his.

His mouth parted at that slight touch, letting me softly graze my lips against his as I spoke. Letting my tongue flick out to taste those pink lips. But he did not move his lips against mine.

“I want you to touch me,” I exhaled into his mouth, my lips sticking to his every breathy word. “I need…” I whimpered.

E.Z. swallowed that whimper, finally closing his lips over mine.

I melted into the kiss, into the feel of E.Z.'s lips against moving mine. He tasted of the spring morning air — so exhilaratingly fresh and crisp. Kissing him was like being swept along on a steady breeze, the kind that makes you lift your face in relief on a warm summer's day or savor a refreshing inhale on a crisp winter's eve. I was burning up and shivering simultaneously and entirely consumed by that feeling.