Page 12 of Single Mom’s Secret Diary (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)

Wyatt

I pace around my lab and office, waiting for Avery to return after lunch for another taste test. It’s difficult to wait, to not simply go and retrieve her, to find ways to keep her down here with me for the rest of the day.

Fuck, she’s monopolizing my thoughts, and there doesn’t seem to be a damn thing I can do about it. Her beautiful face takes over the numbers, ratios, calculations that I’m used to crowding my brain.

Ever since she led me upstairs for a brand-new way to taste chocolate, I’ve been floundering.

But the sight of her eyes fluttering closed as her lips pursed around my finger. The feel of her tongue against the pad, and the moan low in her throat… All of it sent a charge through me that hasn’t found its way out.

I almost kissed her in that kitchenette. And that is all I can think about—how much I want to kiss her.

It’s only been a few days, but I’m not sure I can go on much longer like this. I’m out of sorts. It’s affecting my ability to work.

Hence the tray of chocolates in my office cooler waiting for her. I made them over the last few days, creating new flavors that I think she’ll enjoy based on the comments she’s made on the other chocolates we’ve tested from competitors.

The mango one will be her favorite, but the avocado one is the outlier. She’ll love or hate it, and I need to know which it is.

My sanity is slipping.

Hands clenching.

I’m barely holding back from seeking her out when she glides into the lab. I watch from my office as she shakes out her hair and ties it up to keep it out of the way. I’ve discovered those long strands in my office chair, where she sits as we decide what our next steps will be.

Finding myself in the doorway, leaning and staring like some kind of invalid, I’m reminded once again that I’ve never met a woman before who’s provoked this kind of reaction out of me.

I want to map every inch of her body, learn every little dip and divot and sensitive spot that makes her whimper and moan. I want to explore her wet center with my fingers, my tongue, my cock.

The desire burns me up inside until I’m left a husk.

Her smile is sunlight in this gray and chrome room.

I jerk away from the wall, stepping close until she has to look up at me. Her hands fall to her hips, and I wonder why she does that. Is it to not feel so small?

“I made something for you,” I say instead of a greeting. I flinch at myself. Why can’t I be smoother, like Ryder?

Her smile grows, though, stopping the downward spiral of my thoughts.

My hand finds her arm, leading her to the stool she usually occupies. Grabbing her by the waist, I help her up onto it, receiving a wild look from her.

I can’t linger, and my hasty retreat seems to pull a soft laugh from her.

Returning with the tray, I’m crowding her again. I’m far too close as she leans in to inspect them. Her shoulder brushes my stomach, and I’m electrocuted. Avery peers up at me with those big hazel eyes—blues, greens, oranges, and browns of the wild. No wonder I feel like an animal around her.

Her hand meets mine, and she tugs me into my stool beside hers. “Stop towering over me. Am I going in blind or are you going to tell me what all of this is?”

I peer down at where her hand lingers in mine. Fiddling with her fingers has me mesmerized. They’re so soft, her palm plump with clear lines. Is the rest of her just as soft? Softer?

Fuck, I want to find out.

“They’re just something I thought you would enjoy. Based on what you’ve tasted so far.”

Avery stops my fiddling, makes me look at her. She’s sympathetic and sweet. “Are you making me a signature chocolate?”

I shrug, in new territory. I would make her twenty to keep her looking at me like that.

Her smile blooms, and colorful petals explode in my chest. Among all the drab gray and black, she’s technicolor. It should blind me, but I just want to hunker down in her glow.

Without thinking about it, I brush a light caress against her cheek. Retreating, I relinquish her hand and point to the spread of six new flavor combos for her to taste.

“Where should I start?” Her lip pinches between her teeth.

I tap the one front and center. It’s the avocado one. The one I’m most nervous about. I’d rather get it out of the way and go up from there.

“No preamble?” Avery takes the little truffle between two fingers and slides her gaze toward mine.

Is she teasing me? I want more of it.

I shake my head, watching her mouth so closely, she must find me a freak. Her first bite, the way her eyes close as she tastes it, I’m on the edge of my seat, aching to completely surround her, tuck her against my chest.

Her second bite nearly finishes the small square, but how she never finishes one no longer rides my nerves, doesn’t knock down my confidence.

Instead, I’m a jumble of things I want from her. Need from her. Crave from her.

“What’s the verdict?”

“The texture of the avocado is so complimentary to the chocolate and spice. The hint of sweetness, and it carries the salty tones really nicely. It’s not at all what I was expecting.

” Avery sucks some chocolate remnants from her thumb.

“I think you could add so many flavors to it that would make it an entirely new experience each time.”

“Like what?” I ask, frowning at my own brusque tone.

“Cream cheese, or maybe even feta for something more savory. Raspberry preserves. Peanut butter. Avocado is one of those flavors that takes on others well. I like avocado, so this on its own is a treat.”

I can’t soak in the compliment. I point at the next—the medjool date and pistachio combo.

A low noise in the back of her throat when she bites into it paired with the fluttering of her lashes puffs my chest up with pride. I want to beat my fists against my chest in victory.

It freezes me in place until those wild eyes open, and I’m sinking into a dungeon of my own making. Her hand finds my shoulder, squeezing. She’s a beacon. I can’t help but flock to her.

My fingers are rubbing the ends of her hair between them. I don’t recall reaching out to do that.

“Verdict?” I force my gaze up to meet hers.

Avery slides the rest of the piece into her mouth, and it floors me. My blood is pumping so hard that I can hardly control myself.

She’s on her feet when I blink, and she slides easily between my knees. Her hands are on my shoulders. Mine is fisted in the end of her ponytail, shaking from the want to tug her head back to spread my mouth across her skin.

Her fingers ruffle through the hair that sweeps across my forehead, pushing it out of my face and letting her touch travel across my scalp.

The usually cold room can’t stave off the sweat gathering along the back of my neck, down my spine. My clothes are too tight. They’re creating too many barriers between us.

Avery hovers just out of reach, looking down at me like she can see me. And I don’t put her off. She doesn’t steer me, doesn’t deal with me. She enjoys me. Or at least, she seems to.

Her grip loosens, she blinks, and alarm pierces through the fog of sexual tension that’s built between us.

Pallor replaces the pink from her cheeks. Her hand flutters down to her stomach.

“Avery?”

She drops, and I’m almost not fast enough to catch her. I save her head from hitting the cement and cradle her as her eyes roll back. Clanging between my ears has me reaching up on instinct to hit the emergency button under the table.

If it’s something she ingested, we should get it out of her, but I can’t do that with her unconscious. I need to wake her up. Keep her that way.

I pat her face as gently as I can manage. It still feels too hard, but she doesn’t stir.

“Avery? Avery, come on. Wake back up for me. Come on. Avery .” I turn her to her side, wishing I’d been trained for this. But panic takes complete hold. “Help. Help !”

The buzzing of the alarm falls into the background.

This can’t be happening. I should get her in my arms and carry her out to help.

The lab door bursts open, and Ezra is kneeling beside us. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I made something just for her.” And I kept them in my office. Few had access to my things. Only people I trust, so that means I must have messed something up.

Avery jerks in my grip, and the shaking takes over her completely. She’s seizing.

I’m holding her head to keep it from slamming, and Ezra’s on the phone.

It takes too long for the paramedics to arrive, but once they do, everything seems to happen at once.

I stalk out of the building after her, letting Ezra take over. They’ve covered Avery’s mouth with an oxygen mask. Her eyes flutter a few times, but she doesn’t wake.

A crowd of people have gathered, and I can’t snap out of my tunnel vision. If only my undivided attention could revive her.

Hollow emptiness fills the place my heart once existed as they load her into the back of the ambulance. What have I done?