Page 23 of Single Mom’s Secret Diary (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)

Avery

B eing with three men, who are miraculously not jealous of each other, is mind-blowing, especially at work. They love to share me in the boardroom after business hours—sometimes before the end of the day—and we’ve sullied every surface of that room, especially the conference table.

My favorite by far is when Ryder propped me against the floor-to-ceiling windows and took me from behind, my breasts pressed and scraping against the cold glass as he powered into me. Fuck, I’m wet just thinking of it.

It always starts in the same vein, focused on my pleasure, building me up into a needy frenzy that takes all three of them to soothe. God, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, and it happens every single day. Well, besides the weekends.

Sometimes, I get one or two of them during lunch, but the mornings seem a bit more special. They like to have me to themselves before everyone else comes in.

This morning, I slip into Ezra’s office, silently closing the door behind me and flipping the lock. I lean against it and smile at him.

His jacket is strewn over the back of his chair, his hair is ruffled from his fingers, and his tie is loose around his collar. Ezra advances on me from where he’s bent over his calendar, sweeping me up with one arm and kissing me like it’s been years since he’s seen me last.

It breaks through a new barrier—an old one that I erected shortly after our Spring Break fling. He’s getting close to knocking them all down, and the thought terrifies me.

I cling to him as the world opens up under my feet.

His mouth falls to my throat, that spot beneath my ear that does me in every time. I’m shaking in his grip as he kisses and nips every inch of exposed flesh. When he pulls back to look me in the eyes, we’re both breathing heavily.

I trace his brow softly with my fingertips, down across his cheekbone and jaw, and brush my thumb across his bottom lip.

Ezra tips his forehead against mine, eyes closed, and he presses me to him more tightly. It cranks a new tension around my heart.

When he retreats, he drags a hand down my arm and tangles our fingers together, pulling me in slow steps over to his couch, where he sits and tugs me forward to straddle his lap. I settle over him easily, and he just looks up at me for a long minute.

“Do I have something between my teeth? Eye boogs? What?”

He finally grins up at me. “No. I’m just… still amazed that this is real. That you’re here and not one of my vivid dreams.”

Cupping my cheek, he’s being so tender and sweet. It’s at odds with what we’ve been these last few weeks, but it’s so reminiscent of the way we were together back then.

“I’ve had them a lot over the years.”

I have, too, but it’s harder to admit that than I thought. Instead, I lean in and plant a soft kiss on his mouth. “I’m here. I’m real. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ezra’s grip on me tightens, and he kisses me again with much more fervor.

Spreading my thighs wider, I sink down against his stiff length. It presses hard against the inside of my thigh, and we start a slow roll together. It’s luxurious and not at all rushed, the same way we’d been with each other ten years ago, but somehow, it’s better.

Our kiss drops off as we grind together, simply enjoying the way we feel like this.

The old needs creep up on me. The ones that made it hard to be away from him long enough to grab clothes and change, to check in with my cousin or dad, to let him take care of things he needed to. The ones that made it hard to think of the end and going back to real life.

Now, we don’t have the looming end, and still, I wish I had him crawling into bed with me every night, hugging me against his broad chest and wrapping me up in his limbs.

I wrap my hands in his loose tie, and he blinks up at me in wonder.

“I want to take you on a date.” His low voice curls around me with an embrace of its own.

“You do?” I’m stalling when I should just be saying yes, but a date means coming to my place, meeting my family, learning my best kept secrets.

“I do.”

I hate how those two simple words tap into the deep, hidden cavern of my chest, so I roll my hips hard enough to make us both moan a little. “What would we do on this date?”

Reaching between us, I unbuckle his belt and spread his slacks open. My hand curls around his hard-on to pump him over his boxers. His small groan is sweet and heavy with unsaid things between us.

Ezra’s hands crawl up my legs, lifting my skirt around my hips so that he can squeeze the plumpest part of my body.

“I’d—” He sucks in a sharp breath as I press on that bundle of nerves under the fat head of his cock.

“I’d take you somewhere you haven’t been before, like the ruins near the city, and watch as you imagine what it was like in its prime.

Encourage you to tell me stories about what it must have been like, who must have lived and worked there, how it fell into ruin. ”

His words come out at the same pace as my hand as if he’s trying to keep himself from rushing.

But that’s what I’d done when we visited the ruins in Cancún. Mostly romantic with a tinge of horror. I am my father’s daughter, after all. Ezra took me very seriously through it all, no matter how ridiculous I got.

“Then, I’d take you to the best Vietnamese restaurant I know and have you taste all of my favorite dishes to see which ones you like the best.” He sucks in a slow breath. “Because I love to watch you eat.”

I chuckle as I finally free him of his boxers and wrap my hand around his bare flesh. Fuck, I love the way he moans when I touch him. He’s always been responsive, letting me know how much he enjoys my attention.

When I lift up on my knees, he wraps his thumb in the crotch of my panties and tugs them aside. It doesn’t take much work to drop myself onto his cock. We fit together perfectly, and I resume my rocking motion.

God, it’s so much better with him inside me.

With a steady rhythm and his hands cupping my bum, I hold onto the back of the couch and sink into the comfortable space that naturally builds around us.

“So, what do you think?” Ezra pumps his hips up to accentuate his question. “Let me take you on a date?”

“Mmm. How can I turn that down?”

He grins. “Oh, I’m sure you could find a way.”

I prolong us for another minute, working him with my core and teasing him with my mouth.

“Avery?”

“Yes. Yes, you can take me on a date.” Although when we’ll find the time for one, I’m not sure. “Now, concentrate.”

That breaks a laugh out of him, but he nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

Fuck. Now, he’s moving under me like he’s on a mission, finding the right angle to pump us together and submerge me in pleasure. He feels so good. He always has.

I bat away the intrusive thoughts of what my life could have been like if I hadn’t run away all those years ago. How many moments like this I could have had with this man and his deliberate aim to make me feel like a goddess.

I clamp down over him as he works his cock against the spot deep in my core, pushing and pulling a bare inch to give it constant stimulation. My moan is low and deep.

“ Ezra …”

He groans, holds his breath, pants. “Fuck, Avery.”

He’s shaking as his arms close around me, like he wants to say more but can’t bring himself to.

I kiss him hard as he works me toward my own end. It doesn’t take long for him to nudge me over the edge.

Settling me over him, he soothes me with a few rubbing circles before he swings me over to lie on the couch and taps my hip.

My insides go gooey as I slip over to my stomach and arch my hips up for him. I more than remember this move from Cancún as Ezra hovers over me and his cock slides home. I moan as he swears above me.

And then, he’s rolling into me, the hard muscles of his hips slapping my ass with soft smacks. The lingering quakes from my orgasm spark new pleasure with his languid pace.

In Mexico, beyond our inability to be separated from each other for long, beyond being unable to keep our hands off each other, beyond his silly ass simply carrying me around because he didn’t want to let me go, Ezra would sneak me off to a hidden corner, lift up my skirt, and take me like this.

Body pressed against mine, hips pumping in short, strong moves. His mouth pressed behind my ear as his hand rubbed my clit. Ezra always ended up covering my mouth to muffle my moans.

His entire body moves over me now, and it’s so much better at this slow pace with an orgasm already docked.

Chest and shoulders caging me, Ezra’s nose nuzzles the back of my neck, and his angle sharpens. God damn, I’m blissing out, squirming under him, unable to keep the new orgasm at bay.

Ezra’s hand covers my mouth as I cry out, and his other hand dives under me, finding my clit and applying a steady pressure that only heightens the tumultuous ecstasy roiling through me.

He’s making soft noises in my ear as he ruts against my ass.

I’m struggling against the weight of the pleasure. It’s growing and stretching wide, and I’m stuck, shaking until he bucks against me, mumbling something against the back of my neck that I can’t quite make out.

But his hand slides from my mouth to entwine his fingers with mine. His other lifts along my thigh and squeezes my ass cheek reverently. It’s similar to how he used to touch me, but now he seems more possessive. Like he’s not willing to let me go again.

When he does retreat, he helps me clean up and walks me down to the lab to deliver me to Wyatt.

I don’t have a hair out of place and my pink cheeks have faded, but when Wyatt sees me, he gives me a small, knowing smile. It’s the slightest thing, but I know the micromovements of his features.

Laurel must, too, because she looks between the three of us and gives me a disapproving scoff before she goes to the big storage rooms to monitor supplies. It’s the kind of move that makes me more suspicious of her.

Like she’s conceding a battle to regroup and come at me harder. I don’t understand it, but it’s something I’ve seen before.