Page 92 of Booked on You
“Inside me,” I nearly plead. “I’m on birth control.”
He slows his pace to study me.
“Please,” I whisper.
Ezra kisses me, slow and tender, as his entire body tenses. He buries his face against my neck, a guttural sound escaping him as he meets me on the other side, spilling inside me. We’re lost in the moment.
Time holds still as we cling to each other until our breaths calm.
Ezra shifts onto his forearms, gazing at me with awe.
“I’m never letting you go,” he whispers, brushing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“I don’t think I’d survive if you did,” I admit.
Ezra moves off of me and pulls me closer to face him. He wraps his arms around me, and his fingers trace down my spine. I burrow into his chest, and our breathing falls into a steady, relaxed rhythm. I’m so happy.
“By the way, your rooster tried to attack me.”
Ezra chuckles. “You thought I was joking, didn’t you?”
“Yes!” I sigh dramatically. “He chased me to the porch.”
Ezra’s mouth curves into a lazy grin. “He’ll get used to you.”
“He needs anger management classes,” I reply.
Ezra brushes hair behind my ear. “He’s harmless.”
I trail my fingertips over Ezra’s chest. “Thank you,” I say with a contented sigh.
“For what?” The air around us hums, a calm after the storm of passion.
“For proving that feeling like this was still possible.”
He holds me a little tighter. “I should thank you for the same thing.”
Our breathing slows, and I pull away, stealing a glance at him. Ezra’s eyes are closed, lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. A small smile lifts the corners of his mouth as my fingers trace lazy patterns along his collarbone. He peeks at me. “You’re staring.”
“Just admiring you,” I say.
Ezra’s fingertips trace a slow path along my shoulder, leaving trails of goose bumps in their wake. My body is spent and exhausted yet satisfied. I sigh into the silence.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice a low rumble against my ear.
“That I don’t want to leave this bed,” I admit, my voice muffled against his chest. “Or you.”
His lips brush my temple. “Then don’t.”
Outside, the night grows quieter, and the earlier chorus of crickets fades into a gentle hum.
Ezra shifts and pulls the blankets higher around us. “Sleep, Scarlett,” he whispers. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
His words wash over me, and my eyelids grow heavy. I relax against him, my breathing matching the steady rise and fall of his chest. For the first time in years, the future feels wide open, full of possibilities that no longer scare me. Tonight, I’m staying with him, but is it too early to think about forever?
CHAPTER 22
EZRA
