Sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, Ezra’s kiss overwhelmed everything inside me. He seemed to be less possessive and more tentative to basking in every second together. I guess without her around, we had time to slow things down. Relishing in his lips, I allowed his body to loom over me, his hands holding me by the waist. His masculine scent of earth and cologne held me under his spell, his hands tugging at the hem of my shirt.
Taking a second to breathe, he lifted it off my head. My raven hair fell in loose tumbles over my shoulder, lavender shampoo wafting in the air. His hand cupped the back of my neck, angling me to look up at him. “Hazel meant nothing,” he told me, his voice eager for me to trust him. He probably thought that’s what I wanted to hear. To know that I meant more
