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“What are you doing, Little Trespasser?” He grumbled it low, unimmune to the sensation that blistered across my skin.
To what bubbled in my heart and simmered in my spirit.
“You’re right, Ezra. I am inspired.”
“Savannah.” My name was hushed, a warm grumble of praise.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
I kept taking pictures as I circled him, trying to capture his magnificent form at every angle.
My voice was hoarse as I continued to take shot after shot. “You said you’d forgotten what being happy really was until I came here, but I don’t think I even knew what it meant until I met you.”
Slowly he approached, took the camera, and turned it on me. Since he couldn’t seem to be able to tear his gaze from me, he clicked it without looking through the lens, his voice a murmur when he said, “In case you really want to see what beauty looks like.”
Ezra went back to the truck and returned with a blanket and picnic basket. I followed him down a short trail to a grassy spot that protruded out with a better view of the waterfall and valley. Here, the trees were farther back, and the heavens were unobstructed above us.
Ezra spread out the blanket and set the basket on top.
“Sit,” he said.
“Bossy.” The razzing was easy as I sank to the blanket to sit.
He leaned over me, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “You don’t have the first clue, Little Trespasser.”
Each word scraped over me like a rumble of thunder. I shook and the man had the audacity to chuckle as he climbed down the rest of the way and started removing everything from the basket. A bottle of champagne and a fruit tray and some meats and cheeses.
“Are you trying to spoil me?”
He popped the cork on the champagne, filled a flute, and handed it to me. “Has anyone ever done that before, Savannah? Spoiled you?”
My chest squeezed and my head barely shook. “No.”
He took a strawberry from the tray and pressed it to my lips. “I think it’s time we changed that.”
FORTY-THREE
EZRA
It was no sacrifice spoiling Savannah Ward when I was the one deriving all the benefit. She moaned in pleasure every time I lifted another piece of food to her mouth, aqua eyes going wide in some kind of rapture as I fed her.
“You keep making sounds like that and we aren’t going to make it through this meal, and it’s going to be me who’s feasting on you,” I warned.
Those eyes flared again, though the edge of that sexpot mouth quirked as she chewed then swallowed. God, I loved that the woman was always at the ready to play and tease, but there was also something deep about her.
Real and genuine.
“You say that like I’d be complaining.”
I lifted another strawberry to her mouth, and she wrapped those pouty lips around it and sank in her teeth. Juice dribbled out at the corner of her mouth, and I reached out and wiped it, grumbling, “I didn’t bring you out here to get you naked.”
Though if she kept this up, I was liable to say fuck it and decide on a quick change of plans.
“And here I thought you were spoiling me?” She feigned disappointment as she swiped her tongue over the remnants of the juice.
My dick stirred in my jeans, but it was a chuckle that slid out as I gave her a slight shake of my head. “You are something, Savannah Ward.”
“So you’ve been saying.” She lifted a piece of cheese to my lips. “I’m afraid I might not ever get tired of hearing it.”
“Guess I’ll have to tell you every day.” I bit into the cheese and chewed.
“Every day, huh?” She was back to teasing.
I swallowed. “That’s right.”
“Ah, there’s my favorite overbearing hot cop.”
I couldn’t do anything but dive for her, knocking her back onto the blanket as I wrapped her in my arms.
Her laughter rang, and it felt like feathers that floated through my chest.
“Oh my God, Ezra, you brute, get off me. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
I would have all but forgotten about the wound on my side if it wasn’t for the need to hunt down the bastard who was responsible.
I grunted at her. “Nah, I’m good as new.”
I had her pinned by an arm, and she had her champagne flute lifted in the air to keep from spilling it while she giggled and squirmed below me. I had most of my weight off to the side, though I had her pinned with my arm and shoulder. I thought my mouth was in a permanent grin as I pushed it to her ear. “Say it again.”
She stilled and set her flute aside, her laughter tapering off and her breaths turning shallow. “What part?”
“The part where I’m your favorite.”
It took her the longest time to answer, but when she did, it was so quiet I could barely hear her, though I felt it all the way to my soul. “You might be my favorite person in the world, Ezra Patterson, and that terrifies me.”
