Chapter Seventy-Eight.

Jazzlyn’s sight was set upon the swaying transparent curtains as they drifted against the winds that flushed through the cabin windows. She was lying across the bed when the morning shore scent breezed through her nose mixed with the chef’s early breakfast aroma.

Los Angeles was as different to Norman as it could possibly be.

The breeze from the sea was cold and often times the sight, more beautiful. There was a traditional bustling vibe you would get but with a mix of strong community—that was only when you did dive further into the city. Having spent a majority of their vacation days on the beach however, Daniel and Jazzy had accustomed themselves to the diversity and enchante of the place.

Enchante, because most people would argue that LA was just as much as a city of love as Paris was.

She parted her eyes open after an adrenaline-filled night and her hands softly toiled the edges of his moist skin. When Jazzy lifted her gaze, they were immediately met by his eyes that were alread