The Things We Leave Unfinished Yarros, Rebecca (reading like a writer .TXT) 📖

“I’m great,” she promised, her smile shaky as the burn lessened and her muscles relaxed.

“You feel like heaven, but better. Hotter,” he said through gritted teeth.

She moved slightly, testing the feel of him inside her.

“God. Scarlett. Don’t do that.” His brow furrowed like he was in pain. “Give yourself a moment.”

“I’m fine.” She smiled up at him and did it again.

He groaned, withdrawing slowly and sliding back in. The burn was still there, but it was nothing compared to the indescribable pleasure of him moving inside her.

“Again,” she demanded.

A wicked smile lifted his lips as he did exactly as she ordered, making both of them moan this time. Then he set a rhythm, taking her with slow, deep thrusts that drove that tension within her a little higher each time. Every stroke felt better than the last.

They moved together like one soul stretched between two bodies, seamless as they shared the same space, the same air, the same heart.

“Jameson.” She felt that wave building again, and she tightened, her hips rising to meet his as he thrust faster, harder.

“Yes,” he said against her lips, working his hand between them and pushing her right over that edge, hurling her into a kaleidoscope of bliss and color as she came apart in his arms again.

She was still swimming in the throes of her climax as she felt him drive into her with abandon, keeping her with him as he tensed above her, shouting her name as he found his release.

They were a tangle of sweaty limbs and complete euphoria as he rolled to his side, taking her with him as they struggled to steady their breathing. He traced lazy circles on her back as her heartbeat calmed.

She felt spent and utterly, completely sated as her lips curved upward. “If I’d known you were capable of that, we wouldn’t have waited.”

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest into hers. “I’m glad we did. This has been the best day of my life, Mrs. Stanton.”

“Mine too.” Her heart leaped at her new name. She was well and truly his. “I just wish we had time for a honeymoon.” As it was, they were both on duty in the morning.

“Every night of our lives will be our honeymoon.” He caressed her cheek. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you deliciously, wonderfully happy.”

“You already do.” She glanced at her fingers as they trailed over the defined muscles of his arm. “When can we do that again?” The craving for him had only grown.

“Are you sore?” Concern filled his eyes.

“No.” Tender a bit, but not sore.

“Then right now.” He kissed her and started all over again.

Chapter Fifteen

Noah

Scarlett, my Scarlett,

How are you, my heart? Do you think you could bring the roses here? I hate to think you and Constance put in all that work just to leave it behind. I promise you, when we get to Colorado, I’ll build you a garden you never have to move from and a shady place to sit and write on sunny days. I’ll build your happiness with my own two hands. God, I miss you. Hopefully I’ll find us some digs in the next few days, because I’m losing my mind here without you. Kiss our sweet boy for me.

I love you with my entire soul,

Jameson

Use the opt-out.

That wasn’t going to happen. I signed a contract that I’d complete the book, and I would. But keeping my word meant getting closer to the only woman who made me want to kiss the shit out of her as she drove me up a wall.

This was dangerous territory, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Georgia had me just as knotted up about her as I was the damned book. The two were so closely intertwined that I couldn’t separate them. She was just as stubborn as Scarlett had been the first time Jameson met her, but unlike Jameson, I didn’t have a Constance to help me out.

Unlike Scarlett, Georgia had already had her trust and heart broken.

I was zero for two when it came to Georgia, and at an impasse when it came to the book.

Georgia was right. Scarlett wasn’t a character; she was a real person who had really loved Georgia. Given what I’d seen from her mother and the asshole ex, she might have been the only person in the world who had truly, unconditionally loved Georgia.

That’s what I kept in mind as I stood on Georgia’s front porch with one last pitch and an armful of what I hoped would be goodwill. I’d been in Colorado for two weeks, climbed two easy fourteeners, and as of yesterday, I had two plot lines ready to write. In a few days, I’d only have two months until my deadline.

“Hey,” she said with an awkward smile as she opened the door.

“Thanks for seeing me.” One day I would get used to those eyes knocking me off my feet, but today was not that day. Her hair was up, too, revealing the long line of her neck. I wanted to run my lips along the column, then— Knock it off.

“No problem, come on in.” She stepped back, and I walked through the door.

“This is for you.” I handed over the muslin-covered root ball carefully so she didn’t prick herself on the thorns of the plant above. “It’s an English tea rose, aptly named Scarlett Knight. I thought you might like it for the garden.” It was quite possibly the most awkward gift I’d ever given, but here I was giving it, because I somehow sensed that even a tiny blue box wouldn’t move this woman.

“Oh! Thank you.” She smiled, real and true as she took the plant, appraising it with a gardener’s eye. I knew that eye well. My mother had it. “It’s lovely.”

“You’re welcome.” My gaze skipped over the table in the entry, catching on the vase. The edges of the glass wave had the same frothy texture as the piece in New York. “You made