Georgia
Jameson,
I miss you. How long has it been since we’ve written letters? Months? Even living in the same house, your flight schedule and my watches have us missing each other by minutes. It’s the sweetest form of torture, sleeping next to your pillow, my head filled with your scent, knowing you’re flying in the skies above me. I pray that you’re safe, that you’re reading this while I’m already at work, smiling as you fall asleep next to my pillow with my scent, wishing you were holding me. Sleep well, my love, and maybe I’ll make it home this afternoon before you’re due on the flight line. I love you.
Scarlett
“You’re sure?” Helen asked, her tone efficient as always. Gran’s agent had always left minimal room for nonsense, which was why Gran had chosen her after the first had passed away twenty years into her career.
“Absolutely,” I assured her, switching the phone to my other hand and crossing into the entry way. “I already told him when he called a couple of weeks ago, but Damian has all the Scarlett Stanton rights he’s going to get. And you know how Gran felt about movies. I don’t care what he’s offering: the answer is no.”
She chuckled. “I sure do. Okay, then, no manuscript for Ellsworth Productions.”
My heart ached at the mention of the company I’d helped build, which only made me that much more determined not to give my ex another single thing.
“Thank you.” I headed for the giant bowl of candy on the entry table and
refilled it with a fresh stock of Snickers bars.
“Of course,” Helen said. “And honestly, I’m looking forward to telling him to stick it. I think I’ll give him a call when we’re done. How is that manuscript coming, anyway?”
I paused at the foyer mirror, adjusting my witch hat while taking in the added bonus of seeing Noah in the reflection, typing at Gran’s desk behind me. Lord, that man even made writing look sexy. His shirtsleeves were pushed up his forearms, and his brow was furrowed in concentration as his fingers flew over his keyboard.
“Georgia?” Helen prompted.
“It’s coming.” Which was more than I could say for me, since I’d dutifully kept my hands off the writer-in-residence. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about that almost-kiss or contemplate climbing into his lap for a do-over so I could follow through with at least one of the daydreams I’d had about his mouth on mine. The doorbell rang for the millionth time that evening. “Gotta run, Helen; it’s a madhouse around here tonight.”
“Happy Halloween!”
We hung up, and I opened the front door, offering the kids a wide smile. Halloween was the best. For one night, you could be whomever you wanted
—whatever you wanted. Witches, Ghostbusters, princesses, astronauts, the Black Knight from Monty Python, nothing was off the table.
“Trick or treat!” two kids said in unison, their parents bundled up behind them. Halloween snowstorms happened in Poplar Grove more often than not.
“What do we have here?” I asked, dropping to their eye level. “A firefighter and a…” Oh God help me, I was clueless. What was that costume?
“Raven!” the boy answered enthusiastically, muffled a bit by the scarf awkwardly wedged into his costume.
“Right!” I plunked a full-size Snickers bar into each bag.
“Whoa, nice Fortnite skin!” Noah said behind me, his voice alone sending a thrill down my spine. Of course he knew.
“Thanks!” The boy waved. “Thank you!” his sister added.
The two raced back to their parents and started the walk down the drive, leaving footprints in the fresh inch of fallen snow.
“I didn’t think you’d get so many trick-or-treaters, since you’re so far out of town.” Noah moved back so I could close the door.
“Gran always gave out full-size bars. Earned her quite the crowd.” I put the candy on the table and turned to face him. “How’s it going in there?”
“Finished for the day.” He tilted the brim of my hat upward, drawing my eyes to meet his. “How about you? Feel like a badass after closing on the studio today? Because you are.”
“Maybe a little.” I couldn’t help but smile. It was really happening. “Plus, I got both furnaces and the annealing oven ordered. Which ending are you working on?” I asked, willing my body not to heat, my cheeks not to flush. Not that it mattered—the look in those deep brown eyes told me Noah Morelli was more than aware of the effect he had on me. I recognized the same need in him, from the scalding hot gazes to the innocent touches that only lasted long enough to singe my skin and leave me craving more.
“Mine,” he answered with a shameless grin. “Hmmm.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll write your sobfest next.” “Poignant,” I reminded him.
“Whatever you want to call it. I’ll win you over in the end.” Oh yeah, that was a definite smirk.
“We’ll see.” After all these weeks, it was still my go-to answer, even though I was more certain than ever about the ending I’d pushed for. And as for him winning me over in real life? Okay, he had me there.
He glanced around the entry, then stepped into the sitting room. “What are you looking for?” I asked.
“It just occurred to me. I’ve never seen the phonograph.”
“You wouldn’t,” I said with a shrug. “Gran said it broke or something back in the late fifties.”
“That’s too bad.” Disappointment flickered over his features. The doorbell rang again, and he took the candy bowl with a soft smile. “I’ve got this one.”
Watching Noah hand out candy to another group of kids turned my insides to mush. Call it biology, or the result of hundreds of thousands of years of evolution, but being good with kids was…well, hot.
“Want me out of your hair?” he asked after he closed the door. There was no expectation in the question, which only made it that much more enticing. He was an audacious flirt, but never pushed for more, even after I’d almost kissed him in the office.
You should have kissed him in the office, you masochist. Look at him.
“Not at all.” That was the problem. It didn’t matter how much time I spent with Noah, I always wanted more. “Why don’t you stick around?”
“Happy to.” His voice lowered.
I nodded and yanked my gaze from his before he saw too much.
…
It was half past eight before the last trick-or-treaters had come and gone. “There won’t be any more,” I said as the grandfather clock chimed. “You can see the future?” Noah asked with a faint smile.
“I wish.” I scoffed. If I could have seen the future, I would have known what the hell I was doing. As it was, I had no clue.
I wanted him. That was easy enough to justify. But this… Whatever this was, it was far beyond physical want. I liked him, enjoyed being around him, talking to him, figuring out what made him laugh. In that way, this was already so much more dangerous than chemistry. I’d already trusted him with my life and Gran’s story. I was frighteningly close to trusting him as a friend…maybe a lover. “It’s a town rule,” I explained, taking off my witch hat. “Trick or treating ends at eight thirty.”
“You actually have a rule about trick-or-treating?” His eyebrows rose. “We do.” I nodded. “It’s right up there with awning covers, but we have
it. Welcome to small-town life.”
“Fascinating,” he mused as his phone rang. He took it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Shit,” he muttered. “It’s my agent.”
“You’re welcome to take it in the office if you want,” I offered.
His brow knit. “Are you sure? I don’t want to tie you down if you have hot Halloween plans.”
“Maybe I like being tied down,” I said as evenly as I could manage. He arched a single brow, and his eyes darkened.
“Go take your call.” I stifled a grin. Guess he wasn’t the only audacious flirt around here.
“Trouble. Georgia Stanton, you are pure trouble.” He blew out a deep breath, then swiped to answer his call as he walked into Gran’s office, which I really needed to stop thinking of as hers. “Hey, Lou. What’s so important that you’re calling me from Hawaii?”
He didn’t shut the door, but I walked away to give him privacy. A stab of anxiety hit me square in the chest, knowing he was probably discussing his future. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I muttered to myself.
This wasn’t Noah’s only upcoming project, of course. He’d been putting out two books a year for the last eight years. Eventually, he would finish this one. Eventually, he would start the next. Eventually, he would leave.
Every day he worked brought us closer to his inevitable departure. Two months ago, I would’ve relished in that knowledge, counted down the days until Noah was out of my life. Now the thought sent a jolt of panic straight through me.
I didn’t want him to go.
I ditched the hat and stepped out the front door, welcoming the blast of icy air, then blew out the candles inside the two jack-o’-lanterns the English club from the high school had given me. They’d carved them for Gran the last decade. A quick check of the snow-covered driveway told me we didn’t have any trick-or-treating stragglers, so I came back inside and closed the door.
“Ellsworth offered what? Just to see it?” I heard Noah’s raised voice
through the office door. “The manuscript isn’t even done yet.”
I froze, my heart lodging in my throat, and though I desperately wanted to move, wanted to shut my ears against what was coming, I couldn’t seem to make myself go. I’d already told Damian there was no chance of him getting his grubby little hands on the manuscript, and it would be a cold day in hell before he got anywhere near the performance rights. Helen had no doubt relayed that same message again tonight.
I should’ve known he’d go to Noah next.
Don’t do it. The plea stayed firmly behind my teeth. If Noah was going to betray me, it was better to know now.
“Did he?” Noah’s tone sounded almost jovial. “No, you did the right thing. Thank you.”
Did the right thing? What did that mean? Sure, Noah liked me, but if I had learned one thing about this industry, it was that money trumped personal affection every time. And there was an ungodly amount of money to be made here.
Noah laughed unabashedly. My pulse leaped.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve never wanted his name connected to any of my books. And I’m glad we’re on the same page, Lou. I don’t give a shit what he said—she doesn’t want him to have it. Not even to read.”
I held my breath. Maybe…
“Because I was there when she told him to fuck off. Not that she used those exact words, but that was the gist, and I don’t blame her.”
A slow smile spread across my face. He chose me.
The concept was so wild that it took a moment to sink in. He. Chose. Me. As if the knowledge unlocked my feet, I was suddenly moving toward the office, pushing the door fully open, and standing before Noah.
He sat perched at the edge of the desk, one palm braced on the surface, the other holding his phone to his ear as he looked me in the eye. “He has first right of refusal?”
“I’m not selling the rights. It doesn’t matter,” I said, electricity humming under my skin like a living, breathing current. His words had done what
weeks of flirting and sexual tension hadn’t—broken down my last defense. I was done fighting this.
“Did you hear her, Lou?” Noah smiled at whatever his agent said. “Yeah, I’ll tell her. Enjoy the rest of your vacation.” He hung up and set the phone down on the desk. “She gave him first right of refusal on future deals?” His eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“At the time, she gave me first right of refusal. I started the production company with Damian, remember? What did your agent say?” Less than six feet separated us. Any closer, and there wouldn’t be any more talking.
“That he’s a pompous asshole.” A corner of his lips lifted. “True.” I nodded. “What did he offer you?”
“A contract on two of my un-optioned books, which is funny, since I’ve already shot him down previously.” Noah shrugged. “And that was just to get a look at the manuscript.”
“You didn’t give it to him.”
“It’s not mine to give.” The muscles in his forearms rippled as he gripped the edge of the desk. “And I’ll be damned if I’m giving him anything, let alone something that’s yours.”
I closed the distance between us, took his face in my hands, and kissed him. The hard lines of his mouth were impossibly supple against mine as our lips collided, softened, lingered.
“Georgia,” he said against my mouth, my name somewhere between a plea and a prayer as he drew back slightly, searching my eyes.
“You won me over,” I whispered, my hands sliding to the back of his neck.
A smile ghosted across his face, and then his lips were on mine, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me against his strong frame.
I gasped, my lips parting for him.
He tunneled a hand through my hair, cradling the back of my head as he deepened the kiss, laying claim to my mouth with thorough, sure strokes of his tongue that set me on fire. A small whimper I barely recognized as mine escaped at the taste of chocolate and Noah.
He tilted my head and kissed me deeper as I arched against him, rising on my toes to get closer. His hand moved to the small of my back as he explored the lines of my mouth with single-minded focus, as if nothing existed outside this kiss.
Need spiraled within me, fierce in its demand as the kiss went on and on. Noah kept me on edge, changing the tempo—hard and deep, then soft and playful, nipping at my lower lip with the gentle scrape of his teeth, only to soothe the sting with a swipe of his tongue.
I’d never been so completely, thoroughly intoxicated by a kiss.
More. I needed more.
I slid my hands from his neck to grip the hem of his shirt and tugged. “Georgia?” He questioned between kisses.
“I want you.” The confession was a whisper, but I’d given it. Offered my truth up on a silver platter for him to accept or reject.
“Are you sure?” His dark eyes studied mine with equal parts heat and concern, a slightly wild edge to him, as though his self-control was as tenuous as mine.
“I’m sure.” I nodded, just in case the words weren’t enough, and ran my tongue across my kiss-swollen lower lip as an unwelcome thought slid into my mind. “Do you want…” This had the potential to be up there with the most embarrassing moments of my life if I’d read the signals wrong.
“What do you think?” He pulled my hips into his, and I felt him hard between us.
“I’d say you do.” Thank you, God.
“Just so there’s no confusion, here.” His fingers traced the line of my jaw. “I’ve wanted you from the first second I saw you in that bookstore. There’s never been a moment I haven’t wanted you.” If his words hadn’t melted me, the intensity in his eyes would have.
“Good.” I grinned and tugged at his shirt again.
He reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off in one smooth motion, leaving him bare from the waist up.
My mouth went dry. Every line of his torso was carved, and the
beautifully defined muscles covered by yards of soft, kissable, inked skin. This man was every single one of my fantasies come to life. I ran my fingers down the sculpted ridges of his chest and abdomen, my breath growing choppier with each inch I traveled, then catching at the sight of that deep vee that disappeared into his jeans.
When I finally brought my gaze back to his, the hunger I found there weakened my knees.
He captured my mouth in another kiss, stealing every logical thought with every thrust and swirl of his tongue against mine.
We broke apart only long enough for my shirt to land next to his, and then our mouths fused again, like it wasn’t just a kiss but oxygen. My hands flew to the fly of his jeans.
He caught my hands. “We can take this slow.” Even the rasp of his voice turned me on.
“Sure. Slow, later. Fast, here. Now.” The urgency clawing its way through me wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than hot and hard.
The sound that escaped him reminded me of a growl before he sealed his mouth over mine and kissed me senseless. We were a tangle of hands and mouths, kicking off our shoes before Noah gripped my ass and lifted me like I weighed nothing.
My legs wrapped around his waist, and I locked my ankles at the small of his back as he carried me from the office, striding up the stairs without so much as getting winded. Tension radiated from his muscles as he walked us down the hall and into my bedroom, but his kiss never wavered.
I felt the bed under my back as Noah rose above me, his hands sliding under me to unclasp my bra. Then it, too, was on the floor, followed quickly by my jeans.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said reverently, sitting back on his knees as he slid his fingers along my throat, down the valley between my breasts, and over my stomach to the thin straps of my underwear. My skin tingled in the wake of his touch.
I mentally gave myself a high-five that I’d gone with the pink lace thong
this morning on a whim—then that was gone, too, the lacy fabric quickly replaced by his mouth.
“Noah!” I cried, fisting one hand in his hair as the other clutched at the covers to keep me grounded.
Holy shit, the man’s tongue was magical. He worked me with sweeping strokes, quick flicks, and even the light scrape of his teeth, cradling my hips as I began to writhe beneath him. The pleasure was too intense, too consuming, too wild, and it only grew as he slid first one, then two fingers inside me. I clenched around him, my eyes slamming shut against the onslaught, my neck arching as he stroked me. It had never been like this for me. Ever. How had I lived without this desperate desire that was turning me molten? I didn’t just want him, I needed him.
The fire he stoked gathered in my belly, coiling like a spring, winding tighter with every lick, every press of his fingers, until my thighs trembled and my muscles locked. Then he sucked my clit between his lips, and I shattered, the orgasm sweeping over me in long, powerful waves that had me screaming his name.
He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, then rose over me with a satisfied smile—like he’d just had the orgasm of his life, not me. “I could spend days with you under my tongue and still want more.”
That flame of need flared back to life, bright and hungry. “I need you.” I threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth to mine, kissing him long and hard.
We separated only long enough for him to strip naked, and I blatantly ogled the lines of his ass as he slipped a condom from his wallet, dropping the leather to the pile of denim at his feet.
I sat up and took the packet from him, ripping it open and rolling it onto his length, stroking over him once before he groaned and captured my hands in his.
“Tell me you’re sure.” His words were clipped and low as his gaze locked with mine.
“I’m sure.” I tugged lightly in his grip, urging him back to me.
He took the hint, sliding over me to rest in the cradle of my thighs. He kissed me deeply, learning my curves with long, caressing sweeps of his hands, lingering on my breasts and sweeping his thumbs over my nipples before teasing the dip of my waist and gripping my hips. “Incredible. That’s the only word for you.”
He stole any reply I could have made with a kiss, so I rocked my hips in answer, feeling him thick and hard at my entrance.
“Noah,” I begged, gripping his shoulders.
He lifted his head slightly, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he rolled his hips, filling me inch by slow inch until I’d captured all of him, my body stretching with a slight burn that was more pleasure than pain.
“You okay?” he asked, a fine sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the soft light of the bedside lamp. Restraint was evident in every rigid muscle as he braced his weight on his elbows, watching me for any sign of discomfort.
“I’m perfect,” I assured him, stroking his shoulders and circling my hips as the burn turned to bliss.
“That’s exactly how you feel.” He withdrew slightly, then thrust home with a groan. “God, Georgia. I’m never going to get enough of you.”
“More.”
He obliged. My toes curled as I whimpered, and I lifted my knees to take him deeper.
Then words became obsolete as our bodies took over, speaking for us in every way we needed. He took me slow and hard, driving into me in a ceaseless, aching rhythm that had me straining and arching beneath him, my nails biting into his skin as I gave myself over to the mind-blowing sensations he evoked.
As that pleasure gathered again, surprising me with its intensity, he adjusted his angle, sliding even deeper, rubbing over the most sensitive parts of me with every thrust, driving me higher and higher, until my body went rigid beneath his as I hovered on that precipice.
“Noah,” I whispered, my body locking.
“Yes,” he urged, swinging his hips faster.
I broke apart, calling his name as I came again, gripping him tight and taking him over with me as deeper, stronger swells raced through my body, consuming me—remaking me into something entirely new, entirely his.
“Georgia,” he groaned into my neck, and I decided that was exactly how I wanted to hear him say my name from that moment on.
This…this was life. This was exactly how making love was supposed to feel, and I’d missed out on it up until now. I’d settled for so much less, not knowing that this kind of need had existed—that Noah existed.
He rolled us sideways, holding me close as we recovered, our breaths as unsteady as our heartbeats, but those eyes of his were rock solid on mine, lit with the same joy coursing through my own veins.
“Wow,” I managed to say between breaths, my fingers lightly skimming over his cheek and across the light rasp of his beard. How did this man just get better looking?
“Wow,” he echoed, a grin shaping his lips.
My heart beat wildly, and yet I felt better than I had…ever. Happy. I was happy. Not that I was naive enough to think this would last forever. He didn’t even live here. That silly glow throbbing in my heart was the result of two knee-melting orgasms, not… Don’t even think the word. Liking Noah was one thing; falling for him was quite another.
But then my brain played back the sound of him groaning my name into my neck, and I was a goner, not just falling but plummeting into an emotion I wasn’t ready to deal with, let alone name.
“The way I see it, we have two choices,” he said, brushing my hair back with so much tenderness that a lump formed in my throat. “I can head back to my place…”
“Or?” I trailed a finger down his chest. I liked him just where he was. “Or we ride out the snowstorm together right here in this bed.” He
brushed a tantalizing kiss over my lips.
“I’ll take option number two,” I answered with a smile. No matter where this eventually led, I had him for now, and I wasn’t wasting another second.
