Chapter 29
SCARLETT
“Tell me what you want, babe.”
Ezra’s voice is low, and the way he’s looking at me makes my entire body heat. I just finished my book and sent it to my editor, and now he’s standing in front of me with that look in his eyes that says he’s so damn proud of me.
“You,” I breathe. “I want you.”
He pulls me up from the chair, and his hands slide into my hair as he kisses me again, and I think I forget my own name.
All I care about is the way his mouth feels on mine and how his body presses against me.
Ezra has become my sunshine after the storm, and I can’t help but think how everything led me right back to Charleston.
“Bedroom,” he whispers against my lips.
We stumble inside, and he’s peeling off my clothes before we even make it through the door. His shirt comes off, and I run my hands over his chest, feeling his heart race under my palms. He finishes undressing me, and we fall onto the bed together.
As his thumb brushes against my cheek, everything else disappears.
Nothing else matters when it’s just us.
His mouth travels down my body, and I arch into him because I’ve been waiting for this all day.
Ezra takes his time with me, memorizing my body with his lips.
His hands slide down my sides as he goes lower.
Each kiss feels like a promise, and when he gently pushes my thighs apart and devours me, my breath comes faster.
My fingers thread through his hair as he gives me everything I need.
When he looks up at me, his blue eyes are dark with want and something deeper.
It makes my heart pound and my back arch.
“So fucking sexy,” he whispers against my skin, and the words make my throat tight.
I feel cherished in a way I’ve never experienced before. Nothing about this moment is rushed. It’s like he’s trying to show me with every touch what his words can’t.
“Ezra,” I say, my voice full of desire, knowing if he keeps going, I’ll lose myself.
“Come for me,” he says against my most sensitive part, slowing the rhythm of his tongue to an agonizing pace. Seconds later, I’m losing myself, gasping out as my orgasm crashes over me. It’s an out-of-body experience, and I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine.
He kisses my inner thighs.
“I want you,” I say. “Please.”
He moves up my body, his lips trailing fire across my skin. When he reaches my mouth, the taste of myself on his tongue sends heat spiraling through me all over again.
“God, the sounds you make,” he mutters against my lips.
“Ezra.” His name falls from my lips like a prayer as his forehead rests against mine.
His breathing is uneven as he waits patiently outside my entrance. The anticipation builds until I think I might combust from waiting as his tip teases my entrance. This feels like we’re standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall into something more.
“You’re teasing me,” I whisper.
“Just a little.”
He pushes into me slowly, and we both gasp at the sensation. My back arches off the bed as he fills me completely, stretching me in the most perfect way. For a moment, neither of us moves, and we just breathe together, adjusting to this closeness.
“Fuck,” he mumbles against my neck. “You feel incredible.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans low in his throat. When he starts to move, it’s with that same deliberate pace from before, like he wants to savor every second.
“Harder,” I whisper, my nails digging into his shoulders.
His rhythm changes, becoming more urgent, and I meet him thrust for thrust. The bed creaks beneath us, but I don’t care about anything except the way he’s making me feel. Each movement sends shock waves through my entire body.
“You’re so perfect,” he says, his voice strained. “So damn perfect.”
I pull his mouth to mine, kissing him as we move together.
There’s no space between us now, no beginning or end, just this overwhelming need that we’re both chasing.
I cry out as he slams inside of me, and it feels so good.
He has me climbing toward another peak embarrassingly fast. My breathing becomes ragged.
“So close,” I manage to say.
“Come with me,” he whispers, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Fall apart around me.”
His words push me over the edge. My orgasm crashes through me, stronger than the first. The pleasure overwhelms him, and Ezra follows seconds later, burying his face in my neck as he spills into me.
We stay like that, and we slowly kiss each other, hearts hammering.
“Worth the wait?” he asks.
“Hell, yes,” I say with a laugh.
Eventually, he pulls out, and we clean up. Ezra lies down beside me, opening his arms for me to fall into them. I lean my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat return to normal.
“That was…” I start, then trail off because words feel inadequate.
“Yeah,” he says with a laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “It was.”
The afternoon light filters through the bedroom window. I’m satisfied in a way that goes beyond physical. I finished my book, and Ezra finished me.
He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. “I can’t wait to read your book.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my heart flutter. “I’m actually nervous.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Because what if you don’t like the ending?”
“I’m sure I’m going to love it,” he encourages. “As long as it was happy.”
“It always ends happily,” I tell him. “I don’t write tragedies.”
“You don’t have to live them, either,” he says, brushing his fingers on the outside of my arm.
We settle back into comfortable silence, wrapped up in each other and the afterglow of what we just shared.
Every touch feels electric. We stay in bed for a while longer, just holding each other and existing in this perfect bubble.
My eyes grow tired, and I drift off with him.
I don’t know how long I’m out, but when I wake up, he’s watching me. “Was I snoring?”
“Like a princess,” he says with a laugh. “How was your nap?”
“Great. I’ve never slept so well with anyone else. You’re so comfy,” I tell him.
By the time we’re dressed and back in the living room, the sun is hanging lazily on the horizon. I stand on the deck and look out at the ocean, feeling something shift inside me.
I turn to find Ezra watching me from the doorway.
He crosses to me and wraps his arms around me from behind. “What are you thinking about?”
“I don’t want to stay here anymore.”
He laughs. “You actually want to leave?”
“I want to enjoy my time in Charleston. I love that town.” I turn in his arms to face him. “I finished my book, and I’m done hiding at the beach like we did something wrong. I want to explore Charleston with you.”
His eyes search mine. “You sure?”
“Yes.” I feel fiercer saying it out loud. “We posted those photos because we wanted to be honest about ourselves. Let them take pictures. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Mm. Claiming me?”
“Damn straight.” I smile against his lips.
“We can leave first thing tomorrow morning,” he promises me, tucking my hair behind my ears.
We spend the rest of the evening drinking wine.
Later, we fall asleep tangled together, and I dream about Charleston.
When morning comes, I wake up before him and just watch him sleep. His hair is messy, there’s stubble along his jaw, and he looks so peaceful that I almost don’t want to wake him.
“Mm.” I brush hair off his forehead.
He shifts, and his eyes flutter open. “Morning.”
My hands roam down his body, and I feel how hard he is. “I want you,” I whisper.
“I need you,” he says.
We make love before we leave. Afterward, we load the car, and then he locks up. I take one last look at the deck where I wrote the final chapters of my book and feel grateful for this solitude.
The drive back to Charleston feels different from the drive here. The windows are down, music is playing, and I have my hand out the window, letting the wind rush through my fingers. Everything seems brighter, like I’m seeing the world in HD instead of the fog I’ve been living in.
His hand finds mine, and he brings it to his lips. “You’re so pretty.”
“You are, too.”
Smiles fill both of our faces.
When we finally pull into his driveway, I scan the street for photographers or reporters, but there’s no one. It’s just his quiet street with the live oaks hanging overhead and Spanish moss swaying in the breeze. The house looks peaceful and exactly like it did when I first arrived.
“Guess they got bored,” Ezra says.
“Or Millie scared them off.”
He grabs our bags and we head to the front door. Ezra unlocks it, and we step inside. I follow him to the kitchen, where we find Millie petting Willow on the counter beside her.
“You’re back early.” Millie’s eyes widen when she sees us. “I wasn’t expecting you for a few more days.”
“Change of plans,” I say.
“We decided to come home,” Ezra adds.
“But the photographers—”
“Let them come.” I shrug. “We’re done hiding.”
Ezra threads his fingers through mine and shoots me a wink.
Millie looks between us, and her face breaks into a huge smile. “Well, look at you, finding your spine.”
She pulls me into a hug that smells like vanilla and cinnamon. “I just forgot how to use it for a while.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey.” She squeezes tight. “Both of you.”
My phone rings and I pull it out to see Natalie’s name on the screen. My heart jumps into my throat.
“It’s my editor,” I say.
“Answer it.” Ezra nods toward the living room. “We’ll be right here.”
I walk into the living room on shaky legs and take a breath before answering. “Natalie, hi.”
“Scarlett Collins, you beautiful genius.” Natalie’s voice comes through, loud and excited. “I just finished your manuscript.”
My stomach flips, and I sink onto the couch. “Already?”