Escaped Artist (Untamed #3) by Victoria Green, Jinsey Reese Page A

while, I focused on her and only her. Those beautiful eyes swimming with lust. That soft smile playing across her lips. The erotic curves of her body.
    The piece of art that was Ree.
    “Oh, god.” Her head fell back and she practically sang my name as her muscles contracted around me, taking me in further, pulling me deeper.
    My hands slid over her ass before settling on her hips, directing her to set the pace she needed. I surrendered control, worshipping her as she rode me, savoring this moment.
    I wanted to show her what it meant to be loved.
    She deserved love.
    So much fucking love.
    “I don’t ever want this to stop,” she said as if she’d read my mind.
    “Then keep moving, baby.”
    She pulsed up and down, first slowly, then faster and faster until we were both breathing heavily. Giving her full control of this moment was a test of will.
    Her legs quivered, and her eyes rolled back in her head, the air around us thick and heavy with sex and freedom. Every sultry moan spilling from her lips confirmed we were each other’s missing half.
    Two parts. One whole.
    One hand still on her hip, my other climbed to her chest, claiming her heartbeat as I possessed her from the inside out. The move—combined with my length breaching a nerve-filled territory—pushed her over the edge with the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, and I exploded with her, pleasure engulfing us as she broke apart, crumbling against me, trusting me to cushion her fall. Just like she had that very first night we’d spent together.
    I pushed her hair out of her face as she continued to tremble on my chest. “You know what else I see when I look at you?”
    “A thoroughly satisfied girlfriend?” We were speaking in pants, our breaths one and the same.
    Girlfriend . We’d never used that word before. Ree was beyond girlfriend for me.
    That realization was like a blast of endorphins to the heart.
    “I see a phoenix,” I said. “A woman who rose from the ashes and is going to conquer the entire fucking world one day.”

thirteen

    T wo weeks later, I was on day twenty-seven without Ree and my own detox was failing miserably. There was no way in hell I could get her out of my system.
    Nor did I want to.
    Not anymore.
    Though we spoke on the phone nightly and I drove out to visit every Sunday, we hadn’t been able to sneak in a repeat performance in her room. I missed the feel of her, the smell of her, the thrill of her mere presence.
    And I missed drawing her.
    Once I’d put pencil to paper again after so many weeks without it, I was going crazy to get back to my art. I hadn’t said anything to her yet, but was hoping that maybe once she was out and I was done with my commitment at the tattoo shop, we could head back to Paris together, pick up where we’d left off.
    Still, I couldn’t complain. The time she spent at the facility was paying off. Slowly, but surely she was becoming my true Ree—the girl I’d seen glimpses of and fallen hard for. She’d always been there, but had too often been eclipsed by all-consuming pain. Now the sadness in her eyes was ebbing, giving way to strength and determination.
    And happiness.
    This last week, instead of being submerged in the darkness of the past and talking about the mindfuck that was her family, she’d focused on looking toward a brighter future. Her dream of discovering talent and covering the walls of her own gallery with art was no longer just a fantasy. She now saw it as a reality, a real possibility. And I was going to do whatever it took to help her realize it.
    Running with Leo had become a morning ritual of sorts. It relieved some of my tension. Not to mention, it got me away from the constant orgy inside the house. It was as if every member of No Man’s Land—save for Leo who had a girl back in L.A.—was trying to fuck someone out of their mind. Two or three times night.
    It didn’t help that rock stars apparently gave zero flying fucks about noise levels. “The louder, the