Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jefferson
I don’t know what time it is when Georgie wakes up in a panic, gasping for breath.
“Where am I?”
“Georgie. You’re in my room.”
I do my best to calm her down by rubbing her back as she sits up on the mattress, her hands reaching out to the wall to steady herself.
“My room?”
“No, baby. My room. The Dump, remember?”
She splutters and starts to sound more lucid. “Jefferson?”
“I’m here.”
Her breathing slows, and she turns to me.
“You’re here. And this is your room.”
“And this is our bed. Breathe.”
“Our bed?”
“Ours.”
Let’s be clear, I would never take advantage of a woman in a vulnerable state. All I intended to do was cover her back up and hold her tight to me until she went back to sleep.
But that’s not what Georgie wants at this moment. And I live to do whatever Georgie wants. Whatever Georgie needs.
I try to get her settled with me spooned up behind her again, but she’s not having it. She rolls over to face me, our arms and legs tangled together, and presses her soft lips to the base of my throat.
“Jefferson,” she whispers. “I need you.”
“You have me, G.”
I dip my head down, aching to feel those perfect lips on my mouth. To feel her fitted against me, warm and needy.
And dammit, I can’t help myself. She provokes the beast within with every kiss, and I growl against her skin.
Her soft, sleepy whimpers are too much for me. Her leg slung over my middle is everything.
“Need you,” she repeats, her smooth, perfect thigh sliding over my skin. “Need you to touch me.”
I nearly come apart when I reach between her legs, suddenly remembering that she’s wearing my boxers.
I tug almost angrily at the waistband until she shifts upward and helps me shove the boxers down. I sweep them off and toss them aside, happy and relieved to have her back where I wanted her. As if those few seconds of lost contact between our bodies threatened to ruin my night.
I slide my hand between her thighs and cup her warm, soft pussy. She ignites at my touch, urging me onward with her clawing fingers on my shoulders.
The wet heat I find between her folds has my mouth watering.
Not that, Jefferson. Not yet. She’s not ready for that. Soon. I’m happily satisfied with getting to know her body. Her likes and dislikes. What makes her cry out, and what makes her melt. I sink one finger into her tight heat, stroking in and out.
“You’re so sweet and wet, Georgie.”
“Yes,” she gasps.
“Is that pretty pussy gonna come for me?”
Georgie answers with an unintelligible whimper.
“Is it?”
She hums, squeezing me with her thighs. “Yes.”
“Whose pussy is it?”
Dazed and confused, she rasps, “Who…?”
“Who does this pussy come for?”
“I…oh…it’s for you…?”
“That’s my girl. She’s a needy little girl, and she comes only for me.”
“Oh …oh my god…” she moans as I stroke in and out, stretching her inner walls.
Georgie whines when I pull out. “Don’t stop…please…”
Her fingers dig into my shoulders.
My mouth finds hers, and my tongue soothes her frustrated cries as the meat of my palm finds her swollen clit.
She cries out into my mouth as I work her over, massaging her there in slow, deliberate circles.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Now,” I murmur in her ear.
Her body seizes, and I muffle her cries with my hand over her mouth. Her honey drenches my hand, and I keep going until she relaxes into me.
I can’t wait until I can do everything with her. Take her outside and show her the world. Make her my wife. My forever person.
For now, I’ll take stolen moments in a closet. Whatever it takes to keep her feeling safe.
I lie there for I don’t know how long, until I’m sure she’s in a deep sleep.
Joaquin can’t keep his big feet from shaking the whole house when he unlocks the back door. I didn’t even hear him leave.
“Where you coming from?” I ask a minute later when I find him at the back door, pulling off his boots.
He gives me an uncharacteristically beaming smile. “Had a pretty big job.”
I nod. “Cool.”
Once his boots are off, he stretches, cracking his back and neck.
“Are you gonna tell me about it?” I ask.
“Since you might have a vested interest in this particular case. Sure. I got the guy they call The Prophet in the back seat of my car.”