Chapter 11 #2
A little spark flashes in her eye, the same kind I saw right before I convinced her to get out on the dance floor with me. I love that spark. “So let’s play.”
“What?”
“Count to ten, honey.” I turn for the door as her face reads confused amusement. “See you soon.”
“Hey,” she calls after me with a laugh, but instead of answering, I take off down the hall, fast and light on my feet. She’ll play the game.
I keep running until I find myself in a room I’ve never been in before.
High ceilings like the rest of the house, gorgeous old wooden baseboards, and three rectangular stained-glass windows glowing in green, blue, and purple on the far wall.
I picture the house’s exterior of the section I’m in, and I’m betting that inside the closet on the far wall is a small door with a little attic beyond it.
Opening the closet, I find my hiding spot exactly as I imagined it: a tiny unfinished space so small I have to crawl to fit inside the narrow walls and sharply sloped ceiling.
It smells of yellowed old paper and is at least ten degrees colder than the rest of the house.
Groping for a light switch, my hand closes around an old metal pull chain, and a dust-coated bulb sticking out from the wall flickers to life.
For a long time, there’s only silence. Maybe she’s refusing to play.
But that’s not Georgia’s style. She’s quiet and reserved, but the last thing I’d call her is uptight.
After a night spent sweating against her on the dance floor, it’s clear she’s dying to let loose and have fun, she just needs someone to take her there.
Finally, faint footsteps sound, quick, then stopping, then quick again.
She’s searching for me. I grin, feeling like a little kid in the best way.
Until I picture her padding up and down the halls, hair bouncing, stopping in every room and searching behind every door, determined to find me—then I feel totally turned on.
Not that I haven’t spent years being chased by women, but this, being hunted by beautiful, gentle, unassuming Georgia?
Fuck. I want her to catch me like I’ve never wanted anything before.
I reach down and squeeze my hardening dick.
Easy, Cash.
The floorboards creak nearby. Instinctively, I stiffen and hold my breath, and my heart thumps like we actually have stakes in this game.
She’s in the room—I can feel her on the other side of the closet, gliding around.
She mutters something I can’t make out, then silence follows.
The floorboards creak again, this time farther away.
She’s not going to find me, which means I win, and normally that would have me smiling to myself, but for once, I don’t care about winning.
At the top of my voice, I let out a bellowing, shrill “Caw!” like a crow, knowing it’ll make her laugh. A shriek sounds from the other side of the wall, followed by Georgia’s laugh.
“Oh my god,” she says, her voice closing in as she yanks open the doors that separate us, and there she is, grinning down at me and shaking her head like I’m in trouble.
“Now, how in the world did you find me?” I tease.
Her cheeks are flushed and her hair’s out of place like she really was hunting me. “Hey, I would have found you eventually—even without the bird call.”
“Sure, honey. You tell yourself whatever you want.”
I bask in the way she holds my eye for an extra second, loving that her quiet signals are becoming easier for me to read every time we’re together. But it’s over too soon. “What is this space?” she asks, switching her focus to the area behind me.
I reach for her hand and pull her inside. “Come and see.” She resists slightly, but not enough to matter. Inside, it’s impossible for our bodies not to touch, and I decide right there I could happily call this chilly closet home for the rest of my life if she’s inside it.
Her teeth catch her lower lip while she assesses our bare surroundings and looks everywhere but at me.
Desire pumps through me at the sight of her and the way her fingers twist in her lap.
That I can do that to a normally serene Georgia, that she’s in here with me because she wants to be, even though it scares her, is pure fuel for my lust.
“Georgia.” With two fingers, I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, taking in the delicate skin.
It’s not cold in here any longer, and our mingled body heat intensifies her perfume into sharp detail, grapefruit and lime layered with sugar.
But when I lean closer, she turns her head away, and the seed of doubt from earlier blooms into dread.
“Hey. Did I do something wrong the other night? You don’t even want me to touch you today.”
Pressed tightly together, her lips offer me nothing. But she finally lets me see those baby blues, darker in our dim surroundings, and I get my answer; her eyes brim with regret, and my heart pangs at the sight. “I do want you to touch me.” The softness of her voice makes my dick stir.
I groan. “Georgia,” I warn her. “You’re doing something to me with those words.”
Pink splashes across her cheeks. “It’s your sister. She told me about her rule.”
Just like that, my dick deflates. “You mean her bullshit about me not fucking her friends? That’s what this is about?”
“Well, she didn’t use the word fucking. She said dating.”
Relief washes over me to know this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with my sister.
“Whatever word she used, it doesn’t matter.
That doesn’t apply to you and me. She doesn’t want me randomly hooking up with her friends.
I get it, and I don’t do it anymore. But you and I aren’t random. We’re…”
Her smile lights up her whole face.
“Exactly. I’m not just trying to sleep with you, Georgia. I’m not here to see if something can happen between us. It already happened. You feel that, right? Because if you don’t, I’m doing something wrong.”
All too quickly, her smile fades. “That doesn’t matter to Maisy. She was clear. She wants us to stay away from each other.”
Irritation pricks at me. “Well, we’re not gonna stay away from each other. We’re renovating a house together. I don’t see her over here volunteering to do that with you.”
“We’re working on the house just as friends.”
“We were never just friends. The first time I looked at you, we were more than friends.”
“The first time you looked at me, we were ten.”
“Okay, you got me there. The first time I looked at you in the last decade, I knew we were something special.”
Black lashes fluttering, she tilts her head down.
Mere inches separate us, though they might as well be miles for how far she feels from me right now.
Goose bumps spread up my arm as I run my fingers under her jaw, encouraging her to face me again.
And as I glide my hand down her neck, she swallows, her throat contracting under my fingers.
Her gaze drops to my hands when they settle inches above her breasts. She took her sweater off earlier, so there’s no hiding the way her nipples turn to stiff peaks under her tight black tank. Fuck.
Shallow breaths lift her chest, and the pink from her cheeks has spread down her neck, her body betraying her. She’s not supposed to want this. But she must not regret it because her eyes catch on mine, round and unguarded and liquid with desire.
Time comes to a stop around us as I lean in and kiss her, and she exhales a tiny sound into my mouth, soft and compliant. Her tongue takes mine, so ready for me.
I glide my hand down her chest, the sensation of her hard nipple sending pangs of need through me. The steady pulse in my balls kicks into double speed as I squeeze her full breast. And I swear I could die right now knowing nothing could be better than this feeling.
“Georgia,” I whisper against her lips. “You do something to me, you know that? I don’t know what the fuck it is, but you do.”