Chapter 24 #2
There’s a beat where I think maybe that’s the end of it, and then she says, without lifting her head, “Everyone leaves eventually. My mom died. My dad basically made it clear I’m dead to him now. Why would you guys be any different?”
That lands like a punch to the gut. I don’t even have a fucking answer for it, not one that would do any good.
“Because I’m not those people, Georgia.”
She sits there for a few moments, letting the silence suffocate us. And finally, when she does lift her head, it’s because the door creaks open.
I follow her gaze to see Brody, standing there, his face drawn tight. He’s holding a coffee mug in both hands, as if it’s the only thing keeping him upright.
How nice of you to finally show your face. But I swallow the tinge of bitterness. Honestly, maybe he can help me get through to her.
“Can I come in?” he asks, as if this isn’t his fucking boat.
Georgia doesn’t say yes, but she doesn’t say no. Brody takes it as an invitation, steps in, and sits on the floor at the side of the bed. He sets the mug down, then looks up at her with a gentleness I don’t think I’ve ever seen on his face.
He waits until she meets his eyes. “Just so you know, I’m not leaving this—us,” he says. “If you want me gone, you’ll have to throw me overboard.”
Georgia makes a noise, and I can’t tell if it’s a scoff or if she’s about to start crying again.
Brody reaches up and takes one of her hands in his. “We’re going to make it through this, Georgie. We will.”
I slide a little closer, then rest my arm behind her shoulders on the pillow. She leans into it, though just barely.
Eventually, Georgia uncurls a little. She rests her cheek on my shoulder, still holding Brody’s hand. I feel the tension drain out of her in slow waves.
“I don’t know what to do,” she says, voice raw.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I say, smoothing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “We’ll just sit here, and if you want to scream or cry or throw something at my face, I’ll take it.”
She sniffs, then gives a little laugh. “Throwing has never really been my thing. My aim is terrible.”
Brody smiles. “So is mine.”
Georgia lets out a sigh at that and shifts so she’s half in my lap, legs stretched across the bed, head resting on my chest. I stroke her arm in slow, gentle circles.
Brody stays where he is, kneeling by the bed now, his hand curled around her ankle. It’s such a simple gesture—stupid, almost, for three adults to sit here like this—but I can feel how much it means to her.
And how much it means to me.
I tip my head down to kiss the top of her head, and she tilts her face up, eyes bright and searching.
“Hey,” I start, letting myself get lost in her ocean eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
She nods, and that’s all I fucking need.
I bend and gently press my lips to hers. She kisses back more fervently, and the taste of her sets every nerve in my body on fire.
I need her. And she needs me. Us.
Her hands clutch my shoulders, and I let her set the pace this time.
I groan as she climbs into my lap, straddling me as she tangles her hands in my hair.
We kiss like that, bodies pressed together.
Her hips grind against my already hard shaft, and I struggle not to give in to the need to fuck her immediately.
As we break for air, Georgia looks down at Brody. “Come here,” she whispers.
He rises up, slow and deliberate, and she grabs his face in both hands and kisses him—all the while still grinding against me. She bites his lower lip, and he groans, hands locking around her waist as if he’ll never let go.
I can’t help myself. I reach for her, cupping her hip, and she shifts so she’s sandwiched between us, my mouth on her neck while Brody’s on her lips.
We strip her slowly, careful not to rush. The sweatshirt peels away, and I let my hands explore the curve of her spine, the smooth expanse of her back.
She’s more in control than I’ve ever seen her, guiding us, demanding what she needs. It’s intoxicating.
She tugs me in for another kiss, then pulls Brody’s hand to her breast, arching into his touch.
“Please,” she says, and I’m not sure which of us she’s talking to, but it doesn’t matter.
We take turns, kissing, touching, pressing our bodies to hers. Brody’s hands are strong and sure, but there’s a gentleness in the way he palms her ass, lifts her, and lays her down on the mattress. I run my tongue up her inner thigh, feel her shudder, then move up to take her nipple in my mouth.
She grabs my hair, pulls me tighter, and I laugh into her skin. “Impatient much?” I tease, and she glares down at me, eyes on fire.
“Don’t make me beg,” she says, and the words go straight to my cock.
Brody kneels behind her, kissing down the slope of her back, tracing her skin with his mouth. He lifts her hips, and I slide my fingers between her thighs, finding her already soaked and ready.
“You want both of us?” I ask, voice rough.
She nods, biting her lip. “Yes, please. I need you both.”
Brody gives me a look. I nod back, and we move together, a choreography of hands and mouths. We keep her sandwiched in between us, her facing me with her ass to Brody.
He enters her first, letting out a low groan, while I kiss her, hold her, and stroke her clit with gentle, teasing fingers. She gasps, her whole body tightening, then melts, boneless, into the sensation.
I keep my eyes on hers, never breaking contact, as Brody fucks her from behind. She holds my gaze, as her body rocks between us, little whimpers of pleasure slipping from her pretty little lips.
“Harder,” she pants, and Brody obeys, hips snapping with each thrust. I keep my touch light, drawing her out, stoking the fire until she’s shaking in my arms.
“There it is, little peach,” I rasp, feeling her thighs clench down around my wrist and as Brody pounds into her, his fingers in her mouth.
“Oh yes.” Her face contorts as she holds my eyes. When she comes, it’s not the pretty, breathy orgasm she usually has. It’s wild and raw, her whole body wracked with it. “Brody, Emmett,” she tips her head back against Brody, while digging her nails into my shoulders.
“God, you’re so fucking amazing when you come,” Brody grunts, moving slower as she comes down from the high.
I kiss her face, her neck, her shoulders, and suck her nipple into my mouth as Brody fills her pussy with his own release.
Brody pulls out then, and I shift her onto her back, lining myself up, entering her with a groan. She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my ass, and pulls me in as tight as she can.
Brody lies down beside her, kissing her, stroking her hair, while I thrust into her. Georgia rocks into me, her eyes bouncing between Brody and me.
“You feel so goddamn good,” I groan, my body slamming into her.
It doesn’t take long—I’m so on edge, so fucking lost in her, that I come quickly, filling her with every ounce of what I have to give.
She deserves fucking everything.
As soon as I’m finished, we collapse together, tangled and sweaty.
Georgia is the first to speak, nestling in between Brody and me. “Please just don’t leave me,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around both of us.
Brody and I both answer in unison.
“Never.”