Chapter 28
Chapter
The moment I undo the button of George’s jeans, he stops me.
“Wait.”
The command comes on a harsh exhale, and an immediate storm of doubt bombards my shaky confidence.
“Sorry.” I tug my hands back, my face flaming.
“I’m going too fast.” Just because he spoke erotic words doesn’t mean he’s ready to act everything out.
Damn adrenaline crush. I’ve been lusting after George for months now, while he probably just recently started thinking of me in any kind of romantic way.
“You’re not.” He grabs my hand and presses a hard, reassuring kiss against my palm. “But I’m not going to start something only for Jet to come barging in halfway through and ruin it.”
I let out a relieved chuckle. “How would she do that?”
“I don’t know. Stare at us, maybe. Meow in the middle of my dirty talk. Use my ball sack as a claw toy.” George stands, and I let out a surprised yelp when he grips my ass to lift me with him. “The possibilities are endless. Each one worse than the last.”
Chuckling, I wrap my arms around George’s neck and hold on as he carries me deeper into his home until we reach a closed door.
It opens to a bedroom with walls painted a rich, dark blue.
The man seems to like dark colors on his walls, and I find the decoration choice warm rather than oppressive.
George quickly shuts us in, ensuring no cat disruptions will occur.
His bed is huge, and I can’t wait to roll around in the massive thing, but for the moment, he settles us on the edge. We’re in the same position we were on the couch, only it seems a hundred times more intimate because we’re in his bedroom.
I’m in George Bunsen’s bedroom.
I’m in my flight instructor’s bedroom.
No. Don’t think of it like that.
Hot palms cradle my face, holding me still as he meets my eyes.
“Hey.”
“Hello, George Bunsen,” I respond, then grimace at the overly formal greeting.
He huffs a laugh as his thumbs brush along my cheekbones. “We’re using full names now, Beth Lundberg?”
“Nope. Forget I said that. No full names. In fact, why use names at all? I’ll just use your ‘hot pilot’ nickname.”
“Excuse me?”
Ah, yes. He probably doesn’t know about that.
“They call you ‘hot pilot,’ ” I explain. “At the diner.”
His brows tick up. “They?”
“Riann started it. But now everyone does. Even Billy.” I don’t mention how the cook has taken to referring to George as “Beth’s hot pilot.” I honestly think it’s Billy’s bid to stop Sally’s matchmaking attempts.
“Do you call me ‘hot pilot’?”
As a flush warms my cheeks, I avoid his intense gray eyes. “Of course not.”
A pause. “Could you?”
“What?” I laugh, but the humor is all breathy. “Right now? Would that get you going?”
“Let’s try it and find out.” George leans in and kisses my neck. “And I can call you ‘hot pilot-in-training.’ ”
“Really?” I scoff. “That’s your sexy nickname for me? Five minutes from now, should I expect to hear ‘I’m coming, hot pilot-in-training!’?” The mocking note I try to inject in my voice keeps escaping me as George drags his teeth along my collarbone.
He stops, and I almost cry. “Five minutes?”
“I m-mean”—my need has me stuttering—“I’m a hot pilot-in-training. D-do you really think you’re going to last very long?”
His grin is a press against the heated skin of my neck.
“You make multiple good points,” he murmurs, his breath a teasing breeze, coaxing goose bumps to scatter over my shoulders and down my back.
I hesitate, then go all in. “You called the plane a good girl.”
George pauses in the middle of dragging his tongue up my neck. His broad hands, still gripping my hips, flex with tantalizing pressure. “Did I?”
“When you were trying to keep it steady during the emergency landing.” I deepen my voice to imitate him. “Come on. Hold right there. That’s a good girl.”
He hums a deep note that I feel in my gut. “That’s hot.”
“Right?” I gasp, my fingers fisting in his shirt as I consider if I have the strength to shred the fabric. “It got me wet.”
George stiffens, his entire body rigid beneath me. “Explain. Please.”
He wants coherent sentences? That’s a big ask, but I try.
“Well, you see, it turns out that watching a guy skillfully handle an aircraft when we’re in a life-or-death situation is a huge turn-on for me.
” I feign nonchalance as I confess. “When we landed, the first thing I wanted to do was spread my legs, shove your hand in my pants, and come with you telling me we’re safe and calling me a good girl. ”
George picks me up off his lap and plops me down on the bed beside him.
For a moment I’m mortified, sure that George is going to chastise me for making light of such a dangerous situation. But then he’s on his knees in front of me, easing my legs apart, eyes on the apex of my thighs.
“Start from the beginning,” he rasps. “I want you to tell me every dirty thought you’ve ever had about me while I suck on your clit.” Gray eyes spear into mine. “Can you do that for me?”
“Umm,” I pant. He hasn’t even slipped my underwear off yet, and I’m breathless. “Every one? There’s a lot.”
George’s eyes shut, and he presses a surprisingly gentle kiss against the inside of my knee. “Good.”
I lift my butt, helping him slide off my loose jeans and white cotton underwear. No fancy panties for me. Not that George seems to mind when he balls them in his fist and slips them into his back pocket.
“Oh no.” I sit up from where I was propped on my elbows. “Don’t even think about stealing my underwear as some sexy keepsake.” I do not have the funds to restock.
“Who says I was going to?” George mutters, pressing slow kisses up my inner thigh as his hands hold my knees wide.
“You stuffing them in your pocket like a panty thief does.” I try to glare at him but just end up whimpering as his mouth reaches the crease of my thigh and skips over to the opposite leg without even grazing my pussy.
“What if…” he murmurs the words during the breaks when his mouth isn’t on my skin, only an inch away so I feel his breath. “For every pair I take, I give you a new pair?”
I swallow hard, my tongue thick as I try to form words. “I’ll consider your proposal.”
Another grin presses into my skin. Then his thumbs carefully part my folds so his lips can circle my clit. He sucks, like he promised.
I gasp and writhe and lose all sense of gravity. Only the man’s tongue can ground me in a world of pure pleasure.
George treats my pussy with care and reverence, licking long, slow strokes across my sensitive core. And every time I whimper and beg for more, he tells me, “Not yet.”
“Lie still,” he mutters. “Be a good girl.”
I sob at that, unaware until this moment that praise-filled dirty talk would unmoor me. But from our first flight, I should have known that those two words from George would send me soaring or plummeting.
Stoic George. Quiet George.
Suddenly, I’m desperate to hear his needy noises.
“George,” I gasp his name, and his responding grunt caresses my sensitive core. But I don’t let the decadent sensation push me off course. “Take off your pants.”
When he doesn’t immediately follow my command, I pull on the last thread of my self-restraint. Bending my knee, I manage to brace my heel against George’s shoulder and push him away. He goes without resistance, even while wearing a frown on his mouth, slick with my arousal.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.
“No,” I wheeze, winded by the pleasure wracking my body, demanding a release. “But I want to taste you, too.”
George licks his lips, setting off a shiver along my nerve endings. “Later.”
“Now,” I insist. “At the same time.”
His brows raise slowly, and a hunger lights in his eyes. Then he smiles slow. “Sorry. You’re right.”
“I am.” I smirk as I watch him stand and strip off his shirt in one swift move. “It’s good you’re learning that now.” Then my ability to snark at him fades as he pushes down his pants and briefs and shows me exactly what we’re working with.
I thought his thighs were thick. Looks like that moniker applies to a lot of him.
“I’m not fitting all of that in my mouth, but I will try my best.”
George closes his eyes, drags his hands over his face and then his scalp, and all the while his erection juts proudly. “Jesus, Beth. I’m going to come just from you talking.”
“You could keep my mouth busy,” I offer.
The skin of his jaw whitens as he clenches his teeth, then George reclines on the bed beside me. As I make to move, he drags my body over his, using my thighs as handholds as he brings my pussy back to his face.
“Do whatever you want to me, Beth.” Then he resumes his methodical licking and sucking, and I try to keep my wits about me so I can pay proper homage to his cock.
A bead of precum sits at the tip. I grip his length, angle it toward my mouth, and flick out my tongue to catch the bit of moisture. The body I’m sprawled on goes rigid.
“Fuck.” The curse comes with a hot breath on my core. “Do that again.”
I follow George’s direction.
His hips rock. “Good girl.”
Then he spears his tongue into me, fucking me with his mouth, an arm banded like iron across my back to hold me still. The only way I can deal with my growing pleasure is by aiming all my attention on his dick.
My lips around the tip of him, I suck like a lollipop and pump my hand over his length. George redoubles his efforts on my clit, grunting and groaning as he torments me. We’re almost dueling, torturing each other with desire.
Then the bastard slips two fingers into my slick channel and somehow curves them just right to massage my G-spot.
As if he’s studied the manual on how my body works.
Like while I’ve been taking classes for ground school at night, George has been reading up on Beth’s pleasure zones 101.
He quickly figures out the exact push-and-pull motion to liquefy my brain to a goo of pure ecstasy.