Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Jefferson
I didn’t intend to kiss Georgie.
Well, that’s not true. Just not immediately.
The plan was to take her home and help her heal.
She has a long way to go, after all she’s been through. And I don’t have the whole story of what happened to her the last 31 days.
Not that I haven’t thought about kissing her. Not that I hadn’t spent many, many lonely nights fantasizing about losing myself in her. Taking her to my bed and claiming her. Burying everything I have in her. Giving her everything she needs.
But now, this woman I’ve been desperately searching for hugs me and clings to me. And now my desperation has shifted to a deeper level.
It tugged at my heart when Georgie started talking about pulling her weight. As if any of that matters to me. As if I don’t want anything other than to protect her and never let her see the inside of that terrible place again.
I knew when I brought her here that being intimate should be the last thing on my mind. I knew I would have to set boundaries and stick to them.
But her pretty, pouty lips kept talking about stupid things like cooking and cleaning.
She hypnotized me with the delicate sprinkle of freckles over her nose. The softness of her hips. The pretty cords of her throat that bob with emotion.
I am too swept up in everything about Georgie.
Her lips are soft and tentative at first. She responds with trembling breath and the stillness of someone who’s never been kissed.
I have to proceed gently with her.
I brush my lips over hers, letting her get used to this closeness. My hands move from her hips to her lower back, caressing the tight muscle there as I deepen the kiss slightly. I take her bottom lip between my lips. Tasting. Memorizing.
I know Georgie is aware of my erection pressing against her, just as I’m painfully aware of warm little tits pressed against my chest.
She pulls back for a moment.
“Jefferson?”
“What is it, Georgie?”
“I’ve never kissed anyone back before.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
Georgie needs to talk, so she’s gonna talk. “Go on.”
She inhales slowly. “One time, one of the boys kissed me. We were in middle school. We liked each other but dating wasn’t allowed. We were lining up for chapel, and when the teacher wasn’t looking, he pulled me into an empty classroom. It all happened so fast I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted him to kiss me.”
I nod for her to continue.
“We were caught when others in our class tattled on us to the teacher. Word got around, and I was punished with extra chores. The boy was threatened with shunning.”
Wait a minute. “Shunning?”
She nods. “They had a trial and everything. But they eventually let him stay. We were 14 years old. If he was 16, they would have shunned him for sure.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
She shrugs. “They just…leave.”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know. They never come back when that happens.”
“That’s a fucking crime, Georgie.”
She looks away. “The elders see young men and boys as competition. The more wives an elder has, the richer he’ll be in the afterlife. So if there was ever anyone who showed interest in a girl, they ran the risk of being cast out.”
I want to tell her how absolutely fucked up that all is, but I get the feeling she already knows that.
“I’m telling you this so you know why I’m so…weird.”
“You’re not weird…”
“That’s sweet of you to say. But if things…progress, and I seem immature for my age, that’s why.”
I angle her face and kiss her softly on the lips, then meet her clear-eyed gaze.
“So what you’re telling me is, you’re a virgin.”
“Shocking, I know.”
I honestly could not give less of a shit about that. I’m just happy she’s here, and she’s mine. But I’d be lying if I said some deep, dark part of me gets a small thrill that I get to be Georgie’s first. And last, if I have anything to say about it.
I kiss her again, longer. “Don’t be afraid to kiss me back if you feel like it.”
She leans in and meets my lips. She moves against me, and her touch is heaven. Lips brush as our hands wander. She softens under my grip. Her sweet scent fills my lungs. Finally, her lips open to me as her kiss grows and deepens.
My tongue slips inside Georgie’s mouth. She softly gasps, her body jerking, effectively rubbing against my rigid length.
I moan into her mouth, and she makes the sexiest little noise in return.
Every move and every moan from her makes me pulse painfully, my penis aching as it pushes against the zipper of my jeans.
My hands grip the front of her hoodie, “Too many layers between us.”
She quickly unzips and tosses the hoodie aside, then rests a hand on my chest. I work the buckle free from one of the straps of her denim bib overalls, and the front of it falls open at an angle. Underneath her overalls, she wears a shabby, long-sleeved white tee-shirt that’s loose over her frame. It’s ridden up on her torso, revealing her ribs.
I touch her bare skin there.
“Your hands are so warm,” she says.
I brush aside the material of her tee-shirt, revealing the thin cotton bra underneath. I drag my hand from her ribs upward, cupping her soft breast, running my thumb over her nipple.
“Oh…” The sight of her biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering closed, makes me want to lay her down under me and hike her legs over my shoulder. But I have to wait. I have to go slow.
“You’re so damn pretty, Georgie. You’re so pretty, you put the filthiest thoughts into my head.”
Blood rushes to my cock as she tilts forward, her body making more friction, tormenting my rigid length.
The pad of my thumb teases her tight nipple that’s visible through her bra.
She leans in again and kisses me with more confidence, her tongue taking its time. Exploring. Wanting.
Georgie tastes sweet like lemonade, and her feminine scent intensifies.
“What kind of filthy thoughts?” she asks breathlessly.
I press long, wet, hungry kisses along her throat, pausing briefly as I describe things to her, struggling not to get too graphic at first. She needs comfort and protection right now. She doesn’t need to jump into the deep end. Not yet.
“I think about getting all these layers off you…taking your pretty nipples in my mouth and touching your soft tits.”
“Oh,” she squeaks, her thighs squeezing me, urging me on.
“You like that?”
“Hmm, yes.”
Another long, wet kiss. Another teasing touch over her boob.
“I think about what you would look like under me. How you would look with your legs wrapped around me, taking me bare as I make you mine.”
Georgie kisses me with tongue, and with a sweet whimper that makes me ready to take her right here on the disgusting linoleum.
“I need to kiss you everywhere until my marks are all over you. So everyone knows you belong to me.”
“I want you, Jefferson.”
I hook my thumb into the flimsy bra and tug it downward until her gorgeous tit is exposed to me, letting me take her nipple into my mouth. Her skin is ridiculously soft as I suck and lick and tease. She writhes on top of me, moaning as her fingertips scrape over my shorn head.
I need those hands of hers everywhere.
Breathless, I pull away from her nipple, and she whines.
“You’re gonna make me completely lose control, sweetheart.”
Georgie’s eyes widen as she looks down at me. “Will you show me how? How to…touch it?”
I groan against her almost bare shoulder. “Why do you have to be so sweet?”
“Do you want me to be mean?”
Laughing, I say, “You grinding on it is mean enough. It’s torture.”
Georgie pulls back and reaches down between us. “I don’t like torture,” she says, reaching down and covering my crotch. “It’s a particular pet peeve of mine.”
I guide her eager hand slowly as she strokes me, working the meat of her palm slowly and firmly over the bulge in my jeans.
Sitting here with Georgie on top of me, my cock aching to be free, it’s all I can do to breathe.
“Am I going too fast for you?” Georgie asks.
“Baby, I’m afraid it might be the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“You…feel too good,” I say, fighting the urge to thrust. And I want to. I could, even with her sitting on top of me. I could make her fucking bounce on me and she wouldn’t have to do anything but hold on.
“Tell me what to do, Jefferson.”
My reply is a low, strangled groan. I’m lost in her kiss.
When she pulls back, she says, “Show me.”
“Soon. We should slow down.”
“Why? I want to show my gratitude, Jefferson.”
I press my forehead to hers and cup the back of her neck like I own her.
“No. You first.”
“Me first? What do you mean?”
It finally occurs to me, amid this wild fog of lust that’s taken over my brain, that perhaps she’s never experienced an orgasm before.
“Have you ever touched yourself, Georgie?”
She pulls away, and her brows come together. “Touched myself?”
“Did you ever find yourself thinking about someone late at night, alone in your bed?” I whisper against her throat. “And you couldn’t keep your hands from finding their way down between your legs to get some relief?”
I can’t decide if Georgie’s pink cheeks are a sign that she has done this before and felt ashamed of it, or if I’ve scandalized her.
Slowly, she shakes her head but doesn’t look away.
“Do you trust me?”
“Completely, Jefferson.”
With a whimper, she stops caressing my crotch and circles her arms around my shoulders.
She gasps, her mouth agape in response to the touch of my hand between her legs. “Oh…”
My hand delivers slow strokes, and I keep her mouth busy with my kiss.
“Is this good?” I grit out, fighting the urge to pop open the opposite strap of her overalls.
“Yes. Don’t stop.”
Cupping her pussy, I rub firmly over the front of it, finding just the right spot to make her gasp. To make her feel good enough to let go of what ails her.
“Oh my god, that feels good…”
My voice is an uncontrollable growl against her throat. “Is it making you wet, sweetheart?”
“Yes!”
I grind my palm harder over the material, barely believing she’s so sensitive that she’s enjoying this through her clothes.
Georgie shocks me when she comes with a loud cry, her thighs clenching, her back arching, her breast grazing my chin.
“That’s it…good girl…that’s my girl…come for me…I barely have to touch you to make you come.”
Her breath comes in short gasps as she rides out her first climax, eventually softening once more and collapsing in my arms.
“Oh…my…god.”
“How do you feel?”
She sighs. “That was…you were…”
All I can do is give a satisfied hum, inhaling the scent at the base of her neck.
We both freeze at the sound of gravel in the alleyway, followed by the chirp of a car’s automatic locks being activated.
“Shit,” I hiss as a pair of monstrous feet bound up the rickety back stairs.
Georgie slides off my lap, and I scramble to help her adjust her bra, shirt, and the strap of her overalls.
Two seconds later, Joaquin bursts through the door with three paper bags.
I recognize the logo on the front as that of the new Chinese place in town.
“What are you doing with all that food?” I ask.
Joaquin stops and stares at the overturned table, then looks at Georgie. He turns to me with an arched eyebrow.
I right the table, and Joaquin plops the bags down one by one. “You didn’t answer my text, so I got a variety. Kung pao, sweet and sour soup, orange chicken, beef and broccoli.”
When I look past him, I find Georgie in the corner, still fixing her strap, looking red as a tomato.
Meanwhile, her eyes are trained on the bags of food, and she looks like a prisoner of war who hasn’t eaten in three days.
I scrub a hand over my hair. “I’m an idiot. I should’ve ordered food.”
“It’s not your fault you weren’t raised right,” Joaquin jokes, then turns to Georgie and extends his hand. “Time for a proper introduction. I’m Joaquin. Welcome to the dump. You can stay as long as you like sleeping in a closet.”
Georgie shakes his hand and looks like she can’t tell if someone’s joking. I pick up a takeout box and hold it out to her. “Egg roll?”
She comes over and sits down on my lap again and takes one of the egg rolls out of the box.
“We can switch sleeping arrangements around,” I assure her.
Joaquin grabs chopsticks from the bag and starts eating the beef and broccoli right out of the box as he leans against the kitchen counter. “No can do, brother. Remember, I just rented out the second bedroom upstairs, and they’re paying me government contractor prices. I’m not switching up anything.”
I give him a stern look. “Then Georgie can stay in your room, and you can sleep on the magic sofa until we figure things out.”
He starts to protest, but Georgie cuts in. “No, I wouldn’t want to put you out, Joaquin. Thank you. I’ll be fine on the sofa.”
Joaquin shakes his head. “It’s in an office full of sensitive information. No way.”
I look at Georgie and tell her, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
Joaquin and I take guesses about the new renter, who hasn’t shown their face yet. Georgie doesn’t seem interested in anything but food, putting away two egg rolls and half of the sweet and sour chicken.
After dinner, she insists on tidying up. Joaquin watches her, marveling. “Keep that up and maybe I’ll build an addition on the house so you can stay forever,” he jokes.
I snap irrationally. “She’s not here to be your maid.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Take a chill pill. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Georgie turns from washing up in the sink, “I didn’t take offense.”
“I like her,” Joaquin says. “Hey, Georgie. Maybe you can teach Jefferson some pointers on how not to be so sensitive.”
“They really should never have taught apes human speech,” I say.
This joke goes right over Georgie’s head. “Honestly, I’m just happy to have hot water,” she says, smiling as she wipes her hands on a towel she found in a drawer.
Joaquin shrugs. “It’s not the biggest water heater, but it’s enough for a hot shower. As long as you don’t spend too much time in there thinking about your personal life, if you know what I mean,” he says with a wink in my direction.
Before I have a chance to feel mortified at Joaquin talking about his assumptions that I jerk off in a community shower—which I don’t—Georgie pipes up. “Oh really? I haven’t had a hot shower in weeks!”
Both Joaquin and I stare at her. I want to ask her again what the hell they did to her.
Joaquin rubs his hands together. “On that note, I’ve got work to do. You two enjoy.”
“Oh, I’m not…we’re not gonna…” I start.
Joaquin turns, heads out of the kitchen, and lumbers through the short hallway. “I’ll be in the office. With the door firmly closed.”
“Joaquin.”
“Have fun.” He closes the door that separates the office from the rest of the house, and I hear the lock click into place, followed by the deadbolt.
“It’s not like I don’t have keys if I wanted to get in there,” I shout after him. But why would I bother with going into the office when Georgie’s here?
I glance at Georgie, who’s smiling shyly and watching me expectantly.
Denying the desperate ache in my pants that hasn’t gotten any less desperate since Joaquin’s arrival, I motion down the hallway. “This way to the shower.”