Chapter Seventeen
Georgie
I cleared my throat. "What?"
"Stay."
I wanted to ask him why, but it was truly impolite to hold up the line for any longer.
"Okay," I replied, taking a step back.
It had been a very thinly veiled command, but it also felt like a plea. How both things could be true at the same time, I had no clue.
The more I thought about it, the jitterier I became. To give myself something to do, I went to the buffet and poured myself a glass of champagne. Sometime in the past few hours, the waiters stopped circulating with trays. Instead, they'd put big buckets with ice on the buffet table. I took a large sip, and the bubbles did the job. I relaxed instantly.
Now that the room was emptier, I could take a good look at the decor. My God, it was exquisite. Very old money. Not quite historic, but classic. As a lover of old things, I was fascinated by the couches and the cushions. They seemed right out of a French museum.
I sat in an armchair, glancing outside. It was dark, of course, so I couldn't see much past the lights of the buildings on the opposite side of the boulevard. But for some reason, this soothed me.
After emptying my glass, I put it on a nearby table. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head on the backrest.
Oh, this is so comfortable. Not quite as perfect as my nana's armchair, but it was a very close second. I could snuggle up right here and sleep.
"Georgie," Julian whispered. "Georgie. Wake up."
I opened my eyes. "Holy shit. I fell asleep?" I immediately straightened up and then jumped out of the armchair. The room was completely empty.
Julian smiled at me.
"Everyone else is already gone?"
"Yep. The crew as well."
My body temperature instantly heightened. We were alone.
"Let me take off your mask."
"I can take it off myself," I said quickly, then reached behind my head, pulling at the bow. I must have pulled it wrong, though, because I only managed to fasten it tighter.
He grinned, then twirled his finger for me to turn around.
What choice did I have?
I felt him come up behind me, and his fingers fumbled in my hair. He tugged at the other end of the bow, but it wouldn't budge.
"This isn't going to work. I'll just cut it."
"Just pull it over my head."
"Some of your hair is stuck in it, and I don't want to hurt you."
"Okay."
Julian walked away, and I didn't dare move, for some reason. I was rooted to the spot, drawing in deep breaths.
He returned far quicker than I expected and immediately cut through the fastening at the back. He removed it carefully, still tugging a bit of my hair, but that was quite all right.
"You're free!" he exclaimed after a moment.
I turned around. "Thanks for... well, for everything tonight. It was a fantastic party."
His voice lowered. "Georgie. Why aren't you looking at me?"
I hadn't even realized I'd been averting my gaze, fixating on the streetlight outside like it was the most interesting thing happening at the moment.
"I'm just tired, I guess."
He touched my jaw lightly. I sucked in a deep breath. Ever so slowly, he nudged my chin, turning my head, meeting me halfway.
Leaning toward me, he said, "That's not it and you know it. What's wrong? Did I do something to upset you?"
Part of me couldn't believe he was actually asking that, as if he was a caring boyfriend. Not that I had a lot of experience with that, but still.
"It's been a long evening. Why did you want me to stay?" That's it, shift the focus.
"I did promise to take you dancing after the party.”
“Oh, I completely forgot. But it’s so late...”
“I know. That’s not really why I asked you to stay. I wanted to clear things up. You've been avoiding me—you can't deny it."
I bit the inside of my cheek. I could just tell him. He wouldn't make a scene or berate me, I was sure of it.
"Today has been... confusing," I admitted. "One moment you were dancing with me, and the next you were saying it was all for show."
Julian looked at me intently for quite a long time. He glanced at my lips before making eye contact again. His hand was still at my jaw.
"It wasn't for show. None of it."
Aaaaaaaaaaand I could hear angels singing. My heart nearly burst out of my chest with joy. I’d gone from feeling moody to exhilarated in a fraction of a second.
"None of it?" I whispered.
"No."
"But then you said there were others here, that the foot massage was part of your ‘fake boyfriend package.’”
He tilted closer. "I needed an excuse."
"For what?"
"For being close to you, touching you...”
"Julian," I whispered.
"I asked you here because I needed to see you.”
"I thought it was because some of your guests would expect your girlfriend to—"
“It was all a damn ruse. I've wanted you since you showed up at my bar in your sparkling dress."
His words just wrapped around my heart, then traveled down below.
“That first kiss wasn’t just because that moron was watching,” he continued. “It was instinct, and I followed it.”
"Do you regret it?"
"Hell no."
"Neither do I."
He kissed me, and I opened up without any restraint, without overthinking. For the first time, I wasn’t questioning why this was happening. And my God, it made such a difference. I felt everything much more intensely: his passion, his unbridled need to explore me.
He pulled my lower lip into his mouth, then licked the upper one. I instantly became wet. Then he kissed me again, and our tongues moved wildly. His hands were on my body, one over my ass, the other one at my hip, moving lower until his fingers brushed the hem of my dress and then my bare skin. A current of awareness traveled through me. He groaned against my mouth, and then he pushed my dress farther up. I grew even needier. Every cell in my body clamored for more of his touch. When he revealed my panties, he stopped touching me. I moaned, rolling my hips, trying to get him back.
Then I felt two of his fingers slip inside my panties, brushing my bare skin and my clit. I nearly broke out of my skin. The current of pleasure rocking me was so strong that my knees trembled.
"Fuck, Georgie, you're already so wet for me."
I dropped my head back, enjoying feeling his fingers on my body, touching me intimately, pleasuring me. He was moving them slowly up and down.
"Georgie, do you want to stay here with me tonight?" His voice was trembling lightly.
I knew what he was asking. "Yes, I want to be here with you. I want you, Julian, so damn badly. Please, just please..."