19. Georgia
Chapter nineteen
Georgia
“Y ou’ve been quiet today.”
I glance over at Noah as we drive home from work. “Just tired. You snore.”
“Do not.” He nudges my shoulder. “You wanna talk about it?”
Sure, let me start by saying your dad is spectacular in bed, but his bedside manner sucks since he called me a child and yelled at me like one .
“Not really, but thanks. Just gonna go to bed early tonight.”
He nods, not believing me, but thankfully, he doesn’t push. We get home, and I head up to my room and take a long shower. There’s a knock on my door, and Noah peeks his head in. “Hey, I’m going to grab drinks with the guys. Wanna join?”
“I’m good, but thanks.”
“Sure thing. I’ll catch ya later.” He shuts my door, and minutes later, his car roars to life. I slip into a comfy pair of pajamas and nestle in my bed. My phone vibrates against the nightstand, and I ignore it, dreading another text from Jackson. I’ve always been strong-willed. Bullheaded, as my dad would have said. It takes a lot to hurt me. And his words today had left a mark. I’m a child to him. Hello!! He’s nearly twice your age! Ugh! I’m so mad at him. But I’m even more mad at myself. I let my guard down and let him in. I’ve been denying it, but somewhere along the way, I fell for him. It’s not just about sex for me, and it hasn’t been for a while.
His last text hit me in a way I didn’t see coming. He missed me?
Someone who only cares about the physical wouldn’t say that… right? Or am I just fooling myself?
Maybe he’s crossed lines too. Maybe this isn’t as black and white as I thought. But I’d be delusional to believe this could ever be something. That was made clear from the start. No emotions. No expectations. I knew the rules, and I accepted them without hesitation.
Back then, I was rational. Levelheaded.
Now, I feel like I’m spiraling, grasping at something I was never meant to hold.
My phone rings, and I hold my breath as I glance at the screen. Relief floods through me, my shoulders easing as I exhale. “Hey, Lettie.”
“Hey, stranger. You forget about me or what?”
“Never.” I roll onto my back. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Nothing to worry about on my end…”
I can tell in her voice something’s wrong. “Lettie, spit it out. I know you. Did something—”
“You need to talk to Mom.”
I roll my eyes, drawing in a deep sigh. “I have nothing to say to her.”
“I know, but things could be different if you just talked to her. I know you’re upset. But she’s your mom. She loves you and just wants to make things right.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“It will be if you don’t speak with her.”
“What? Why? Why would it be too late?” A knock sounds on my door, and my eyes dart to it. A beat later, Jackson stands in my doorway. “Hey, I’ve gotta call you back.”
“Call Mom!” she yells as I hit end.
“Hey,” he says, walking into my room.
“Hey,” I reply, sitting up.
He sits on the bed, resting his hand on my thigh. “I know you’re mad. You should be. I was out of line today.”
“Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way—”
“Georgia, cut me some slack. You caught me at a very bad time. A lot of shit is happening, and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I said shitty things out of anger over something that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“But it comes from somewhere. I get it. The age difference. You see me as a child—”
“I don’t.”
“Then why would you—”
He moves his hands to cup my face. “Georgia,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on mine. “You’re more mature than half the women I know. You’re talented and sharp, and you carry yourself with a sophistication that makes it easy to forget your age. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were twenty years older.” His thumbs brush over my skin, and something flickers in his eyes—something conflicted, restrained.
“I don’t see you as a child. Not in the slightest. And yeah, I think about our age gap— fuck, more than I should. That’s exactly why I have to keep my distance. Because of who you are. Because you make it so damn hard to stay away.”
“Because of Noah.”
He nods, and even though this is not news to me, my heart cracks. “This will break him if he finds out.”
The crack spreads. “So, what are you saying?”
“I don’t know. That we should end things for the sake of not hurting Noah. That we should selfishly continue to indulge in this insane passion. I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I do know I fucking want you. I need you. But at what cost?”
He wipes at the tear that runs down my cheek and leans in, gently pressing his lips to mine. The move is strange. Kissing isn’t our thing. I assumed it was because it’s such an intimate act and allows us to stay on the right side of our emotions. But his lips pressing against mine feels right. My palms skate up his chest to wrap around his neck. He pulls me to him until I’m in his lap. I hold him closer, adding more pressure. He breaches the seam of my lips, his tongue gliding along mine. We’ve had explosive sex. The orgasms are so intense I’ve lost feeling in my legs. But this kiss—it carries the most weight, the deepest pull. “Say you forgive me,” he murmurs against my lips. I squeeze tighter, adjusting my legs to straddle him, my hips grinding over his erection. “Fuck, Peach.” His hands cup my ass, and he tugs me forward, creating more friction.
I can’t get enough of his lips. The taste of coffee and mint. “I forgive you,” I whisper, and he deepens our kiss. This is my endgame. I grind back and forth on his thick length, my hands ruthless as I tug at his belt and zipper. With superhuman strength, he has me out of my pajama shorts and panties, the urgency for us to be connected too strong. Pulling his cock free from the opening of his slacks, he enters me in a manic thrust.
Our moans mingle as he raises me up and down his shaft, working me into a frenzy. Emotions run too high, too fast. Our orgasms take over, and I cry out against his lips as he comes inside me.
It takes a minute before either of us can speak. My heart bangs against his chest, and his echoes back.
“A little too late to ask where Noah is?”
I chuckle against his lips. “Went out with friends.”
“Good. Because fucking you with the door open was mighty careless.” He kisses me and bites my bottom lip. “You hungry?”
I waggle my brows. “I’m always hungry, but don’t you need a minute? Ya know, ’cause you’re old.”
He slaps my ass. “Watch it. I mean actual food. I heard you skipped lunch.” My stomach growls in response as if on cue. “There’s my answer. Shower, then I’m feeding you.”
“Can I pick what we eat?”
“Anything you want. But I get to pick dessert.”
Fuck, I think I’m in love with this man. “Deal.”
Something bangs outside my window, jolting me awake. I blink away my grogginess and look at the time. It’s well past one in the morning. “What the hell?” I climb out of bed and look out the window. A group of guys hang around the pool. Noah’s on the diving board, beating his fists against his chest. He yells something, then dives headfirst into the water.
Slipping on a pair of shorts and a top, I head downstairs. When I walk outside, loud music assaults me. I search for Noah, finding him climbing out of the pool, and move toward him. “Hey, it’s kind of late. And you have to work in the morning.”
Noah’s eyes are bloodshot. He reeks of booze, and I assume he’s high off his ass. “Georgie!” he hollers, wrapping his arm around me, soaking my pajamas. “I’ve missed you.” He presses his lips to my head and then behind my ear. When he tries to capture my lips, I push away from him. “The fuck is your problem?”
“You—you’re drunk.”
“And? If I remember right, that’s exactly how you like me.” He comes at me again, claiming my waist and pulling me into him. He tries to kiss me again, but I stomp on his foot, forcing him to release me. “Fuck— bitch .”
“You should go to bed. You’re going to regret this in the morning.”
“The only thing I regret is you. Why don’t you be a good little girl and go back to bed? Prude ass bitch.” His friends laugh, and he joins in. “What? Get the fuck outta here.”
I debate punching him in his nose, but I refuse to let him see the way he’s hurt me. “Fuck you, Noah.” I turn around and storm toward the house.
“Wish I could, George. Always loved sliding into your tight cunt.”
I shut myself back inside, silencing the commotion with the snick of the door. I walk through the kitchen when a shadow appears from the hallway. “Look who we have here…” A hand reaches out, and I gasp.
Vince.
His friend from the other day. He seems to be in the same shape as Noah.
“Let me go.”
“Awww, come on. Don’t be like that.”
I push at his chest to get him to release me, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. “I said let me go.”
“Baby, begging only teases me. Why don’t you say please?”
“Fuck you! Let me go!” I struggle to break free from his hold. “I will scream and wake up Noah’s dad if you don’t let me go right the fuck now.”
“Not before I get a taste of what’s mine. Remember—Noah and I share everything.” He leans in, his tongue dragging along my cheek. My disgust and rage ignite, and I lose it, shoving at him, thrashing to break free. When he finally releases me, I trip backward and fall on my ass. “You should be more appreciative, bitch. When I want something, I get it, and you’ll wish you were nicer when I do.” His laughter churns my stomach as I fight to catch my breath. My heart slams in my chest, and I clench my jaw, determined not to cry.
The moment I hear the door shut, I scramble to my feet and bolt up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me and twisting the lock. My heart pounds as I press my back against the wood. For a moment, I consider waking Jackson and telling him everything, but that would only pour fuel on the fire. His temper isn’t something to provoke, and the last thing I need is more chaos.
Still shaking, I climb into bed, curling into myself beneath the blankets. My arms wrap tightly around my chest as I force myself to breathe— in, out, in, out —counting each breath until my lungs start to slow. It takes a while for the tension to fade. Once it does, exhaustion wins, and sleep pulls me under.