Chapter 14 - Georgie
I’ve had my head buried in textbooks for over two hours, and I’m hyper-focused on the research I’m doing.
Standing between two high bookshelves, I prop up the massive textbook in one hand while I page through it with the other, searching for a reference to the theory I’m trying to support in my article.
It contradicts the norm, so I know when I present this paper, it has to be thorough. More than thorough. It has to blow my professor’s mind.
I squint at the fine print text, realizing how long I’ve been here and how tired my eyes are. Maybe I should call the security guard and ask him to come fetch me. I can finish the rest of my research at home, online.
I’ll photocopy a few pages and summarize them this evening.
I close the massive book and carry it towards the back room in the library.
It’s a small office for photocopying and scanning documents.
People hardly use it; mostly, we just take photos on our phones and convert the image to text and read it like that.
But this text is so fine, I’d rather just make a few copies from the chapter I need.
Then I can highlight and make notes on the page.
I’m alone in the copy room, humming quietly to myself as I press the book against the glass and press the big green button. The machine bubbles to life, and a bright light scans beneath the page.
One done. I lift the book and turn to the next page, and repeat the process.
Suddenly, there are hands around my waist, tugging me backwards.
I yelp in fright, but a massive hand clamps over my mouth. My heart is racing like wild horses until I hear his low, velvet chuckle.
“I didn’t mean to give you a fright. I’m so sorry,” he laughs under his breath, removing his hand from my face. “I didn’t know you were so focused.”
I spin around and punch him in the chest. “Oh my word. I can’t believe you did that,” I whisper harshly.
Secretly, I’m thrilled to see him. I’ve been thinking about him since I saw him this morning, after he…he was such a dick. Ugh. No, I don’t want to see him now. I’m still angry with him.
I turn my back on him, huffing and giving him attitude as I open the book to turn to the next page.
“You need to go. I’m busy,” I whisper, keeping my voice low even though we’re not technically in the library section, and I highly doubt anyone would be able to hear me from here anyway.
“I came to check on you…”
“I don’t need checking on. You should go.”
“…and to apologize,” he says quietly.
I tilt my head to the side, surprised. I turn to face him. “For what?” I ask cautiously. I’ve learned not to assume anything.
“For what happened this morning.”
“Okay?” I say, waiting for more details. I told my arms across my chest and gave him my best unimpressed look. I hated how he made me feel this morning. I’m already on edge with my emotions towards him not being reciprocated, and then he was still so mean on top of that.
“You stood up for me. You backed me, and I was incredibly harsh to you afterwards. I was a complete asshole, actually. And I’m truly sorry for the way I spoke to you, Georgie.
It was out of line and rude.” He gently brushes his hands over my arms, and my body eases, letting go of the tension I was holding on to.
My anger fades completely. I don’t think anyone has given me such a heartfelt apology before.
“Oh,” I mutter in shock. I wasn’t expecting such a genuine apology. I didn’t expect to see so much regret and guilt in his eyes when I looked into them.
“You have every right to be angry at me. No one should speak to you like that. Ever. Especially not me,” he says sternly.
“The thing was…my father. His ego is through the roof, and if anyone challenges him, they draw his attention, and he immediately wants revenge. Even for a little thing like a minor disagreement. The last thing I want is for you to be in his crosshairs, for his attention to be on you. I got…scared. That’s the truth.
I got scared for your safety. The thought of him trying to take you again, or of any harm coming to you…
it made me lash out, but I was lashing out at the wrong person.
You stood up for me. The person I was really angry at was my father. ”
His voice is tight, heavy with remorse, tugging at my heart.
I have a deep need to comfort him, to let him know it’s all alright.
I reach up and touch his face, pulling his eyes to me.
“I appreciate your apology, Kris. And I appreciate you being so honest with me about why it happened.” I smile.
My heart warms at the sight of him; his sincerity is intense.
He takes a step closer to me, and my fingers feel hot against his face.
“So you forgive me?” he asks, his voice husky and low, a hint of darkness laced in his tone.
“I do.” I can’t hide my grin; my skin is on fire, my body yearning for him.
He slips his hand around my waist and takes another step closer to me. My back presses against the copy machine, and his body locks me in place.
I can feel him.
His muscles, his warmth. The heat emanating from him, soaking into me, and the scent of his skin.
His breathing picks up, and mine grows faster, my mind racing as I tilt my chin up towards his face.
He’s definitely going to kiss me. I’m not wrong about this. I’m not reading him wrong.
Kris slowly brushes his hand up my waist, over the side of my body, and cups it around the back of my neck. Our eyes lock, and I can’t look away from him.
My lips part, and a soft, desperate gasp slips from them.
In a flash, his mouth is on mine.
For a second, I think I’m imagining it, that instead, he’s pulled away, but a thousand fireworks are going off inside my chest as excitement steals my self-control.
I knot my fingers behind his neck and pull hard against him, deepening the kiss. He growls against my lips, and his fingers dig into my skin.
His hands roam over my body as he pushes his tongue into my mouth. I moan sweetly.
Kristopher’s hands slip beneath my ass, lifting me onto the copy machine. He tugs at my skirt, pulling it higher. The kiss becomes frantic, and one of us bumps the button, and warm light slips beneath the glass I’m sitting on, taking a copy of my ass.
Neither of us reacts; we’re too caught up in the moment.
He pushes my legs apart and slides his hands up the inside of my thighs. I’m high on his taste, wild for him, desperate to have every piece of him, to know what it’s like to be with him.
His fingers press against my pussy, and the heat between my legs grows more urgent. I spread them wider, encouraging him.
He hooks his fingers beneath my panties and tugs them aside, then slides a finger slowly into me.
I gasp in pleasure, overwhelmed by the intensity of this feeling.
He pushes his finger deeper and curls it against my front wall, slowly massaging me from the inside.
My head is spinning as I rock my hips forward against his touch.
I want him. I want to be with him, but this isn’t the right place, not for my first time. But I don’t want to stop. Inside me, two voices are arguing. Who cares where you are? And do this at home instead.
When Kristopher tugs his belt open, I realize that unless I say something, this is going to happen right here, in the copy room.
“Wait,” I gasp, regretting it instantly when he steps away from me, pulling his hand away, too.
“What is it?” he asks, tense.
“I…this is my first time,” I say, choosing to be direct about it.
“You’re a virgin?” he says in shock, too loudly.
“Shhh,” I hiss, horrified that someone might hear.
“Georgie, I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He takes another step away from me, but I can’t bear it. I can’t bear the thought of him stopping again.
“No,” I blurt out in horror. “I don’t want to stop…I…” I don’t know what I want. I want my first time to be special, but I finally got to feel his touch, and I don’t want that to come to an end. I’m desperate for him.
He chuckles, that low, delicious sound that rumbles through me like thunder. Cocking his head to the side, his bright gray eyes wander over my face, studying me as though I’ve captivated him.
“Don’t worry, little one. We don’t have to go all the way,” he growls against my ear, stepping close to me again and pushing my legs apart.
He pulls my panties to the side and slides his fingers into me as his mouth finds mine.
The kiss, the way he pushes his tongue into my mouth, mimics the way he pushes his fingers into my pussy.
A delicate, gentle dance, exploring, feeling, sensing.
With one finger inside me, he uses the other to massage slow, teasing circles over my clit. My pussy swells against his touch, flooded with desire and the need for more. I want more.
The pleasure increases with each stroke of his hand.
Each movement has me shivering in his arms.
His lips are like fire against mine. His taste is a drug, and I can’t get enough.
Kristopher begins to move his hand faster, methodically stroking me, teasing and building the sensations flowing through me.
I moan against his lips, and it encourages him. It turns him on and has his hand pressing harder against me.
He growls, sexy and low, rubbing his fingers faster and faster over my clit.
My head begins to spin as the ecstasy of his touch becomes all I can focus on. The only things that exist are his hands on me. His lips on mine, his body pressing close to me. All I am aware of is him. Nothing else matters.
The orgasm hits me like a lightning strike. It shoots through my body, again and again, like an electric current, tensing my muscles, pulling and pushing.
I can barely breathe when it’s over, and I let out a heavy, charged breath.
Kristopher slowly slides his fingers out of me, and with a dark smile, he dips them into his mouth.
“Mm. Fuck. You taste incredible,” he whispers.
My body sparks again, already wanting more. I want all of him. I want him to take me fully.
Kristopher kisses me again, and I taste myself on his lips. It’s erotic, unexpected.
He steps back and lets me slide off the copy machine, then starts laughing, unable to keep the volume low.
“What?” I hiss, glancing nervously at the door. “What’s so funny?”
He leans past me and collects the fresh photocopy from the tray, holding it up so I can see. A perfect print of my ass pressed against the glass of the machine.
I start giggling, too, and he folds the page and shoves it into his pocket.
“This is a memory I want to keep,” he smirks.
“Please, throw that away, shred it,” I say, embarrassed.
“Not a chance. I’m going to frame it for my bedroom wall.”
We laugh, my cheeks flushed pink as I straighten my clothes. But then Kristopher steps back and folds his arms across his chest, and the air in the small room shifts slightly.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my stomach tensing with nerves, noticing the frown furrowing his brow.
“Why did you tell me you’ve never done that before. I know you’ve been on other dates,” he says, the tone of his voice suggesting that it’s not just an assumption, but actual knowledge of me going on dates.
Did Jess tell him I went on dates? Why would she talk to her brother about that kind of stuff?
“Just because I went on dates doesn’t mean I was intimate with the guys,” I say defensively.
“Why not?” he demands, and my tension rises again.
“Because,” I huff.
Because none of them were you. None of them ever stood a chance.
“Because?” he pushes.
“It just didn’t feel right, so, if they tried to kiss me or ask for a second date…I just said no. Okay?” I glare at him, hoping that the look in my eyes leaves no room for negotiation.
One corner of his lip curls upwards. He looks satisfied with my response. In fact, he looks rather pleased with it.
I narrow my eyes, trying to work out what this means to him. Imagine if he knew the truth. That he’s the reason they didn’t feel right.
I press my lips together and turn to gather the photocopies I took, the ones I need for my notes.
“I just need to copy two more pages,” I remark, turning my back on him.
“Go ahead. I’ll wait. What are you in the mood for for dinner? I was thinking we should stop and grab a pizza on the way home.”
“Won’t that offend Jeremey? I’m sure he’s already made something.”
Kristopher chuckles. “Little one, you are the queen of that castle. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. If you feel like pizza, nothing else matters.”
“I’m not the one who feels like pizza. You are,” I tease him.
“What do you feel like?” he asks, stepping close to me as I gather the book and my copies, my task finished.
I tilt my head to the side, pretending to consider his question.
“Mm. I think…I feel like…pizza,” I say with a wide grin.
He chuckles. “Of course, you do. How silly of me. I should have known.” He slips his arm around my waist and leads me from the copy room.