Fix Her Up Page 22

  “If this went according to the plan, I would be wearing a slinky off-the-shoulder number and serving a signature cocktail, so . . . out with the bathwater, okay?”

  Only this human being could make him laugh when his balls were on the verge of mutiny. One second, laughter kindled in his throat, and the next, it was tight. Just tight. Because flushed and looking up at him with her bright green eyes, Georgette Castle was the most beautiful thing on the planet. He wanted to give her pleasure. Wanted to protect her. And fuck the consequences, he wanted to turn himself into her addiction. Next time he walked through the front door of this house, she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off him. Or her sexy mouth. No more hesitations.

  “Slinky off-the-shoulder number, huh?” Travis murmured, going in for a kiss, but detouring down the center of her body, before they could connect. While sliding lower on the couch, he dragged his open mouth down the front of her T-shirt and drew up the hem. “Maybe next time. Right now, I want you bare.”

  Georgie’s stomach shuddered under his regard. “Oh, I’m pretty close to—”

  “Where are your panties?” The last word of Travis’s question came out as a growl, thanks to the smooth, delicious-looking pussy now level with his mouth. When he’d had his hips wedged between Georgie’s thighs, there’d been a layer of T-shirt between them, so he didn’t know she’d been going commando. No getting past it now, though. Or the distinct shade of pink along the center crease—a crease his tongue wanted to slide apart in a long lick. “Forget I asked. You should never keep this covered when it’s just you and me. Ask me why.”

  She gave an audible swallow. “Why?”

  Travis lowered his mouth, planting a firm kiss on the split of her sex. “Because if I’m not licking it, I’m going to be figuring out a way to spread your thighs so I can.” He used his fingers to separate her flesh, then greeted what he’d uncovered, rubbing her with the flat of his tongue. Goddamn, so sweet. So fucking sweet. “The wet tells me that’s exactly what you want, Georgie.”

  “Please.” She seemed almost embarrassed by the lift of her hips, as if she wanted to play it cool but her body wouldn’t allow it. “Please.”

  “I like the word ‘please.’” He twisted his middle finger into her opening, his head dropping forward with a curse at the reminder she was so damn tight. “‘More.’ ‘Harder.’ ‘Faster.’ ‘Deeper.’ Those work, too.”

  Georgie’s eyes rolled back in her head, her thighs falling open a couple inches. So trusting for a virgin. Because she trusted him?

  Yeah, he thought so. Needed it more than was wise.

  Travis eased his middle finger in and out of Georgie’s opening, watching his handiwork up close. The way her inner thighs trembled, her belly hollowing. The way her clit became more prominent, as if requesting his tongue. Tempting it. Starved for the full experience of her scent, her texture, her taste, Travis had no choice but to bring his mouth lower, tucking a tongue alongside his finger in her entrance, listening to her breathing go shallow, before drawing it back out. Sliding it higher. With his finger driving in and out—faster now—preparing her, the sexy sounds of her growing slickness making his mouth work harder, his tongue curling around her clit. Absorbing her shiver.

  “Travis.”

  “Tell me if you’re going to—”

  “How do I know? This isn’t h-how it feels when I . . .”

  He pushed his finger deep and jiggled it against her G-spot, giving a pained smile when she cried out, her hips jerking on the couch. “You’ll know.”

  Georgie’s back arched. “Oh . . . I think?” Her fingernails clawed at his shoulders. “Maybe now. Yeah. Now.”

  Beating back the reluctance, Travis took his tongue away and found the condom he’d left beside the couch. He quickly covered himself in stretched latex and prowled up her body, quieting her requests to hurry with a hard kiss. “Next time, I’ll let you come all over my mouth, baby girl,” he said, words muffled by her lips. “I’ll lick it up like ice cream. But this first time you’re going to go off while I’m sunk so deep in that pussy it never forgets who broke it in.”

  He didn’t mean to give such a vicious first thrust, but there was no help for it. No option to go slow when his dominant position above Georgie turned her flushed and panting. A corresponding part of Travis recognized what she wanted—needed—and his body gave it in no uncertain terms. That first drive of his cock drew a scream from her throat, but it wasn’t made up entirely of pain. It was relief. He could actually feel her relief at being filled. Knowing Georgie had lived with an unfilled need made him wild to fill it. To blow those expectations out of the water.

  “Again,” she whispered into his shoulder, her eyes unfocused. “Don’t stop.”

  Travis reared back and bucked, the possessive streak she’d brought to his life buzzing and snapping to run free. “Look at me while I’m teaching you how to fuck.”

  “Yes,” she sobbed, shifting underneath him, making him grind his teeth. “Please.”

  I want to own her. Make her say his name in that breathless way until he heard it in his sleep. It was an urge that rippled through Travis’s muscles, rife with hunger so thick he couldn’t saw through it. He’d just taken her virginity, and the responsibility of that made him want more. More. She felt better than anything he could ever imagine on his own. Hot and tight and needy, but her eyes looked up at him . . . and knew him. Nothing better in the fucking world. God, there was nothing that compared.

  When Georgie made a choked sound, Travis realized his hips were bearing down hard, circling, grinding into her pussy. Making his mark. Her eyes left his, ticking down to where their bodies joined, and she bit her lip, some of the fever clearing from her expression. Here was proof that Georgie had gotten under his skin—into his head—because he could sense her thoughts changing direction.

  “Hey.” He dropped forward and captured her mouth in a seeking kiss. “Talk.”

  She shook her head, her words emerging choppy. “No, it feels so good . . .”

  Another kiss. Another longer one with tongue. “And?”

  Travis reversed the circle of his hips and a shudder passed through her. “I guess . . . I’m worried about whether it’s feeling this good for you, too.”

  This girl who’d shown up and shouted him back into existence, brought him leftovers and bravely poked his sore spots? He had her number. She was a giver in all things. Right now, he had to convince her to take. He needed to be the giver. For her. Just . . . her. “I’ve never had my head in this before, Georgie. I’m usually a million miles away.” Heart rapping against his ribs, he skated his open lips over her temple. “I’m right here. I can feel every fucking squeeze of your pussy and breath out of your mouth. Feels so good, I’m already trying to figure out how to get back inside you again. You’re worried it doesn’t feel good? I’m trying not to bust too early like a chump.”

  If eyes could actually take the shape of hearts, Georgie’s probably would have in that moment. Her palms cupped his face and he leaned into her, letting her sigh wash over his face. “Really?”

  “Yes. Christ, the things I’m going to do to you . . .” He pressed his face into the crook of her neck and pumped his hips harder, groaning over the perfect give of soft, wet flesh between Georgie’s thighs. “No more worrying about me. When I do something you love, tell me.”

  Her fingernails grazed his back lightly on the way down to his ass, which she gripped hesitantly, then with more confidence. “I love when you teach me.”

  Travis held his breath as heat threatened to erupt from his balls. Fuck. Fuck. He hadn’t beat off enough thinking about Georgie lately to last even a good half hour? Fight it back. Make it perfect for her. “You’re not hurting?”

  One breath against his neck. Two. “I don’t mind it. I think I . . . like it.”

  Travis’s hips were rolling harder and harder of their own volition at this point, his hunger strengthening with every smack of flesh, every whimper from Georgie. Jesus, she w
as sweet between the legs, so snug and hot. He’d never wanted this bad. Never felt wanted this much. A tightening started at the back of his neck and continued down his spine, curling at the base. Get her there. “You want me to teach you how to get off with my cock?”

  Her eyelids fluttered, the muscles of her pussy contracting. “Yes.”

  He nipped at her mouth. “Use your fingers. Go find that little clit I licked so right.” Breath coming faster, Georgie did as he asked, fingers wedging in between their hips, farther and farther until she gasped. “Good girl. Use your fingers to keep it from hiding. We want my cock to rub it all over, don’t we?”

  Georgie’s nod was vigorous, her legs restless on either side of his body. “Yes, please. Rubbing.”

  Travis slid his forearm beneath Georgie’s neck to anchor himself, loosely locking their lips together. “Tell me when I’m hitting it good, baby girl,” he rasped, flicking their tongues together. “You want to learn, you open your thighs and let your man grind. Let me swell that pretty clit up good.”

  Using her fingers for guidance, Travis rode up the slippery pathway of Georgie’s pussy, putting easy pressure on her clit, twisting his hips—then starting again. The first few times he performed the movement, Georgie’s eyes went blind, the breath seizing in her throat, but it came out in a sobbing rush now, urging Travis to go faster, twist harder, his every movement bringing the base of his cock into hot, damp, desperate contact with her clit.

  “Fuck, Georgie,” he growled. “Open your thighs for more. You’re getting more.”

  Georgie’s back arched, her right knee extended out from the couch, giving him extra room to bear down, to angle his hips, and they descended into what felt like madness. Georgie whined and lifted her hips to meet his drives, her inner walls beginning a slow, tight milking of his cock. Travis almost couldn’t even look at her, worried the unchained sexuality breaking free beneath him might ruin everything, might make him come before her. In the end, though, keeping his eyes off her, keeping his skin off her, proved impossible. He was coming. Soon. Now. It was happening.

  Finesse went out the window and Travis fell on Georgie, grunting, sucking in shuddering gulps of oxygen, pushing her thighs open as he thrust, thrust, thrust, listening to her cries of his name, treasuring the husky awe of them in his ears. All around him.

  Their mouths met and gorged, Georgie’s hands slapping down on his ass to yank him deeper, urge him faster, and he didn’t have to think, didn’t have any option but to dip his head. Drop his panting mouth over her bouncing tits. Suction his mouth around her right nipple with a groan as come blazed a path up his throbbing dick, filling Georgie up as he continued to pump like a fiend.

  “Shit. Too soon. No, no . . . baby—”

  Her body went still, before quaking violently underneath him in climax—thank God—her pussy squeezing so tight, he shouted his victory into the crook of her neck, yanking her legs up and fucking into the storm for everything he was worth. His insides were razed, mind blown, but every cell in his body continued to gravitate toward Georgie until they were wrapped together on the couch, arms and legs entwined, mouths mashed together, hips slowing little by little.

  Oh my God. Best everything of his life. Nothing came close.

  But his chest ached. Hard. His mouth was dry, hands coasting and memorizing her skin. After sex came relief, right? What the hell was wrong with him?

  When sex was over, it usually—always—meant parting ways after the sweat cooled. He’d never been anything but fine with that outcome, because he barely knew the women to begin with. Panic niggled at him now, though, refusing to give up. If Georgie tried to leave or make him leave right now, he wouldn’t like it at all. No, he would hate it.

  She wouldn’t leave him, would she?

  “Whoa,” she whispered at his ear, her fingers threading through his hair. “Porn sucks.”

  His fear eased, a smile beckoning at the corners of his mouth. There was some insecurity in Georgie’s expression, probably thanks to his silent panic attack. So he framed her beautiful face in his hands and kissed it right off her mouth. “Nah. We’re just that good.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “How do you feel?”

  Her catlike yawn made his throat hurt. “Like that.” She smiled, somewhat shyly. “But I also feel spoiled because that was better than . . . wow. Than I ever expected. And smug because you look spoiled, too. Are . . . you? You know, spoiled?”

  “I can barely feel my fucking legs.”

  The smile bloomed, spreading to her cheeks, eyes. Gorgeous. “We brought it.”

  Could she hear his heart hammering? “Damn right we did,” he managed through the notch in his throat. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

  “Me?” She pursed her lips. “You’re visibly worn out.”

  Travis stood with a groan and scooped Georgie into his arms. “One time and you’re already cocky, huh?”

  She laid her head on his shoulder. “The student has become the teacher.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He yawned and pretended to stagger. “Tomorrow.”

  They laughed quietly, their mouths meeting for a thorough kiss. When he pulled back, she was watching him through her eyelashes. “Are you staying?”

  Tension crept into his shoulders, but he didn’t know where it stemmed from anymore. The worry that she might get the wrong idea and expect a commitment? Or worry that commitment didn’t seem like such a ridiculous notion when it meant getting to carry this girl to bed regularly? “For a while.”

  Travis carried Georgie into her bedroom and lay down beside her, their bodies molding front to back like spoons, grounding him in the moment. His jumbled thoughts were almost forgotten in the warmth of her skin, the evenness of her breathing.

  He wasn’t keeping her. He couldn’t. But what if he’d been wrong and this girl who owned his jersey and trusted him . . . did harbor real, lasting feelings for him? Then he was fooling himself that she wouldn’t get hurt. He was a selfish bastard, plain and simple.

  I need to tell her what Stephen told me. Give her a chance to confess or tell him her brother was wrong. Which one did Travis want to hear most? It didn’t matter. He owed her full honesty, even if it meant their whole arrangement came crumbling to the ground. But as she turned in his arms and wedged her head beneath his chin, the words wouldn’t come.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Travis had spent the night. In her house. In her bed.

  Probably, definitely by accident, but the fact remained. He’d lost consciousness with his arms wrapped around her and he was still there. They might not have eaten much of the chicken parm, but it was a heavy meal. That had to be the explanation for him passing out curved around her so protectively. So big and beautiful and male . . .

  A sigh slipped out of Georgie’s mouth, but she gobbled it back up. She was not going to lose sight of reality here. As far as Travis knew, she was nothing more than a consenting adult engaging in a temporary sexual relationship with someone of equal mind. No sticky feelings or thoughts of white picket fences to be found. She’d been so confident in her ability to remain realistic. To know this situation was going to run its course. But she hadn’t counted on him rising to the occasion quite so fast. And spectacularly.

  Georgie closed her mouth tight around the toothbrush, trying to keep the scrubbing noise from waking him up. Damn, the man could sleep. He was facedown, legs and arms sprawled in four directions, his taut, naked ass a sight for sore eyes among the sheets.

  This view. She could charge admission.

  There was a fuzzy koala doing somersaults in her stomach, tickling her ribs and pressing down on her unmentionable parts. Although Travis had surely made mention of them last night on the couch. So many times. Each time better than the last. Who knew she was such a sucker for a filthy mouth?

  Who knew you were such a sucker, period?

  She was beginning to feel like she’d set herself up for one epic fall. What if she succeeded in making him believe he was wort
hy of a healthy relationship . . . and he went and found a different one? With someone else who wanted a future filled with fewer rug rats? After all, he had been the one to insist their fake-dating plan remain in motion even while they slept together. After being with her like this, could he really foresee ending it so easily?

  What would she do then?

  Unable to shake the encroaching gloom, Georgie dipped back into the bathroom to rinse out her mouth, stowing her toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. She’d already laid out a packaged spare on the sink for Travis when he finally woke up. Hopefully that wouldn’t freak him out, having his own toothbrush. Maybe she should put it away and suggest he brush with his finger. That’s what a cool, casual chick would do, right? Not present her Costco contraband after night one.

  There was a low groan from the bedroom, followed by the creaking of bedsprings. Georgie’s sex clenched, causing a twinge of minor soreness. She’d expected her first time to be more painful—especially after seeing Travis’s erect penis. But she’d been so worked up and . . . damp . . . there had only been urgency. To be pushed down and filled. To please. To get pleasure herself. Mission accomplished.

  Georgie turned to fix her ponytail in the mirror and found her face bright red. She fanned her cheeks, commanding herself not to be awkward. So he spent the night. Didn’t change anything.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Georgie?”

  Her nipples turned to points at Travis’s gruff, post-sleep rasp. “Yeah?”

  Travis’s pitch dropped. “You mind getting back in bed?”

  Oh wow. She’d been worried he’d wake up like a cornered male, realizing he’d spent the night. Turned out, she’d been way off. With a calming breath, she toed open the bathroom door, coming face-to-face with a fully nude male marvel. “Good morning.” Nerves jangling in her limbs, she busied her fingers stuffing a stray hair into her ponytail. “I would ask how it’s hanging, but I can see for myself.”

  Completely unconcerned about the erection jostling around between them, he backed her into the bathroom. “Why are you dressed?”