Chapter Four

Blake

 

 

I’d seen her at the bar the weekend before. I’d almost walked out of the place when Seyvia’s song started playing, then Georgina had caught my eye. I’d gone back hoping she would show up again, and she did, wearing a dress that was even tighter than the first one, showing off her incredible curves. Her face held such a vulnerable and innocent beauty, but she had these wide, impossibly full lips that I couldn’t get out of my mind. Her long dark hair hung past her shoulders. It was sexy, in a ragged kind of way. Everything about her was sexy in a ragged kind of way that first night—from the little tears in the material of her dress to how she grabbed a punker-wannabe out of nowhere and made out with him for the sheer hell of it. It turned me on like nothing else. She seemed so wild and uninhibited. The kind of girl I needed. Someone who liked to have a bit of fun, with no commitments.

When I got the chance to talk to her, I said something dumb about not dancing and thought I’d ballsed the whole thing up. Everyone knew ladies liked guys who could dance. I knew that too well. It was half the reason I didn’t dance anymore. The other half of the reason was too painful to think about

But Georgina had just laughed with me, and I suddenly had no idea what kind of girl I was dealing with. When she joked with me, and went home with me, I figured she was a goer after all. Then everything changed again, and she was gone.

And now this. This list.

I stared at the items written out in the little black book. Make love with another woman. Wow, that sounded good. The arousal I’d been fighting since Georgina let me play with her gorgeous breasts came back again with a vengeance.

It wasn’t hard to picture Georgina on her back with her legs spread open, her eyes closed and her hair flung out all across the pillows as another woman licked her thighs, starting low, working her way higher, higher. I could see myself in that encounter too …

“Bloody hell.” Even as a fantasy it was almost too much to bear.

I shook the vision off and splashed my face with cold water in the sink. The journal was personal. I’d only looked inside to identify what it was and why it had appeared on my bathroom floor. It wasn’t right to snoop on her like that.

I closed the book, but that didn’t shut off my thoughts.

I had to wonder why she was doing it. From the list, I understood that she was a virgin and that she wanted to drop that like a lead balloon, but what about the rest of it? The list was new, that was obvious—she’d only gotten to the first item.

Scratch that. Top two items now. Second base was made tonight. She just hadn’t had a chance to cross it off. Bloody Americans and their baseball metaphors.

Second base. I put the journal on top of my dresser and lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about her breasts, how soft they had been in my hands, how her nipples had gotten so hard they’d felt like tiny pebbles between my lips. The way she’d gasped, it was like she’d never felt that way before. Why had she never gotten to second base? She was so sexy I was still hard and aching for her. Surely she’d had other opportunities.

My hand was reaching for my fly, but I groaned and stood up again. I had to go and get that damn sexy list out of my house or I’d be spending the whole next week tossing off. I had dropped her back at the club where her car was, but someone there had to know where she lived.

I grabbed my bike helmet, and opened the front door.

And there she stood.

A light drizzle of rain created a halo of mist around her. The small smile on her face didn’t hide the fear in her eyes. “Sorry, I know it’s really late. I think … I left … something here. I hope you don’t mind me dropping back in but it’s … very important to me.”

I held the journal out to her.

Her face went pale. She reached for the notebook but before she could put her hand on it I asked, “Did you think I was too hot to resist, or did you just grab the first guy interested in tits?”

I had meant it as a joke, but for some reason it came out wrong. It sounded like I was angry. Am I? I’d been used before, and I’d used others before, but never for this, like this. Never as an item on a list. I had no idea how to feel.

Georgina took a long breath. “You read my list?”

She looked so shell-shocked I tried harder to be jovial. “Not that any guy would mind being used by a girl like you.”

She flinched at the word ‘used’. “It’s not like that. Not really. I just … I want to do those things on the list, and you seemed to want to do that thing as well, and you’re pretty much the hottest guy I have ever seen …” Her voice cut off and her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink.

I wished I could say I was confused, but I wasn’t. I knew how the world worked, just like everyone else. And when I went to the club hoping to see Georgina again, I’d have been lying if I’d said I wasn’t just thinking about sex.

I held the journal back out and she took it. She tucked it under her arm and said thank you so softly I almost missed it.

“I could help you with that list, if you want.” I said it quickly. My brain was still stuck on the idea of her and another woman making love.

“How?” she asked.

How? Well, shit. I hadn’t really thought it through before I just blurted that out. Now I realized I’d basically just offered to be her sex toy. What was a good way to say, ‘Hey, I would love to be between you and another woman’? I sure didn’t know how. I just knew it sounded like a bloody good time.

The awkward silence drew on. She just stood there, soaking wet, staring at me, waiting for an answer. Sweat broke out on my forehead.

Soaking wet …? It struck me then that the rain that had started out as a light drizzle had turned into a full-on gusher. Her black hair was plastered to her face, and beads of water had collected on her long eyelashes. No wonder she was looking at me like I was the world’s biggest jerk. I was too busy trying to lay her to see that she was inches away from drowning.

“Damn. It’s pouring out there. Come inside?”

She glanced at her tiny, bright green hatchback that was sitting in my driveway. I half-expected her to tell me to sod off and be gone again, but instead she took one long step inside the house. I could smell the faded ghost of her light perfume, making me think of blueberries and caramel.

She must have gotten home and changed before coming back. Her pale pink T-shirt was wet and her bra showed clearly against the fabric of it. I stared at it, at the cups and the flesh rising above them for a minute before I remembered my manners. Feeling even more like a tool, I ran down the hall for a towel but all the ones I owned were on the bathroom floor. I did the sniff test on a few of the cleanest dirty towels before deciding that none of them were any good. I had been meaning to get to the laundry for two weeks now, but I’d never been good at keeping chores and housework under control. I caught sight of my unmade bed in the other room. I grabbed a sheet off it, plus one of my old football shirts, and headed back to the living room.

The jeans she had on were as soaked as her T-shirt. They clung to her thighs and hugged the curves of her heart-shaped ass. I paused for a second, staring at her bottom, at the uplifted cheeks neatly bisected by the seam of her jeans. That body … that list … if she agreed to my offer it would be like an open pass, and I imagined ticking the items off. My cock grew so hard so fast I considered going back the other way, but she turned around and saw me so I lost my chance to hide. I held the sheet out in front of me so she wouldn’t see my bulge and I wanted to laugh at the whole situation. This was like being back in high school and dealing with a perma-erection all over again.

I started to dry her off, hoping to give myself time to calm down but touching her, even through the dingy sheet and her wet clothes, was not the best idea. My jeans just got tighter. Out of sheer desperation, I tossed the sheet over her head and let her handle it. If I touched her again I was going to have jeans wetter than hers.

“You never answered my question,” she said as she dragged the sheet off and started drying her hair with it. She was standing in a puddle of water that was getting bigger with each second and not realizing how bloody delicious she looked, demanding to know how I was offering to help with her sex list.

“Well,” I started, trying to be delicate. “You’ll need a man for some of your list, and I’m … a man …”

Fuck.