Fix Her Up

“Christ Almighty. Where have you been hiding this ass?”

She wasn’t given a chance to answer. There was a snap behind her, like a bottle opening, followed by a liquid sound. With her heart going wild in her throat, Georgie waited, gasping into the comforter when a thick layer of moisture was smoothed over her bottom by skilled hands, some of the drops landing on the material gathered down the middle. “What is that?” Georgie whispered, her body moving on autopilot, hips tilting to offer herself to him more completely.

“You told me to find a way.” Travis’s voice rasped low at her ear, his body settling on top of her, his thick, flexing thighs on either side of her hips. “Can’t keep working over that pussy without finding out how tight it really is. And the panties have to stay on—”

“That’s your rule, not mine.”

He clapped a hand over her mouth, releasing a low curse when it made her whimper, her lower body shifting excitedly on the bed. “I should send you home with your shiny, new orgasm, but I’m not that kind of man, Georgie.” His right hand released her mouth and slid beneath her hips, massaging her sensitive flesh through her wet panties. “I’m the kind who’s about to use your ass to get off and come on your back. I’m too hot to give a sweet fuck that you’re my friend’s little sister right now. And that should bother you.”

“Shut up,” she whispered, lust weaving up her spine, turning her from awkward girl to desirable woman. Her ass lifted of its own accord, writhing against the hard denim ridge. “I want everything you said. I’m saying yes. Please don’t stop.”

His body flattened hers. Hard. Breath whooshed from her lungs. It was difficult to hear Travis’s zipper being yanked down over the rattling of her pulse, but she grasped the noise and savored what she’d actually managed to drive a man to. A sexually experienced man. Travis.

When his flesh slapped down between her cheeks, Georgie’s mouth fell open, her hands twisting in the comforter. Hot air puffed from his mouth into the cradle of her neck, followed by a long groan as his hips began to roll. The movements started off as seeking, testing drives, but they didn’t stay that way for long. Soon enough, Travis’s hands sank into the bedclothes right alongside hers, his erection tunneling up and back through the split of her backside in rough grinds. Every drive of his hips was accompanied by a guttural sound that became Georgie’s reason for living on the spot. She opened her thighs wide as she could and offered herself up like a sacrifice.

And Travis accepted it. Unapologetically.

They weren’t having sex, but their bodies mimicked the act in the most desperate fashion, sweat building on their skin, their heavy breathing filling the room. God, what would it be like to have him pumping and snarling at her like this while his flesh actually filled her? Would she survive that? Her loins were beginning to tighten again, just from the slick friction of their lower bodies, aided by the liquid he’d applied, Travis’s chest and stomach muscles roaming up and down her back, his pace picking up, up, up . . . until she had to hold on for dear life or get thrown off the bed.

“This what you like, baby girl? Flashing me this ass and making me hungry for it?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, tilting her hips as far as they would go . . . and oh God. Travis adjusted his manhood and surged forward again, letting that thick arousal drag along the front of her panties, muttering for her to get her ass up. Up. When she complied, he tucked himself flush between her thighs and ground forward right on top of her clit. “Oh please, oh please.”

His hand wrapped around the bunched material between her bottom cheeks, using it as leverage to keep her still while he bucked, the mattress springs squeaking beneath them. “Might be a virgin, but you’ve been dreaming about fucking for a while, haven’t you?” His hips dropped down on top of Georgie’s hard, his hand tucking back beneath her to rub her clit with rough circles, his lower body never ceasing in its powerful drives. “This is it, baby girl. Down and dirty like goddamn animals. Getting off however we can. That’s all I know how to do.”

“No,” she managed, the onslaught of sensation making her voice seem distant. “Y-you can do anything.”

Travis gave a hoarse groan into her neck and bore down on her clit with two stiff fingers, his hips starting to move in disjointed patterns. “Go on. Soak those panties one more time. I want you too messy to go back out in public. Straight home in that skirt, baby girl.”

Was it the command that set her off? Or his touch? Georgie didn’t know or care, could only scream into the mattress as her flesh pulled again and again in rhythmic waves. Hot fluid landed on the small of her back a moment later, the sound of Travis’s broken growl echoing off the walls. Her orgasm lifted in intensity at the proof of his satisfaction, her pelvis grinding against the mattress, not a drop of shame to be found anywhere.

“Look at you,” Travis said, voice unnatural. His hand came down and laid a resounding smack on Georgie’s buttocks, starting a ringing in her head, sending bone-deep fulfillment coursing through her. “How dare you make me come this hard with your fucking panties on.” He squeezed the spanked flesh, then gave it a final, lighter slap. “How am I ever going to look at you again, without knowing how bad you need this?”

Sensing they were done, Georgie waited for Travis to clean off her back with his discarded T-shirt, then flopped her boneless body down on the bed and rolled over. He was in an upright kneel, tucking his still impressive flesh into his jeans before zipping up. Exhaling. The trenches in his forehead made her nervous. When would he look at her? She needed to get a read on him after what they’d done. Travis was a notorious anti-commitment flag bearer, so she definitely wasn’t expecting a declaration of . . . like . . . She didn’t expect anything, did she?

His guarded expression told her to keep it light. If this never happened again, there was a slight possibility they could go back to how things were before. At least for Travis. As for her phony-relationship proposal, there was a good chance she’d just made it impossible. The plan had been to keep things platonic. None of the perks. But they’d just hard-core perked.

“So I thought porn-star sex had way more camera angles,” she managed, blowing some hair out of her face. “I didn’t even get to see the money shot.”

That surprised a low laugh out of him. “Trust me, it was professional quality.” He shook his head while looking her over. “Come here.”

Her heart ramped up to a hundred miles per hour. “Why?”

“We don’t have to get up right away—” He cut himself off with an impatient noise. “Quit asking questions and get over here.”

There was no help for her enthusiasm. With the prospect of being held by Travis—both of them half naked—excitement sprung up inside her like a geyser. She sat up and threw her arms around him, toppling them sideways onto the pillows. Obviously, she’d caught him off guard, but he recovered with an exasperated sigh that ruffled her hair. Seeming at odds with himself, he eventually wrapped an arm around the small of Georgie’s back, tugging her into the warmth of his chest.

“A few minutes won’t hurt,” he muttered, seemingly to himself.

She nuzzled into his chest hair to hide her smile.

At least ten minutes passed while they lay there. A clock ticked in the distance, matching the drum of Travis’s heart against her ear. Every time he shifted, she thought the cuddling was over—and it seemed like Travis did, too. That he was surprised to find his fingertips trailing up and down her back, his chin dropping on top of her head. She’d thought of basking in Travis’s strong arms millions of times, but the reality made those fantasies seem silly in comparison. This was a real-life man with complications. A past. A future taking shape.

I’m no one’s entertainment anymore.

Was that how he’d been treated? Was that how she’d thought of him before he came home?

Acting on impulse, she laid a kiss in the center of his chest and felt his heartbeat falter. “Sometimes when I do parties, I try to start a conversation with one of the parents, but I can tell they just want me to go entertain the kids. It’s like this really stiff smiling, nodding hint to get back to work. To doing what I’m good at.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Do you think I’m more than a clown?” She swallowed. “Professionally and . . . figuratively.”

He ran a hand down her hair. “Of course I do, Georgie.”

Cool relief slipped beneath her skin. “See? People can be wrong. They can treat you one way when you deserve another, but it’s their fault. Not yours.” His frame was beginning to stiffen against her, so she rushed to finish. “I’m sorry if you were treated like less than you are.”

For several heavy beats, he didn’t move or breathe. “All right,” he said finally, removing his arms from around Georgie and rolling onto his back. “That’s enough.”

Georgie banished the pinch of hurt. “Don’t be so romantic.”

He stacked his hands behind his head. “You’ve got the wrong man for that.”