Georgia’s eyes close.
“Yes,” she says, barely audible.
“Me too,” I say.
Georgia lets out a little whine, one that sounds frustrated. Then she ducks her head, pressing kisses to my jaw. It’s a sweet, fluttery sensation that makes my cock perk up in interest as shivers run down my spine, and I crane my neck back to give her more access. We’re both sitting on the edges of ours chair now, balancing precariously as we get as close as possible, our legs tangling between us. I can feel the way her skin is heating up beneath my palms, and my heart is thumping loudly in my chest.
Then Georgia nips the skin on my jaw with her teeth, and I gasp, because that went straight to my groin. She smoothes it over with her tongue before kissing lower, down my neck and over my fluttering pulse. Her touches are light but they awaken every nerve in my body, sending fire through my veins. I tighten my hands on her hips. I suddenly can’t bear the idea that she could possibly stop touching me.
“Don’t stop,” I breathe.
“I don’t plan on it,” she says teasingly. “Do you remember when you did this to me?”
She presses a soft kiss to my collar. I’m reminded, abruptly, of kissing and biting her there the last time we touched each other like this. I left a mark on her, I remember, one that bruised for several days. The logic in the back of my head wakes, reminding me of how guilty I felt whenever I saw it. But Georgia bites down and I stop thinking about it that as I groan.
“Fuck,” I gasp.
Georgia laughs lightly, humming around the skin in her mouth and sending vibrations through my body. She sucks hard on the skin, pulling it between her teeth, and my cock is so hard now that I can barely think straight. Slowly, she licks the mark to soothe it slightly, but it still throbs as she pulls away. It’s going to be so very clear in the morning, and my stomach jumps at the thought of seeing it when I wake and remembering what happened between us.
I had only intended on kissing Georgia. But it’s impossible, I suddenly realize. I discovered this ten years ago, too, which was when I should have pulled away.
As soon as I touch Georgia, I’m caught by the addictive taste and feel of her body, and now there’s no turning back.
Chapter Eight
Georgia
I’m a fool.
I know it, even as I pull open Ethan’s shirt and drink in the sight of his smooth muscles, his normally pale skin slightly tanned from the overly hot sun lately. The mark on his neck is already beginning to bruise. His cock is straining in his jeans, and I’m so hot that I’m ready to tear my own clothes off.
This is a bad idea. Sleeping with Ethan again can’t bring anything good. He’s drunk, and it almost feels like I’m taking advantage, despite the fact that he kissed me first.
But I can’t help it. I never forgot the way Ethan touched me so long ago, and just how addictive it was. I fell into a puddle of goo the moment he kissed me, and it was impossible to resist once he told me how beautiful he thought I was. My traitorous body had reacted, and pulling away from him is impossible.
“We should continue this in the bedroom,” I say, running my head down his chest.
“Good idea,” he breathes. “I’m going to fuck you hard when we get there.”
I shiver at his words. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel him inside me once more. There’s no way I can let this chance go.
No matter how much I’ll regret it in the morning.
We pull ourselves to our feet. We’re both lightheaded and drunk on lust. Neither of us has had an intimate relationship for a very long time, and that makes the sparks of pleasure that dart through us ten times more intense. I can’t help but wind my arms around Ethan’s neck as we move, crashing my lips against him in a fierce kiss, and we knock against the walls as we fumble our way to Ethan’s open bedroom door.
I rip at the zipper on Ethan’s pants. My movements are rushed and frantic now, as are Ethan’s. Our hands are flying everywhere. We desperately want to touch each other’s skin. I feel Ethan pushing my jeans down and I step out of them as we move slowly toward the bed before pushing his pants away, taking his boxers with them so his cock can spring free.
I slide his shirt down over his shoulders, and then we part just long enough for Ethan to pull my shirt over my head before meeting back in that desperate kiss, licking and biting and tasting each other as though it will be the last time we ever feel like this. Ethan’s trembling fingers are on my bra and, after a moment, it unclips and falls to the ground. Feeling uncomfortable moisture in my panties, already incredibly wet and ready for Ethan, I push my own underwear down and kick them away.
Then Ethan and I step closer. Our naked bodies meet and my head spins at the sensation, making me gasp against his lips. It’s all too much, and the burning inferno around us makes me groan.
“Fuck, Georgia,” Ethan pants, pulling away. “So hot?”
He must be feeling the heat, too. Feeling a little dizzy from it all, I shove him back toward the bed. He falls back onto it and I crawl up onto it until we reach the middle.
“I want to taste you,” I say. “I want to feel your cock in my mouth and suck everything out of you.”
Ethan almost seems to stop breathing at my words. Then he gasps and pulls me in.