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Beloved Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 3)

Page 42

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Either way, I’m surely going to have to field a thousand questions from Georgina about the confusing, and highly intriguing, things Isabel and I talked about in that video. Things like “Troy” and “blackmail” and “Francesca” and “secret.” All the things that initially kept me from sending that damned surveillance video to Georgina in the first place, even though I knew it would prove I’d been telling Georgina the truth about that kiss, and what it made me realize. Although, yeah, if I’m being honest, I was also highly skittish about Georgina witnessing the actual kiss. It’s one thing for me to tell Georgina I “only kissed” Isabel, and to let Georgina imagine it, and another thing for her to see it, and get confirmation that, to put it mildly, that smooch wasn’t a brotherly peck.

I lean against my gatepost, staring down my street. But, still, there’s no sign of Georgina. I look at my watch. She must have hit traffic. Welcome to LA.

I’ve never told a woman I love her before. But, today, for the first time in my life, I’ve told Georgina. Albeit, indirectly, through that video. Plus, I called her “my love” in my text. Which I’m now thinking might have been a bit premature. I think Georgina’s “XO” meant she feels the same way I do. I think Georgina is coming here to say she’s mine. But after this torturous week, and a lifetime of shit hitting fans in ways I never expected, I should know by now, better than anyone, not to count my chickens.

Hallelujah! I see Georgina’s car turning onto my street! As she draws near, I wave and smile broadly, the sight of her glorious face sending my heart galloping and my skin buzzing. And, in return, Georgina shoots me a wide, beaming smile that tells me everything I need to know.

She’s home.

She forgives me.

She loves me.

She’s all mine.

I know we’re going to need to talk in detail about everything, including the mysterious things Isabel and I talked about on that video. But, after seeing the smile on Georgina’s face, I know we’ll talk about all of it later. First things first, I’m going to take that woman into my arms and kiss the hell out of her and tell her I love her, to her face, while looking into her gorgeous hazel eyes. And then, I’m going to take her upstairs and show her, with every inch of me, how much she means to me.

Shaking with excitement, I tap out the gate code and wave Georgina’s little car through, and then sprint after her tailgate as she traverses my circular driveway and comes to a stop in front of my house. When Georgina’s car door opens, I’m already there, my arms extended. I swoop her into my embrace, and every atom of my body electrifies at the touch of her.

“Welcome home,” I murmur into her lips, just before crushing my mouth to hers. As our tongues tangle, a tsunami of love slams into me. Followed immediately by a hurricane of pent-up arousal. My heart thundering in my chest, I disengage from Georgina’s hungry lips and take her magnificent, tear-streaked face in my palms. “I love you, Georgina. I love you madly. Completely. And only you.”

Her smile is beaming. Radiant. Breathtaking. “I love you, too. Only you.”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’ll never do it again.”

She smiles. “We’ll call it a fair trade: a kiss for a Ferrari.”

I chuckle. “Deal.”

“That’s a one-time deal, by the way.”

“It’ll never happen again.”

She arches her eyebrow. “Can we talk about that kiss, though? Holy hell, Reed.”

I grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

She smiles. “It’s all right. What you said right afterward made it all worth it.” She winks. “But just barely.”

Sighing with relief, I kiss her again. And, soon, our kiss becomes voracious. I scoop her up like a bride, making her squeal, and stride into my house like a stallion running for the barn. When I get to my staircase, I take the steps two at a time and then barrel down the hallway toward my bedroom, whispering the entire time to Georgina about how much I’ve missed her, how much I want her, need her, love her, can’t wait to touch her, lick her, fuck her.

In my bedroom, I lay Georgina down onto my bed and begin energetically ripping off her clothes, and then mine. In short order, we’re a naked blur of greedy fingers and lips and tongues. Warm, bare skin against warm, bare skin. In record speed, I make her come with my fingers, which, not surprisingly, makes her beg me to fuck her.

But not yet.

I open the second drawer of my nightstand and retrieve something I’ve been keeping there for this exact moment. I return to Georgina, holding up her ruby necklace. And the moment she sees it, she gasps in shock.


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