Along for the Ride

“You’re no angel yourself,” Jason snapped back. “Remember that fight in Berlin? It was because of you that kicked off in the first place.”

“Yeah, but who was the one that needed to be carried home afterwards?!” Cal was really annoyed. “You and I are not in competition, Jason. Just remember that.”

“I know,” Jason replied sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m just ... in a mess. This is really bad karma, you know.”

Cal noticed Georgie was observing the exchange, fascinated. He nodded, letting it go. Jason was clearly ashamed of himself. Cal shrugged at Georgie, offering her a lopsided smile, trying to break the atmosphere of male physical aggression. Men had their own way of dealing with situations like this. She had to know that.

“Is the wound bad? Will I be able to play guitar again?” Jason spoke as if he could barely bring himself to ask the question.

“Stop being so bloody melodramatic,” Cal replied tersely.

Georgie coughed. “I think you’ll be okay, Jason,” she interjected. “But I think it needs to be properly dressed. Perhaps you’d better take him down to get it checked out at casualty, Cal?”

He nodded at the suggestion. He was relieved she had made it. “Yes. I’ll phone for a taxi.”

* * * * *

“You look much better now.” Georgie fussed round him when they finally returned from the local hospital. It was only a minor flesh wound, but Jason was still feeling rather sorry for himself.

He lay back against the sofa and smiled at her. He pulled gently at her kimono with the fingers of his right hand.

“You were modeling when I got here ... Georgie girl?” Even through the troubles that veiled his expression, she could see his simmering passion. It tickled something inside her, seeing him feeling so vulnerable like this, and, at the same time, so sensual. She glanced at the small dressing on his arm. It was a superficial wound. It was his pride and his sense of honor that had been hurt most of all. Her hand went down to stroke his chest, smoothing the dark band of hair across his collarbone and down between his nipples.

“Yes, I was modeling. Well, kind of.” She stroked the back of her fingers across his nipple fleetingly, and then passed back a second later. The peak had hardened. “Is the pain easing? Did they give you anything?”

“Yes, and with you here for me to look at, it’s much easier for me to forget the pain and the whole damned Zoë problem.” His voice was low and controlled.

Georgie let her hand trail down to his belt, playfully tugging at the worn leather that hung down across his fly.

“Do you remember how you distracted me from the pain when you did my tattoo?” She threw him a suggestive glance as she smiled at her own remark.

Jason nodded again, and his mouth curled at one corner, giving her that sexy smile of his. She crept between his legs, her hands running the length of his thighs, so hard and strong through the denim. Then she ran her fingers across the surface of his fly with the lightest touch, eliciting a subtle flex of his hips toward her, before her hands roved up across his chest again.

She kissed his mouth, firmly but gently. Then her mouth edged along his collarbone, her tongue taking the salty sweat from his skin with her slow, wet kisses. He shifted, his wounded arm resting, the other closing around her back, stroking the kimono down from her body to drop on the floor. His hand ran lightly over her back as she kissed his chest, his strokes in rhythm with her tongue’s movements.

She kissed his skin long and attentively, sucking gently, while she felt the stirring of his erection through the denim of his jeans. She nestled close, pressing one breast over the hard outline. His fingers paused their strokes momentarily, and then continued, more slowly than before. She sat back on her heels and undid his belt.

Cal came back from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel as he walked. He stopped when he caught sight of Georgie’s fingers taking their first gentle stroke over Jason’s distended cock.

Man, she looked so beautiful -- beautiful and sensuous. Arousal quickly gathered in his loins. He threw the towel over his shoulder and sank back against the wall to watch.

Jason was stretched back on the sofa, his eyes closed as he released himself to her. She curled over him, her back flexing as she moved to spread her kisses along the erect shaft of his cock. Cal could see from the slight twitches it gave, as she sucked in small, tender bites along its length, that her mouth was working its magic.

Her tongue flicked in and out, following the shape of the engorged tip as she tasted its flavor. When her tongue ran against the line of its swollen head, Jason’s body flexed, and he groaned. At that, she plunged over him, taking the shaft against the roof of her mouth, her fingers moving through his black pubic hair to nestle his heavy balls into the palms of her hands. She alternated from darting touches on the tip of his cock to circles around its head, and then rode the length of it fast, working him up into a whimpering frenzy. He flexed his hips and whispered her name repeatedly, then grunted loudly as he came. Georgie’s fingers swept up his shaft, her lips closing tight around him. She was intent on swallowing him. Cal watched as the jerk and thrust of Jason’s cock was echoed in her throat when she gulped him down.

Cal was uncomfortably aroused. His erection pressed against the enclosure of his jeans. He’d been taking pleasure in watching and in restraint, but he couldn’t bear it for much longer, and his hand pressed hard against his cock. The contact was such a provocation, making it demand all the more. He stole open his buttons and freed his erection, his hand closing a rhythm over it within a heartbeat. His shoulders pressed into the wall, his hips thrust forward. He looked away from the couple softly entwined in a salty kiss, to the powerful erection that she had invoked in him, as well.

The angry head throbbed in his grip, swelling dark purple with the blood that pounded there. It seemed to stare at him accusingly, confronting his vicarious habits. When he came, he just managed to capture its outburst in the towel from his shoulder. Gratified, he bit his lip to eke out the sensation, his mind full of images of Georgie. Watching her brought him such bittersweet pleasure, but for some reason it was getting harder not to drag her away for himself.

When he joined them a while later, she was curled up on the floor by the sofa. She and Jason were talking in quiet voices. Georgie’s head turned toward him. She smiled up at him. Her expression showed the passing knowledge of his peripheral involvement. She was perfect in every way. He was fast growing attached to her.

He bent to kiss her forehead, then opened up a folding chair and sprawled in it. He glanced over at Jason. He looked tired. “You’re a damned healthy creature.”

Jason gave a gentle laugh. He was getting drowsy, the combination of painkillers, brandy, and a heady orgasm leading him into slumber.

“He should get out of London for a while,” Cal commented after Jason had drifted off to sleep. “Take a break from the controversy and let Greg cool his heels until it’s over.”

“Good idea, but if you’re going away for a few days, can I come along for the ride?” Georgie smiled. “Term is over, so there’s nothing to keep me here, for now. I’d rather be with you ... and we have the work for your exhibition to think of.”