Four For Christmas(23)
Georgia bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Yes. Again. How could she want more already? They’d created a monster. “Please, Jimmy. Hurry.”
He swore, his usual calm command suddenly seeming to desert him. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and met her gaze in the reflection. “You are hell on my control, Georgia.”
He pulled her back against him with his hand while his hips thrust hard against her. She cried out, then covered her mouth with her hands, her elbows the only things holding her body off the counter.
Jimmy bent over to whisper in her ear as he continued his slow, long, powerful strokes. “That’s right.” His words were short bursts of air, matching his thrusts. “You don’t want them to hear. You want me to fuck you. Just like this. Hard. Deep. Don’t you, bad girl?”
She nodded, loving the way he controlled her body. Loving the roughness.
He smiled. “Jesus, they’re right. You are fucking perfect, aren’t you? You love this.” He slung his hips against her so hard the counter rattled and she saw dark spots in front of her eyes. She did love it. Heaven help her, she seemed to love whatever they did to her.
Her sex clenched around him as she felt the first waves of her climax. Her body was primed now. Ready for pleasure. Jimmy swore. “I wanted this to last longer.”
His hips rocked against her, faster now as she moaned and buried her face in her hands. So good. He felt so good.
“Georgia, fuck Georgia—“ he let out a short shout before burying his face in her hair, trying to muffle his sounds of ecstasy as he came inside her.
When he lifted his head she looked up, both of them seeing similarly stunned expressions in the mirror. Georgia wasn’t sure if she could stand up again. Or how many more orgasms she could have in one night before dying from endorphins.
This much of a good thing didn’t happen to Georgia Bale. Especially not in time for her birthday. Not for Christmas.
She was the first to look away, bending down to reach for her towel.
“Georgia, I—”
The knock on the door was loud and obnoxious. “We know you’re in there.” Flynn shouted jokingly through the door. “No fair having fun without us. You should consider that some of us are younger and have more stamina.”
Chris’s voice was easily heard behind him. “And some of us our older and have more finely crafted skills.”
Jimmy snorted and spoke to the door. “Some of us are police officers and have more guns. We’ll be out in a minute.” He turned her around, looking for…something. “You okay?”
No. She was pretty sure she was something far more extreme than okay. Okay implied average. Fine. Mediocre. Sane. Normal. Not imagining she could be anything more to these men than a snowbound fling. Not dreaming something like this could last beyond a drunken night or the need for human contact.
No. She was definitely not okay.
“I’m fine.”
For a writer, she was also a fairly bad liar.
Chapter Seven
She woke up slowly, feeling as if every part of her body had been beautifully abused. A small smile curved her lips. So it hadn’t been a dream. Her headache was a small price to pay for such an unbelievable night. She hoped her three hosts felt the same. She wasn’t sure what she would do if they didn’t. If they had regrets.
She frowned.
“I liked it better when you were smiling.”
Georgia opened one eye sleepily. Chris. He was smiling. That was a good sign, right? “Good morning.”
He shrugged, setting the book he’d been reading on his lap. “Or afternoon.”
She sat up too quickly, wishing her head had come with her. She reached for it, aching temples and all. “Afternoon? I’m so sorry. Did Roux—?”
“She’s fine. In fact, I think it’s safe to say we all have bad cases of puppy love.” He lowered his lids, pursing his lips as if holding something back. “She’s one smart dog, isn’t she? Flynn wants to teach her how to ski.”
She suddenly saw an image of her poor dog flying down a hill strapped to snow skis; her black muzzle peeled back is an expression of terror, her eyes wide. “Over my dead body. What are you doing?”
He’d been sitting by the window in her bedroom, reading. Chris’s smile was endearing. “Would you believe I was worried about you? We were a little hard on you last night, and you’d just recovered from the ordeal that brought you here.” He shrugged. “You’re also kind of beautiful when you sleep.”
She saw the aspirin and water by her bed and smiled. “Thank you, Doc. This is just what I needed. Other than the teensiest of hangovers, I’m fine.”