A Bookie's Odds (16 page)

Nicholas stepped into the bathroom and flipped on the light. He groaned at the sight of the matching red lace bra and panties hanging across the shower rod.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 13

Nicholas paused in the doorway. In the window sat Georgia, the moonlight illuminating shapely legs barely covered by her pajama top. The pajama bottoms were folded neatly in a chair in the corner behind her. The memory of where her panties were hanging caused a return of the problem he had taken care of five hours earlier.

Georgia made no move to cover her legs. She rested her head against the window frame to stare outside.

Nicholas told his libido to settle down before he walked across the room to her.

“You should be sleeping.”

“I should be tending bar right now.” Her somber tone cut through him. He had never been able to stand to see her sad.

He hooked a finger under her chin and turned her face toward him. “The business will be all right if the bar’s closed one more night.”

“Daddy worked so hard to open the bar. I can’t sit by and watch his dreams die.” Her gaze dropped to her folded hands where they rested on her bent knees.

She was a rare person. There weren’t too many people willing to work overtime for someone else’s dream, especially when they weren’t allowed to share in that dream. Because of her personality, he was determined to make her goals his.

He placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “His dream won’t die.”

Georgia lifted her head, and his eyes dropped to her lips. He remembered the last time she had stayed at his apartment.

Celeste and Georgia had been looking forward to their proms, as they had made pacts to get their first kiss that night. His sister’s date, however, had made a pact with his friends to get a lot further.

Though the high school they attended was integrated, the colored students were encouraged to remain to one side of the gymnasium during the prom. With no close friends to look out for her, Celeste’s date had been able to spike her drinks. Thankfully, her inability to hold her liquor had her fleeing from the room within an hour of their arrival, which alerted Georgia that something was amiss.

Once Celeste finished emptying the contents of her stomach on the floor of the ladies’ room, Georgia had her date drive them to Nicholas’s apartment. She then helped her friend get settled in the queen-sized bed before sitting on the windowsill to mourn her lost opportunity.

Feeling sorry for her, Nicholas had decided to make her fantasy come true. After telling her to close her eyes, he pressed his lips against hers.

Georgia had frozen, though he suspected it was due to her inexperience, not fear. He was gentle as he tasted the lingering sweetness of fruit punch and felt her soft lips.

The kiss was not magical. Nicholas did not see stars or feel the earth move. If he had been trying to get aroused, the kiss would not have done the job. However, when he pulled back, Georgia smiled as if it had been the most incredible experience of her life.

Her reaction had been silly, yet he did not laugh. She had been too innocent to know the difference. He figured once she married she’d learn what it truly felt like to be kissed.

Nicholas smiled as he remembered the kiss. It was the logical solution to his problem. It had worked once in suppressing his libido; surely it would work again.

So as not to startle her, he slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. As he expected, Georgia froze. Her reaction was the perfect turnoff. He could not get excited when a woman did nothing. He needed her to be an active participant before he could move forward.

Just as he felt the effects of her lack of participation, Georgia tilted her head to the side. Her mouth opened. The tip of her tongue swiped across his bottom lip.

Nicholas’s eyes popped open. That was not a move from an inexperienced girl. It was a gesture made from a woman who knew how to turn a man on…and it was working. A surge flowed straight to the body part he had been trying to get flaccid.

****

Georgia did not know what she was doing.

The two times she had been kissed, the men had taken the initiative. She only knew how to get a man to back off, something she did not want Nicholas to do.

For the first time since finding her father, she did not see the image of his battered body. Nicholas had distracted her and, though it would only be for a short time, she wanted to relish the peace.

Nicholas tensed. Believing she did something wrong and needed to quit before she repulsed him, Georgia pulled back. However, instead of releasing her, he gripped the back of her head, holding her in place.

His tongue caressed hers. The movements were slow and gentle, as if he was sampling a fine wine—he wanted to take his time, savor the moment, and make it last. At least, that’s what she wanted, and she could only hope he felt the same way.

Nicholas’s hand slipped to her knee. He slowly moved it to her calf, then back up to the knee. The movement sent a tingle down her legs to the tips of her toes. He moved his hand again, and the sensation increased.

It was the first time a man had ever touched her. Yet she did not fear what would happen next. When Celeste and she were eleven, Nonna Sophie had explained what occurred between a man and woman, so neither girl would have to wait until her wedding night, as she had.

With each stroke, Nicholas’s hand moved farther past her knee, until he pushed back the hem of the pajama top. A breeze caressed the juncture between her legs, reminding Georgia of her lack of clothes. She had not thought about it when he walked into the room; her mind had been on the bar. But with his lips on hers and his fingers stroking her leg, she was more than aware of what he would come in contact with if he moved his hand much farther up her thigh.

Georgia knew a respectable woman did not let a man between her thighs before they stood before a preacher. She should remind Nicholas she was not one of the women he bedded; she did not give it up at a drop of a hat to whoever was available at the moment. But she was too curious to stop him. Would his touch increase the throbbing between her legs, or offer her relief?

****

Georgia sighed. The noise effectively reminded Nicholas who he was with. He snatched back his hand and broke from the kiss.

Panting, he stepped out of her reach and brushed his hand over his brow. How the hell did Georgia manage to get him more excited with a kiss than his companion of the previous evening with all her experience and her cache of tricks?

“Who taught you that?” His tone was harsher than he intended; besides being excited, he was angry.

The thought of another man kissing her pissed him off. It did not matter that she wasn’t his nor would she ever be. He did not want anyone else with her.

Nicholas was also angry at himself. The kiss was not supposed to excite him. He was supposed to be turned off, so things could go back to the way they were.

Georgia’s eyes narrowed. She slid off the windowsill and started toward the door. Nicholas realized he was about to get his wish. Things would go back to the way they were when they were not speaking to each other.

Nicholas rushed after her and grabbed her arm. He could not let her walk away again. She meant too much to him.

“You’ve got a lot of—”

“I’m sorry.”

He knew he had a lot of nerve questioning what she was doing and who she did it with. That was her business and would only become his if she chose to reveal it. Otherwise, for the sake of their friendship, he needed to leave it alone.

The angry creases in Georgia’s forehead faded as quickly as they appeared. She nodded her acceptance of his apology. The gesture was not enough.

Though he knew it would pain him in the long run, Nicholas pulled her toward him. When she allowed him to hold her, he knew she forgave him.

Chapter 14

“What are you doing?’

Georgia squeaked as she spun around and peeped over the top of the sofa. She could have sworn Nicholas was sleeping when she looked at him seconds earlier.

He grimaced as she rested her forearms on the back of his makeshift bed. His hair stuck out to the left, right, and in front of him, yet she suspected it would be flat in the back when he sat up. Crust had formed in the corner of his eyes, and the stubble on his face had ceased being a five-o’clock shadow twenty-four hours ago.

His shirt lay across the back of the sofa, next to Georgia’s arm. His sleeveless undershirt was hiked up, revealing the fine line of hair between his navel and the waist of his pants. Her eyes continued lower to the generous bulge in the front of his pants. She stared until he reached for the afghan under her arms and tugged it over him.

“Well?” he grumbled. “What were you doing?”

Georgia’s cheeks warmed as she returned her attention to his face. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed the bulge when he woke in the morning. After being on the receiving end of one too many pranks by his sister, he had learned to sleep lightly—a habit a fifteen-year-old Georgia had discovered during a sleepover.

On a dare, she had snuck into Nicholas’s bedroom with a washcloth she had placed in the refrigerator the previous night. As she prepared to drop the cold cloth on his face, he reached up, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her onto the bed. Once he had her pinned down, he dropped the cloth on her face.

Squealing, Georgia had squirmed under him until he hissed. She stopped moving as he froze, his morning wood pressed against her leg. A second passed before his face turned red. He rolled off her and ordered her out the room as he tried to cover his lower regions with the bed sheet.

His tone had indicated dawdling was not an option, and Georgia scrambled from beneath him and out of the room. She stopped in the hall to consider what had happened.

The experience had not repulsed or scared her. Instead, she had been left curious as to what he looked like without his pajama bottoms. She, however, had not found out, as he’d moved into his own place not too long after the incident, stating it was time he was on his own.

“Are you going to stand there with a goofy grin on your face all day?”

Georgia shrugged as she tried to regain her composure.

“Since you’re not sure, go find someplace else to stand.”

“Fine, I’ll go make breakfast.”

“Hell, no.” He struggled to sit up, obviously sore from sleeping on the sofa. What he went through for her was above and beyond what was considered necessary for a friend.

“Would you like me to rub your back for you?” Georgia asked, wanting to do something in return for his kindness.

“Don’t touch me.”

With a speed she did not think possible, Nicholas shot off the sofa and jumped out of her reach.

Georgia cocked an eyebrow. She stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why not?” She tried not to laugh at his behavior.

“You touch me, and I won’t be liable for what I do next.” He wiped his hand across his face. “Go find something to do.”

“I told you I was going to make breakfast, and you said ‘no.’ ”

“No offense, but you’re not the best cook.”

Georgia shrugged her shoulders. No offense taken. She knew she did not have any culinary skills. Her father had passed on what little knowledge he had to her. And he could only ensure they did not end up in the hospital with food poisoning.

She wondered how much better Nicholas thought he could do. She had never seen him step foot in a kitchen, unless he was about to eat.

During her last visit, no one had gone near the room. In the morning, a hungover Celeste had begged them to spare her the agony of having to smell anything stronger than water.

“Go use the bathroom so I can get in there,” Nicholas said. “I’ll fix breakfast once I’m done.”

“I’ve already used the shower.”

He waved his hand toward the hall. “Then go get dressed.”

Georgia folded her arms over her chest. “If sleeping on the sofa’s going to make you that cranky, next time I’ll sleep on it and you take the bed.”

“Not happening.”

“I could suggest we both—”

“Go,” Nicholas ordered.

****

He knew he had not been as loud as he intended when Georgia did not scurry out of the room. She huffed before she sauntered away, her hips gently swaying from side to side. He did not know if her movements were intentional or not. Either way, it had the same effect on him.

Nicholas had not thought it was possible to get harder than he had been last night, but the fullness in his underwear alerted him that it was not only possible but downright uncomfortable.

He started down the hall as Georgia stepped into the bedroom and closed the door. What was going on with his body? The pajamas were several sizes too big on her. The top was buttoned to the neck, and she had not bothered to roll up the sleeves, so only her head showed. She had to hold up the front of the pajama pants to avoid tripping over them when she walked. Yet his libido was responding to her as if she were prancing around in skimpy lingerie.

Nicholas ducked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. To his relief, Georgia’s underwear was no longer hanging from the rod.

He quickly shed the rest of his clothes and stepped under the refreshing spray. He was more than a bit ripe. The previous night, a
fter hugging Georgia, he’d retreated from the room before he gave in to the temptation to kiss her again. When he reached the living room, he realized he had forgotten—for the second time—to grab a change of clothes. Since he was spending another night in his clothes,
he had not seen the purpose of showering then.

Before he could wash away the grime, he needed relief. Closing his eyes, he tried to conjure up the image of a voluptuous Alice, stretched out on her bed, wearing nothing but a leer. Yet no matter how hard he concentrated, the only woman who came to mind was Georgia.

The memory of her bare legs and the softness of her thighs beneath his fingertips haunted him. He wondered…if he had not stopped, would she have allowed him to go further? If so, how much further?