Writing Mr. Right (17 page)

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Authors: Michaela Wright

BOOK: Writing Mr. Right
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“Well, maybe if we get you out of these clothes?”

Garrett reached for the buttons of her shirt. She turned her face away, blushing, but she let him. He had her shirt open, running his hand along her side in an instant. Soon it was off completely, and he was starting on the button of her jeans. She swallowed, letting his hands slip down over her backside as he pulled them down. He pressed himself against her as he did, her hand on his chest. Despite the confidence of his hands, she could feel his heart was racing. Garrett pulled her jeans down, helping her step out of them before he stood to full height again. She was grateful for her optimistic trip to Inverness. She’d actually shaved her legs.

He took her by the hips and pulled her toward the bed, clad in just her black bra and underwear. Garrett dropped down and lay on his back. He reached for her, gesturing for her to climb onto him. She took a deep breath and did as he asked. His sporran dug into her thighs a bit and she shifted. Garrett unlatched it and tossed it across the room.

“I want you to ride me.”

“What?”

He smiled. “Aye. Take these off and ride me senseless.”

“But -”

He hooked a finger under the waistband of her panties and let them snap against her hip. She swatted at him, growing flushed.

“But what?” He asked, reaching behind her. He unlatched her bra and tugged it free, smiling at the sight of her desperately trying to shield her breasts from view. Her nerves were newly afire just as his seemed to leave him.

“I’ll be all on display though,” she said.

He chuckled beneath her, the rhythm of it shaking her on him. “That’s the point, ae?”

She imagined her breasts bouncing all over the place while he just lay there looking beautiful. Her face flushed.

“Or better yet, straddle my face first.”

She gasped. “Garrett!”

“Yes, Miss Writes-Sex-For-Millions? Do as you’re told.”

He grabbed her legs and pulled her, forcing her upward on him. She shrieked, but didn’t fight him. As he made her kneel over his handsome face, she held herself as high off him as she could, unable to willingly settle there as he demanded. His green eyes glared up at her, betraying the smile she couldn’t see. Then he lifted himself up, and pressed his open mouth to the front of her underwear. She tried to scream, but her breath caught in the sensation, and she simply whimpered. He hooked his arms around her hips and pulled her down onto him. Despite the fabric between his mouth and her sex, she could feel every flick of his tongue, the pressure playing at her precisely. She let her head fall back, and her hands fall away from her breasts. She settled her fingers into his hair and began to wriggle over him. He hummed his approval.

He pulled away for an instant, hooking his fingers under the fabric of her underwear and pulled them aside. Georgia screamed, trying to lift herself as the warmth of his mouth touched her, unhindered. He held her over him, pulling her down, forcing her weight onto him as his mouth moved. He began to rock her there atop him, making her ride his face.

Georgia couldn’t be quiet. He seemed triggered by the sounds she made, chuckling when she cried out. Finally, he pushed her back, letting her fall onto him. He grabbed the waistband of her underwear and tore them down the length of her legs. Then he tugged his kilt up and out of the way, yanking his boxers down. He grabbed her, pulling her against him, the two of them kneeling there on the mattress.

“I need ye so desperately, Georgia.”

He pressed his nose to hers again, searching her face, letting her smell the Guinness still on his breath. He kissed her then and it left her breathless, grabbing at her hips to hold her against him. Finally, he pulled her into position over him. She braced herself against his chest, her fingers brushing against the sparse, dark hairs there. He reached between them, directing his cock for her to lower herself onto him. She didn’t fight him anymore. She didn’t want to.

He lifted his hips to meet her, sliding inside her with a low, satisfied groan. She gasped, unable to watch him. She let her weight settle on him, letting him slide as deep as he could. He took hold of her backside, squeezing roughly, then pulled her, making her rock on him. She sighed at the sensation.

“My god, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Georgia sighed, still timid despite the slow movement of her hips. She planted a hand on his chest and lifted herself just so, then dropped back onto him. He took a sharp breath, blowing it out through pursed lips. She did it again, feeling his hands pull and push at her hips, showing her what he wanted.

“I almost forgot how good you feel,” he said, whispering.

Her face burned and she shushed him, only moving faster. “I didn’t.”

He moaned softly, a strange need hidden in its depths. Despite her initial trepidation, she felt a fervor at the way he responded – that his pleasure was her doing. That with each rise and fall of her body, his lips parted and his gaze intensified, or his eyes closed completely. If she wanted to, she could ride him to his finish, and there would be nothing he could do about it.

“Did ye miss me?”

Her face cracked with an almost pained smile. How could she ever express how much without betraying everything? She took hold of his hands, lifting them up and pinning them to the bed by his head.

He smiled at her, mischief in his eyes. “What do ye think you’re doing?”

She grinned, bracing herself against the sensation of him, and doubled her efforts, bouncing on him with such intensity that the whole bed began to shake, the headboard clapping against the wall. Garrett’s head fell back and he groaned, then went silent, holding his breath. His expression took on the air of near desperation and restraint. She loved looking at him – watching him. She’d done this very thing every night in her dreams.

“You’ve ruined me, woman,” he said, breathless.

Her legs were burning now, but she refused to stop.

He glared up at her. “Talk tae me.”

She smiled, but shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Aye, ye can. Talk tae me.”

She shook her head and before she could brace, he yanked his hands from her grasp and took hold of her breasts, clamping his hot mouth over her nipple. She shuddered and cried out, unable to keep her rhythm as the sensation of his mouth on her breast doubled the intensity of all other senses. She grabbed him by the hair, holding him to her breast as he sucked at her. It was clear who was at whose mercy. He moved to the other breast, shifting his hips beneath her to keep her moving. Yet, her legs were undone, thighs clenching around him as she felt herself growing close.

“Oh my god, you feel so good!”

He smiled. He could feel it. “That’s my girl.”

He locked his hands behind her lower back and pulled her down onto him, holding her as close as he could as he bucked his hips beneath her. She screamed at the sudden return of sensation, curling her fingers into the blankets by his head. He clutched her to him, his breath ragged against her ear. He moved with purpose, rising and falling beneath her as she gasped. Then she held her breath.

In that moment, she could hear him whispering in her ear, words so soft she almost couldn’t make them out. “Georgia. My Georgia.”

She melted over him with a desperate wail of release, her legs shuddering under her, her stomach muscles tightening to near pain. She clung to him as he continued to move, carrying her through the orgasm as it receded, then built anew, reaching an even higher crescendo. She couldn’t so much as whimper as he roared beneath her, finding his own release as her orgasm seared through her body, and receded again. He left her shaking and weak, crumpled atop him.

The two of them lay there, catching their breath. He kissed her ear, her jaw, stroked her hair, all between slowing breaths. When Georgia finally tried to move, it felt as though her legs were atrophied, leaving her bent and broken. Garrett gently rolled her onto her side as she gasped against the pain in her legs. His kilt was still rumpled between them, the plats folded over each other.

He slumped onto his back and rest his arm across his forehead. “Mother of God, woman.”

She smiled, laughing through her nose. “I believe the old adage of ‘you won’t walk right for a week’ may apply here.”

He smiled at that, leaning over to kiss her. He glanced at the clock. “What time is your flight, then?”

Georgia followed his gaze. It was just shy of 3AM. She sighed. “It’s at ten. Have to be there in five hours.”

Garrett turned his eye to her, his expression softening. “Do ye mind if I stay?”

She smiled and shook her head, hoping her face didn’t betray the world of emotions that surged within. Garrett hopped up from the bed and proceeded to unbuckle his kilt. He hung it over the back of her desk chair, stripped off his hose, and climbed into bed, holding the blankets up for her to join him. Despite the warm air of the hotel room, Georgia curled into him, the whole of his body pressed to hers. He wrapped his arm across her belly, pressing his knee to the back of hers, and pulled her against him, kissing her shoulder. Georgia felt the sleep of the dead coming – the sleep of the glorious, contented dead.

“I’ve thought about ye too, love.”

Georgia heard the words, but the weight of sleep stilled any notion of response.

 

***

 

Cassie rode in the front seat with the driver, leaving Garrett and Georgia in the back. The ride was uneventful, most of the conversation consisting of Cassie answering any questions the driver had. Garrett sat beside Georgia, his fingers curled in hers. They hadn’t spoken much that morning, stealing moments of intimacy in bed when they woke, then again in the shower, but the moments in between remained quiet, heavy with some unspoken thing. He wasn’t sure what her silence carried, but he knew his well – he didn’t want her to leave.

Georgia’s phone chimed in her pocket, and she snuck her hand away from his to check it.

She glanced down at it and smiled wide. “Told you so,” she said, almost to herself.

Cassie glanced back. “What is it?”

Georgia waved the phone. “Sam passed the bar.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! Tell her I said ‘congratulations!’”

Georgia stared down at her phone, smiling to herself a moment. Then she reached for Garrett’s hand again, silent.

They arrived at Edinburgh Airport and the driver pulled through the parking garage outside, dropping them just outside the terminal. The shorter man hopped out to retrieve their bags from the trunk, delivered them to Cassie and her waiting cart, then he glanced over at Garrett.

The driver smiled, nudging Georgia as she pulled a twenty pound note from her purse to give to him. “Told ye he’d turn up, ae?”

Georgia gave him a wide, but almost sad smile.

The driver beamed at her, oblivious. He took the tip, then nodded to Garrett. “I’ll take ye back tae town when yer ready, then, ae? Be parked right there.”

“Oh, that’s no necessary -”

“Already paid for,” Cassie said, turning her bag cart toward the crosswalk and the airport.

Garrett turned to Georgia, finding her smiling, though the expression was strange. He offered his arm to her and walked her into the airport.

Cassie was a diligent creature, and all the finer details were taken care of without Georgia’s involvement. They sat together, people watching and silent as Cassie tended to affairs. Georgia sat beside him, her arm clutching his, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. He turned and kissed her on the head, but each time he opened his mouth to speak, he stopped himself. What could he say? She had a life; she had every waking moment of that life planned for the foreseeable future. What good would some enamored idiot stuck in a book shop in Edinburgh do for her?

“Alright, you ready to go?”

Georgia inhaled sharply, and Garrett turned to
find her eyes were welling up.
“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

She shook her head, smiling, then glanced to Cassie.

“I’ll go get in line,” Cassie said, and left the two of them alone.

Georgia smiled at him. She forced a laugh. “Are you going to call this time?”

He stifled the saddest laugh. “You ken I will.”

With that, a tear rolled down her cheek.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there a moment. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I don’t want ye tae go either.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in the folds of his shirt. Garrett held her there as the world bustled around them, hundreds of people heading to all corners of the world, oblivious to the two people standing there, wanting nothing more than to grow roots there and not part. She hiccupped softly, and he realized she was trying not to cry. He could feel her tears saturating through his shirt. It startled him to see her so upset.

“I’m never going to hear from you again, am I?”

He took her face in his hands and turned her to look at him. From her side, he deserved this, and he knew it, but the memory of searching for her all those months and meeting with only disappointment – what could have happened between them had they found their way back to each other sooner?

The thought that she harbored this fear just about broke his heart. He met her eyes, sad and reddened now. “Rubbish. That’s absolute rubbish. Wild horses, as they say.”

She forced a smile, but he could see she didn’t believe him.

“Georgia, ye don’t know how hard I tried to get tae ye. For months, I was callin anyone who might get a message tae ye. Now, I’ve found ye – God, if I could, wouldna let ye leave.”

“Really?”

“Christ yes. And for fuck’s sake, if I can’t have ye here -” Garrett took a deep breath as he realized what he was about to say. “Christ, you’re gonna think Jenny was right and I’m a nutter, but -”

Cassie called over and Georgia’s lip trembled as she waved back. She was running late now. “What were you going to say?”

Garrett stared at her a moment, then decided. It would be better to be thought a nutter, than to never say it. “I could sell the shop. I’ve done it before. Come to Boston. People read in Boston. Not many, I know. It
is
America.”

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