Writing Mr. Right (20 page)

The promise of waking up in his bed so many times felt like heaven - and it terrified her.

“Get over here, woman.”

She shuddered at his words, unable to move from the spot.

“Do I have tae throw ye over my shoulder?”

She smiled, blushing. “Maybe.”

“Ye’d like that, wouldn’t ye?”

She furrowed her brow. “I’m so nervous.”

He cocked an eyebrow, but then he smiled. “Honestly, I am, too.”

“You are?’ She asked, and it was barely a whisper.

He stepped toward her. “I am.”

He stepped toward her, and she held her hands out before him, bracing. “I thought we were going to get dinner, walk around the city? Do touristy stuff!”

“We are. Just not right now.”

He held his hand out to her and curled his fingers, coaxing her forward. She took a couple steps, stopping just out of his reach. “I’m so fucking nervous, Garrett.”

“We’ve done this before. Hell, I’ve seen ye practically naked on Skype
this week
, what is there tae be nervous -?”

“Not helping!”

Her hand shot to cover her face, but he grabbed it and pulled her into him, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I’ve seen the faces ye make when ye touch yourself, ye ken? I know the sounds ye make when ye make yourself co -”

Georgia clutched him, hiding her face in the folds of his button down shirt. Everything he said was true, but somehow hearing him say it, his lips just inches from her ears, made her feel so exposed. They spoke to each other with such intimate abandon when they expressed their desire, but this wasn’t a sexted picture of her breasts to tease him while she was in the bathroom of a banquet hall in Vienna. This was his body solid against her, his lips against her ears, speaking an intention that his body would soon enact as he’d threatened over and over from hundreds of miles away.

“Do ye really think I’d last through dinner knowin what I had tae look forward to?”

“You could try, damn it.”

“And ye wearing that sexy dress of yours.”

She straightened, meeting his gaze. “It wasn’t meant to be sexy, it -”

“Oh please. I show up in jeans and a bloody sweatshirt and you’re the pretty little thing in her cowboy boots and -”

She swatted at him. “Don’t make fun of me.”

He pushed her against the bedroom door. “I’m not. I’m just sayin; I noticed.”

She pressed her palms flat against his chest, bracing herself far more than holding him at bay. He ran his hand over her hip.

Garrett loomed over her, his figure tall and solid. The curtains were still drawn from the night before, shutting out the gray light of late afternoon. He took hold of the hooded sweatshirt again, and with gentle hands, unzipped it. Georgia held her breath, her shaking hands wrapping over his. He slipped the sweatshirt off her shoulders and let his fingers graze the bare skin of her arm.

“God, I’ve been looking forward to this. It’ll be nice tae take my time, again.”

Georgia let her hands find his arm, then his fingers. “Shh,” she said, gasping as he brought his lips close to hers.

His kiss was more urgent this time, his lips opening to her, his breath catching in his throat as she responded. She returned the kiss, biting his lower lip to a groan of wicked approval. He slipped his fingers into her hair, his tongue piercing into her mouth. She returned the gesture and his breathing shifted, growing shallower, almost agitated. She unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, letting her fingertip touch the bare skin of his chest beneath.

Suddenly he straightened, searching her face as his eyes grew darker. “I need tae feel ye.”

Georgia hadn’t time to protest as Garrett turned her and pushed her back onto the bed. He stood there, tugging his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and unbuttoning it with such determination, she feared he might tear a button free. Then he pulled it open, letting it fall to the floor before lunging onto the bed over her. Georgia braced against him. He let her bear his weight, lowering himself onto her, planting one knee between her legs. She gasped at the sensation as he pushed her legs apart and lowered himself between them. Georgia turned her face away, afraid to let him see how easily his touch affected her.

He kissed her neck, then her jaw, seeking her mouth as his body settled into the contours of hers. “Kiss me.”

She gave a small whimper in protest as he nibbled her ear.

He began to move over her, subtle shifts in his weight. She swallowed, fighting to hide the effect something so small had on her. He kissed her jaw again, letting the movement grow more purposeful, pressing himself between her legs in rhythm. He kissed her ear again and pressed with purpose, letting her feel the rough fabric of his jeans, the jagged shape of the button and fly, and then something else beneath it all, long and hard, grinding against her through the folds of her skirts.

She forced the words out through gasps. “Garrett.”

“Mhmm?”

“I’m supposed to make you take me to dinner or something before this, aren’t I? I’m not supposed to -”

“Woman. You’ve seen me wank off two bloody days ago just thinkin about this. Dinner can fuckin wait!”

She laughed despite the growing purpose of his movements, then cried out as he planted his elbows at her shoulders and started grinding faster.

“Oh God.”

“And I only have ye for a week. I dinnae plan tae waste any time.”

She smiled, but quickly turned her face away, afraid to let him see her expression. Her face contorted against the pressure of his body. His rhythm was purposeful and exact and she was drawing close to orgasm from it. She didn’t want him to see.

And he would, he was watching her face with rapt interest. “Ye like that, don’t ye?”

She inhaled sharply, tugging at the blankets beneath her.

“I want tae see how many different ways I can make ye come.”

“Garrett!”

“Mmm,” he groaned, lifting himself so he loomed over her. His body shifted as he did, releasing some of the pressure of his body against hers. Without thinking, she reached down to his ass and pulled him against her. He bit her shoulder gently, humming his approval.

Her head fell back and her mouth opened, and she came, coaxed through by his hushed groans in her ear.

He turned her face to his and kissed her deeply, letting his movements slow as she released her death grip on his backside.

He pulled from her lips and smiled at her. “One down.”

Her face burned.

He slumped onto the bed beside her, taking a moment to look at her. “Remind me tae thank ye for wearin that dress.”

She laughed, but it was stifled by the sudden warmth of his hand slipping up the inside of her thigh. She shrieked, trying to hold it at bay, but he simply pulled his fingers from hers and tossed up the folds of her skirt to clear his way.

“Wait, please?”

His hand rest gently at the front of her underwear, enough for her to feel the warmth and weight of his hand, but nothing more.

He drew his lips close to hers. “Why?”

She paused. She didn’t have a reason save for nerves. However many times she’d let a man touch her before now, Garrett felt different. Part of her wanted to bite his chest and ravage him, but the stronger part of her wanted to savor every moment, draw it out somehow – as though there was an expiration date on this feeling.

When she didn’t answer, Garrett pressed his fingers against her, watching her reaction. She inhaled, but didn’t protest. He grinned, then kissed her, driving his tongue into her mouth as his fingers moved against her. Georgia curled her fingers in his shaggy hair and reached down between them, timid at first, despite the intimacy they shared. She pressed her hand to the hard shape beneath his jeans and kneaded him softly. He groaned into her mouth.

His reaction motivated her so suddenly, she moved with determination. They’d talked of their past over the weeks apart; of the miserable relationships, void of real love or passion, of the men who’d drawn on her heart just to dump it on the side of the road – of the women who punished him for wanting to be touched. The thought of this man going years without loving touch, with women who never made love to him, never ached to please him the way that she did – it fueled something ravenous in her She grabbed the button of his jeans and unfastened them, reaching her hand down the front of his boxers and taking hold of him with purpose. His fingers stilled against her as Georgia stroked the hard, smooth shape of him, watching his now closed eyes as his head fell back. She kissed the curve of his jaw, then his shoulder. Suddenly, he took hold of her wrist, and gently pulled her hand away. She searched his face for explanation. Had he not liked it? Did he not want her anymore?

“What’s wrong?”

He smiled, sheepishly. “It feels too good.”

Georgia reached for him again, but he stopped her. “That’s not a good thing?”

“Aye, it is, but makes it hard tae please ye when it takes all my attention tae no lose it.”

Georgia sat up on the bed as his hand moved up her thigh again. He teased at the hem of her underwear, but she held his gaze steady. “But I want to please you.”

Garrett closed his eyes. “God, ye don’t know what hearing ye say that does tae me.”

Georgia leaned into him, kissing his jaw. Then she whispered softly in his ear. “Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand
up
.”

Georgia moved to the edge of the bed, sitting with her feet on the floor. She gestured to him with playful impatience. He stared at her, his brow furrowed.

“Woman -”

“Do as you’re told,” she said, blushing.

He laughed at that, flashing her that grin she’d come to know so well; the one he flashed her from across the world on her computer screen or her phone; the one he offered just before they hung up, when he didn’t want to say goodbye – the one that took her breath away the day she walked into that tiny bookshop in Inverness. It was just as powerful after all those months.

Despite his playful glare, he did as he was told, rising to stand by the side of the bed, just inches from her. She grabbed the open fly of his jeans and tugged him closer to her.

He winced just enough to betray his own nerves. “Sweetheart, there’s nae chance I’ll last if ye do that.”

“Then you can have a Melvin.”

“A what?”

Georgia smiled, realizing he might not have such a phrase in his part of the world. “A Melvin? It’s a do over?”

He chuckled. “Ah, I see. We’ll be havin plenty of those this week, love.”

Georgia pulled his jeans down, and he startled. Then she pulled down his boxers, bringing the full shape of him into view. She’d seen it before, quite recently in fact, as he’d abused it during a rather intense skype session. Still, this three dimensional thing was far more impressive in person, springing with rigid expectation toward her. She took hold of him, lifting him out of the way, and pressed her open mouth to the sensitive skin of his balls. He whimpered and gasped, his head falling back. She moved slowly, watching up at him for response. His body shuddered and he exhaled as she sucked at him. He went from holding his breath to taking ragged inhales. “My God, what are ye doin tae me?”

She lapped at his thighs, noting the clean taste of him. She stopped a moment, meeting his gaze. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He smiled, curling his fingers in her hair. “Ye don’t have tae if ye don’t want -”

“I’ve been fantasizing about pleasing you like this for months.”

Weeks. She’d meant to say weeks.

He stared down at her a moment as she panicked, searching for a means to undo this confession. When one didn’t come, she simply returned to her work, hoping he wouldn’t realize she’d just confessed to thinking about him every day – every single day – since the moment they met.

“Georgia.”

The word was hoarse, little more than a whisper, but it broke her from her trance. She took a breath, then made herself smile up at him. “Yes, darling?”

He ran a thumb over her lips before returning his hand to her hair. “Will ye look at me when ye do it?”

Georgia smiled up at him and took him again, watching his focused, aching expression as he growled, and tightened his grip in her hair. He watched her, holding his breath, letting his hand in her hair urge her onward.

Suddenly, he pushed her onto her back, then dropped to his knees on the floor. He grabbed her legs beneath her skirts and yanked her ass to the edge of the bed. His open mouth was pressed to the front of her underwear before she could protest. He moved against her, letting her feel the pressure of his lips and his tongue, but not the heat of them. She gasped, taking her turn to clutch her fingers in his hair, and despite her shyness, watched him. His brow furrowed in concentration, he quickly hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear and tore them down the length of her legs, tearing off her boots and leaving the garment dangling at one ankle as he returned his mouth to its work. She gasped at the first touch of his tongue. He darted it about, pressing his whole mouth into her, gripping her around the thighs to pull her into him. She gasped and cried out, enjoying the sight of his stern expression, so focused on his task and oblivious to her watching. Suddenly, he glanced up, holding her gaze as he pressed his fingers against her, opening her to him. She turned away, shocked and almost mortified to have him catch her watching.

“Do ye like watching me?”

She shook her head, still averting her eyes. Her cheeks were on fire, and it was as though she couldn’t close her eyes tight enough.

He chuckled. “Come on, now. Look at me, just for a moment.”

Georgia swallowed and took a breath, then glanced down at him. He rewarded her by sliding his fingers into her, forcefully. She screamed, reaching down to his hands to still the sensation, but he kept his rhythm, grinning up at her. “Keep watching me.”

He clamped his mouth over her, his eyes trained up and on hers. She wanted to look away, felt so exposed to be seen watching him, to have him see how much she enjoyed watching him. Still, she couldn’t look away. She gripped her fingers in his hair and pulled him against her. His mouth worked with the fervor of a man who keeps his promises.