by Julie Bale
I can handle her.
She jumped up from my bed, her short plaid skirt barely covering her ass and from the little peek I got I was guessing she was commando. Some things never changed. She hugged me fiercely. “You have to come with and I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ll throw down with Matt if he gets in our way.” She licked her lips and poked her hips into me suggestively. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind throwing down with Matt.”
“Ew.”
“No, really. I bet he’d be great in bed.”
I screwed up my face and pushed Kendall away. “Calm down. He’s in the Cape.”
“Oh,” she grinned. “Well, then you don’t have an excuse to say no. So get your ass dressed and let’s head out.”
I exhaled and took a few steps back, needing a bit of perspective—needing to get away from Kendall’s black hole of decadence. “I don’t know. I…”
A red flash caught my eye and I grabbed my cell phone off my dresser and glanced at a text from Ben. We’d exchanged numbers the day before but I hadn’t expected to hear from him.
Hadn’t expected, but was kinda sorta wanting to. My stomach did this weird lurching thing though it faded as I quickly read his message.
Hey. Presenting offer now. I’ll be late. Don’t miss me 2 much.
I stared at the message for a few seconds, and then glanced at Kendall. Her eyes softened for a bit, the dark charcoal beneath them crinkling in the corners. “Come on, Georgie. It’s been forever.” She glanced around. “Besides, why the hell would you want to stay here when you can be with me kicking it down?”
I bit my bottom lip, fingering my cell for a few moments before tossing it back onto the dresser. Things started to bubble inside me and I exhaled, fisting my hands for a second while everything ran fast. And then stopped. I waited, breath held, for it to start again.
“Hey, are you alright?”
I nodded, not really thinking that I was alright, but not wanting to talk about it either. Chin thrust forward, I glanced at my closet, my eyes falling onto the ice blue boat neck dress I’d bought just before my incarceration. It still had the tags on it.
I’d forgotten how gorgeous the fabric was. Oh, and the color…it sure would look great with my Steve Madden’s.
Kendall tugged on my arm, her face scrunched into an exaggerated pout and I giggled. “Come on, Georgie.”
A smile opened on my face and my hand inched toward the dress as the pressure inside me eased a bit. “Okay,” I said as Kendall squealed. “But just so you know I don’t drink anymore.”
“Whatever.”
“And I don’t do weed or coke either.”
She nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“And we’re not going home with random guys.”
She flopped back down onto the bed. “Gotcha.”
I glanced down and frowned. “Are you going to put some underwear on or what?”
Her grin widened as she cocked her head to the side. “Now why in the hell would I want to do that?”
Shit.
Chapter Nine
Ben
Kachenga was the kind of bar you’d expect to find somewhere on the sunset strip in Hollywood. It reminded me of The Whiskey a bit—not exactly a dive but not exactly respectable either. It was dark, loud and crowded, and by the time I arrived it was close to midnight.
I was lucky to get in—The Rats were an up and coming indie band and even though I was more of a straight up rock kind of guy—I preferred Foo Fighters or Five Finger Death Punch—I’d heard of them. The place was packed and the lineup was discouraging and even though I said I’d never be that dude who used his celebrity, I was willing to do just about anything if it meant getting inside and being with Georgia.
I would have sent her a text but my damn phone was dead and I was hoping she was still here because she wasn’t back at the loft. I hadn’t spoken to her since she’d replied to my text hours earlier and told me she was heading out to Kachenga with her friend.
My teeth clenched at the thought. She hadn’t elaborated on who exactly her friend was and I wasn’t sure what my plan was going to be if I found her here with a guy—who I was assuming would be that fucking Seamus the cat character. Would I pretend I didn’t see her, slide through the crowd and leave without saying anything? Or would I walk right up to her and make that play, the one that had me careening down center ice with a target in sight.
Georgia was my fucking target and I had it bad.
So, here I was, hands in my pocket and shoulders hunched forward like some loser when a, bunch of girls strolled by and saved me. Teetering on ridiculous heels the once closest to me, a blonde with tits about two sizes too big for the dress she was wearing, slurred, “you’re coming with us.”
Normally, I would have sidestepped, made an excuse and waited because they were that drunk, but I was desperate and if anything I was an opportunist.
We bypassed the lineup—and by we, I meant the blonde and her enormous rack. The doorman waved us in, nodding to me and smiling at the girls while the one on my arm tried to blow the guy a kiss. But she was so wasted I had to hold on tight or she would have been on her ass for sure.
As soon as we were inside it was easy to disengage myself—I was stone cold sober and she was not, yet even so blondie grabbed my ass and went for the kill. I managed to deflect a hand aimed at my dick and got the hell away from them.
What the fuck was wrong with these girls?
The place was filled with hot, sweaty bodies moving to the heavy, hypnotic beat the bass player laid down as he stood on top of the monitors near the stage. The singer stood beside him rapping about fucking and sucking—how original. I immediately headed for the bar and thought that it was going to take a miracle to find Georgia in here.
For all I knew she was already gone, and frustrated, I ordered a beer and leaned against the edge of the bar as I slowly moved my eyes over the room. I had way too much pent up energy for this place and the energy was making me crazy. It was hard. Aggressive.
I rolled my shoulders trying to ease the tension I felt, while ignoring the suggestive looks from a few of the ladies dancing near the edge of the crowd.
My foot tapped the floor impatiently and I swallowed half the bottle in one gulp and groaned when I saw the group of girls I’d walked in with. They had followed me over to the bar and the drunken blonde was trying to get my attention.
I kept my eyes averted, which probably wasn’t a smart thing because if the blonde did a sneak shot for my cock, I’d be wide open.
Where the hell was Georgia?
Irritated, I finished my beer in another long gulp and set it on the bar. I moved through the crowd, enjoying the music a bit more now that the guy had stopped chattering about getting laid and the guitarist was sending out some tasty stuff. The heavy bass riff touched all of us, and it vibrated against the back of my teeth as I exhaled and ran my hands through my hair in agitation.
It was then that I saw her.
She glanced up and our eyes met. Even though we were in the middle of this hot mess it felt like there was only the two of us. And just like in the movies, you know the scene, the one when the music dive bombs and everything goes slow-motion, fades to gray and comes to a standstill? The one where the girl and the guy finally realize they belong together?
Yeah. I had one of those—a total fucking chick-flick moment.
Some guy fell into me and cussed me out when I shoved him out of the way. I didn’t break eye contact. Hell, I don’t even think I breathed. All I saw was Georgia.
She leaned against a table, wearing a hot blue dress that showed a hell of a lot of leg along with a pair of come-fuck-me shoes, high spiky things that inspired more than a few ideas.
I decided I would let her keep them on when I finally had her alone and naked.
Because that’s where we were headed.
I knew it—and as she swiped her tongue along her bottom lip and stared back at me—I could tell that she knew it too.
Sh
e pushed off from the table, her long hair swinging around her shoulders, her eyes so huge and shiny—so fucking alive—I swear she could see right inside me. Some guy was chatting her up but I didn’t give a shit. As I approached her mouth opened slightly and I shoved my way past him, slid my hands along either side of her face and dipped my head. I kissed her as if I was starving and she let me.
She tasted like peppermint.
She felt like fucking heaven.
Georgia opened beneath me and made a sound at the back of her throat that was so primal, so goddamn urgent, I felt like pounding my chest. I was ready to go all Tarzan on her and that was something I’d never experienced before.
Her arms slid around my waist and she pressed herself against me, every soft curve melting into my body like she was meant to be there. I kissed her long and hard, my eyes open and so were hers.
The music pounded us from all sides, burning into us, throbbing along every cell in my body. The smell of sex and lust, stale beer and weed filled the air and slid over us. It was a heady mixture and an ache formed inside me, one that was hot and hard.
I groaned and slid one of my hands down her back so that I could grip her ass, and I pulled her in so that there was no way for her not to know how fucking turned on I was.
She made that noise again and when I slid my mouth along the side of her neck I heard her whisper, “You have to dance with me.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
Her hands slid into my hair and she whispered near my ear. “I’ve been waiting all night for you. The least you can do before you get me naked is take me out there and dance with me.”
Naked?
Her words were like fire in my brain and I was so hot for her I couldn’t speak.
I grabbed her hand, elbowed my way through the crowd until we were in the middle of a hot pit of lust and music. This wasn’t my thing—I wasn’t the guy who liked to shake his ass and pull some moves but right now? With that look in her eye? If Georgia King asked me to do the fucking chicken dance I would.
The guitars and drums crashed over us as the lights lowered.
The beat changed into something slow and sensual and just as I was thinking, ‘hell yes my ass is saved’, Georgia’s hands crept up my shoulders and she began to move against me. Real, slow and sexy.
I pulled her close and buried my head in her hair, inhaling that summery scent I thought would probably drive me crazy until I was old half dead. This moment, right now, was something I’d never forget…the way she felt, the say she smelled, and as she cupped my face and stared up into my eyes, I knew I would never forget how beautiful she was. How much my body ached in anticipation.
I wanted her for myself and to hell with whoever the fuck she’d come here with. That thought made me frown and her forefinger trailed along my jaw until she slid it between my lips.
I bit her, lightly, and she arched an eyebrow, her hips and that sweet spot between her legs pushing into me as she did so.
“Where is he?” I asked roughly, face flushed and tense at the thought of her with someone else. Which was kind of ridiculous considering she wasn’t exactly my girlfriend. I didn’t know what she was, but the one thing that I was real clear on was that whatever this thing between us was, it wasn’t neat and tidy, or casual.
“Who?”
I sucked on her finger but didn’t smile when I heard her groan. There was nothing smiling about me at the moment. I sucked harder and watched her eyes widen, before I let her finger slip from my mouth. “Sylvester the fucking cat.”
I knew in that moment I sounded like a jealous teenager, but I didn’t give a shit. She was the hottest thing in the entire place and the thought of her looking like that for someone else drove me crazy.
She didn’t say a word and I wished she’d answer because I was starting to feel like an immature asshole. I was sixteen all over again.
“Seamus?” she asked lightly. “Are you jealous?”
“Fucking right I am,” I answered without skipping a beat.
She licked her lips and I settled her against me, one hand still on her ass, the other at the back of her head. My erection was hard and heavy and she felt it. I made sure of it.
She stared up into my eyes as the music continued to fall over us. As the couple next to us basically had sex, the guy’s hands up her shirt while she grinded herself against his thigh.
Georgia’s chest heaved and I knew she felt the same. I thought of her words the day before, “I feel you,” and it felt like I was coming apart.
When had a girl ever gotten me to feel like this?
Never.
Slowly she reached for me and when her soft mouth slid across mine, I fucking saw stars. No joke. I think if she wasn’t wrapped around me I would have fallen to my knees, or passed out from sheer anticipation of what would come next.
She nibbled her way up to my ear and whispered, “I came with my friend Kendall, who happens to own a vagina, so you don’t have to worry.” She did this slow, torturous roll of her hips and I inhaled sharply because it felt like my dick was going to explode.
“Ben,” she said, a touch of rasp in her voice.
“Yeah,” I managed.
“What about Matt?”
“Fuck, Matt. We’re not teenagers.”
She rubbed herself against me one last time, like she was a cat, and it was almost too much. “Ben,” she said again.
“Yeah.” I pulled back so I could see her clearly.
Her hair looked like long, silky strands of black ink and it was everywhere, her mouth was wet and open and her eyes were direct.
“Take me home so we can get naked.”
She didn’t have to ask twice.
Chapter Ten
Georgia
We stumbled out of Kachenga, Ben holding my hand as we walked toward his rental. Thank God it was parked just a few blocks away because my legs were trembling, and the only thing that was keeping me on my feet was Ben—and the shot of adrenaline that was currently letting off sparks everywhere.
My thoughts wandered. They wandered to places that were delicious and exhilarating and hot.
Naked. Me naked with Ben. Ben naked with me. Over me. In me.
My mouth watered at the thought and I tripped over my feet, but he caught me and didn’t break stride.
We didn’t speak on the way home. I think Ben mumbled something about the temperature but I just nodded. It could have been as cold as the Arctic inside his truck, but I was as hot as hell.
Everything inside me was tight and fragile and filled with need. It had been so long since I’d been with anyone that I was scared. Me, the girl who less than a year ago would fuck pretty much anyone she wanted. Back then, I fucked just to fuck.
This was different—Ben was different—and that’s what scared me. It wasn’t the fact that I’d only known him for less than a week, stuff like that doesn’t bother me too much. I mean, I’d had more than a few one night stands, but who hasn’t? I don’t judge.
But, back then I’d been reckless with my body, A) because I felt above it all, as if I could do anything without consequence. And B) I didn’t form an emotional bond with anyone so sex was never about a connection, it was about the moment. It was about getting off and feeling alive...in that moment. It was never about what happened after.
Seamus told me it was because of my condition. That it was common for people with bipolar to be, promiscuous, (a word I fucking hate.) I didn’t consider myself to be promiscuous. I was a girl who liked to have a good time, and I was a girl who liked to have a good time without any strings.
End of story.
I suppose I could have been a little more selective and steered clear of Matt’s boys. But in my defense, there was something insanely hot about hockey players and at the time I was if anything, slightly insane.
So for a while there I was goodtime Georgia, however, I wasn’t dumb and I wasn’t reckless with my safety. I’d never had sex without a condom. Ever. And a few of the
guys I’d been with? I’d made them double up because they were whores.
STD’s are nasty shit and the last thing I wanted was to own a defective vagina. That and the fear of pregnancy kept my drawer filled with condoms. I can’t even tell you how many girls I know had had abortions and some more than once. I didn’t get it. It was easy to own your own body these days and to be responsible for every part of it.
But this thing with Ben was different and I was scared because I already felt a connection to him and it was that connection that I craved. What if Ben was just into the sex? Would I be able to handle that? Would I be able to handle being the one left behind?
And why the hell was I feeling like this about a guy I had just met? When had that ever happened to me before? Answer?
Never.
I glanced at him, and instantly my heart took off, running to a beat of want and need and something else. I didn’t want to think too much about the something else so I pushed everything aside and sent Kendall a text.
I basically told her that if she showed up at the loft I would have to kill her.
Her response: u getting laid?
Mine: hope 2
Hers: Shit, Georgie I had the singer 4 me and guitarist lined up 4 u
Mine: you can have them both.
Hers: cool beans. ttyl.
I cracked a smile but it faded when we pulled up to Matt’s building and Ben handed the keys over the garage attendant. We walked inside, still no words between us, and we waved to Eric who was the night guy on our way to the elevators.
It felt like a long ride up though I knew it was less than twenty seconds, but my knees were knocking together so badly I’m sure a moron could have tapped danced to the beat. My stomach rolled and damn, it was hot. So, so, hot.
The elevator slid to a halt and Ben grabbed my hand, yanking me after him as if we were late to an important meeting….or sex romp. He had the spare key Matt had given him in the door before I could even grope for mine in my purse.
And then we were inside and there was nothing to stop us from doing exactly what it is we both wanted to do.