“I’m sorry,” he said honestly. “I can’t explain why I go places. But I’m very much here, with you.” The words weren’t the hottest he’d ever uttered to a woman, but fuck, they took him to a place of connection he’d never really allowed himself to go. It fucking terrified him. She had the power to undo him and didn’t even know it.
Her eyes met his, the stare potent. They undressed him as they always did, and not in the physical sense. She saw straight through him. No, straight into him. Nervously, he met her there.
Georgia nodded once. “Good,” she said as her hands made their way to the button of his jeans and popped it open.
Fuck, those fingers of hers so close to his cock threatened to be his undoing. But he wanted to feel her too. He reached for her jeans and matched her achingly slow movements, lowering the zipper. He gasped as her fingers wrapped themselves around his cock. She moaned as his fingers slipped past the waistband of her underwear and reached her drenched folds.
“Fuck, Gia,” he said. He didn’t know what to focus on. The way she ground against him, his finger slipping inside her wetness as she clenched him tight. Or the way he knew he was leaking pre-cum like a fucking teenage wet dream as she worked him up and down with her hand.
“Lennon,” she gasped, reaching for his wrist and wrapping her hand tightly around it. She held him exactly where she wanted him as she took what she needed.
It was fucking hot, and in appreciation he slid another finger inside her. But it was the way those dark eyes were fixed on his, the way her cheeks were stained pink, that squeezed his heart.
His breath caught in his chest as he watched her move. It was slow and steady with a heady undertone of desperation to let go.
“Do it, Gia. Take whatever you need from me to get off,” he encouraged, feeling his balls tighten as she squeezed her hand around his dick in a rhythm that matched her own.
“Lennon,” she gasped, her eyes going wide as she tightened around him, her moves frantic as she wrung out the rest of her orgasm.
He couldn’t say why the sight of her coming on his fingers reached so far down inside him that he’d never be the same again, but he felt it as surely as he felt her wet warmth around him.
She flopped down onto his chest without giving him a chance to move his arm. It was intimate to be still with her that way, his fingers still inside her. But he wanted to wrap his arm around her, hold her until her breathing returned to normal. Gently, he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to his lips. She tasted sweet, and he couldn’t wait for the moment when she let him go down on her to see just how much more pleasure he could wring from her with his mouth.
As the lift and fall of her shoulders slowed, he ran his hand up and down the gentle curve of her spine. For the first time in his life, he was content to lie there in the quiet rather than chase his own end.
But then her mouth began to move against his skin, small kisses at first until her tongue began to trace circles around his nipple. He resisted the urge to wind her hair around his fingers and gently ease her down his body. Instead he placed his hand behind his head and watched her confident movements. She gently used her teeth against his skin in a move that made him flinch yet made him want her to do it all over again. Her hand slid along the ridges of his ribs and along his abs, the actions gentle, reverent even. For the first time in his life, he felt somebody appreciate him and his body for what they were.
Tentatively, her fingers lowered his jeans over his hips, and he clenched his stomach at the way they tickled against his sensitive skin. As he did, Georgia looked up at him and grinned. The little minx knew what she was doing and was determined to drive him crazy.
“Georgia,” he warned, but she returned her focus to her actions.
When her fingers gripped his cock, he groaned. Goddamn it felt good. He’d never made eye contact during sex—couldn’t—but he wanted her to look at him, wanted to see that look in her eyes that would tell him she felt what was happening between them.
And she did, a mere moment before she opened that fucking perfect mouth of hers so she could run the tip of her tongue around his leaking, desperate cock. Watching her taste him, savor him, with a look that promised him so much more had him harder than he felt was possible.
Every time his abs tightened, it pulled across his shoulders and tugged at his arm, but he wouldn’t change a single fucking thing. He gripped his own hair as he battled the need to hold her exactly where she was and thrust into that soft, warm welcome.
Instead he watched as she licked across his slit, watched as she tasted what he so wanted to give her. Watched as she opened her mouth wide to embrace him, sucking him deep.
“Fuck, Gia,” he groaned, unable to stop the lifting of his hips. He wanted more, needed more. But for once in his life, he wanted to take things slow. He wanted to get to know everything about the woman who looked up at him as she let his cock slide out of her mouth, only to lower her eyes and take him again.
Lips tightened around him as she sucked, the sensation driving him crazy
Unable to stop himself, he placed his hand against her cheek. Georgia let him slide out of her mouth but added her hand, moving up and down slowly as she turned and kissed his palm.
“You taste so good,” she whispered quietly, and he stared at her, unable to put words to feelings. They were stuck. Again. He was going to say something stupid. His chest tightened as a wave of panic washed over him. It was too close, too intimate, so in the moment with her that he felt terror. A cold sweat broke out over his skin.
“It’s okay,” she added. “Let me make this good for you.”
That should be his line. He should be taking care of her. He was the guy, the rock star. He wanted to be her fucking hero, and here he was falling apart because she’d taken his dick in her mouth.
His throat tightened.
He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t be here.
He needed anonymous.
He needed unconnected.
He needed . . .
“Fuck,” he groaned, as she lowered her mouth over him again. This time tighter, harder, faster.
Her cheeks hollowed as his heartbeat triple time. Her tongue ran up his length as his hand tightened on the back of her neck. Her hair tickled his thighs as his balls tightened.
“Gia,” he urged, “unless you want me to come in that sweet mouth of yours, I’m gonna need you to move.” He slid his hand over hers to encourage her to squeeze him tightly.
She popped him out of her mouth and brought her eyes to his as she continued to slide her hand up and down his length.
And as he came, his hot semen splashing his stomach and chest, he stared into the eyes of the first woman he’d ever fallen for.
CHAPTER NINE
“Dylan, how are you?” Georgia said as she answered her cell phone while simultaneously trying to juggle her files and let herself into her office. It had been a while since she’d heard from her old college friend who’d transferred to a large hospital in London three years earlier.
“I’m good. Things are crazy busy here. With the whole Brexit thing, we’re having to put all kinds of plans in place for all the nurses who’ll probably leave and go back to Europe. But the hospital is fantastic.”
“That’s great to hear. And how is Olivia?” Georgia dumped the files onto her desk, wincing as the manila folders slid off one another and slithered across the surface, then carefully placed the little bag of three cookies that Lennon had insisted she bring for her first coffee break next to her monitor. His suggestion had been sweet and thoughtful and . . . normal.
“Well, she’s now my fiancée . . . as of New Year’s Eve, so I would say she’s great. I popped the question while we were skiing in Switzerland.”
Georgia grinned, genuinely happy for her friend despite the twinge of envy that skittered through her. “Congratulations,” she said. “I’m so thrilled for you. When’s the wedding?”
“Next summer. I hope you’
ll come. In fact, I’m hoping I can persuade you to come out here even sooner.”
She sat down in her chair and swiveled to look out of the small window. It faced onto the brick wall of the building next to hers, but for some reason, it still made the space feel bigger. “Am I going to like this?” she asked.
Dylan laughed. “Well, that depends. Do you like fall?”
“Fall?”
“Yes, because England feels like late fall in New York all year round. It’s rarely hot or freezing cold, generally overcast, and has a decent probability of rain. There’s a world-class hospital here in the land of perpetual New York fall, and we have an opening in pediatric neurology. You are the only person I want to fill it.”
Georgia’s ego soared as her heart sank. To be wanted for her skills was a wonderful thing. It was what she’d dreamed of. But she was a Starr of New York, and despite her threats to her father, she loved her home. She loved the red curtains and the small stage and eloquent jazz of Village Vanguard over on Seventh Avenue. She loved the way the first snowfall over Central Park made New York look like a ginormous snow globe. And the hospital, her friends, her colleagues, each and every patient under her care. And Lennon. . . . She shook her head. It was way too early in their fledgling relationship for him to factor into such a momentous decision.
“Wow. That’s quite the invitation, Dylan. You didn’t feel like leading up to that? A bit more small talk perhaps?”
She could hear Dylan chuckle at her response. In a completely non-romantic way, his laugh had always been her very favorite thing about him, but it paled in comparison to Lennon’s throaty laughter. It certainly didn’t stir things in her that Lennon’s deep reverberations did. “I know you, remember. A direct approach is good. Catching you off guard is even better. Less time for you to think, making it more likely you’ll give an honest rather than a rehearsed, answer.”
He was correct of course. The more time she had to prepare, the slicker and smoother her reply would become.
“Before you answer, I want to walk you through it. Please listen to me first, perhaps even fly over for a visit and see what I am talking about. I think you’ll really enjoy the surgical freedoms you get here, and I swear it’s a kick-ass team. You can talk to anyone you want to here, especially those who support the kind of surgeries you do.”
Georgia spun back to face her desk and looked at all the photos on the walls. All the kids she’d helped with different neurological conditions. The conjoined twins that she’d assisted in separating.
“I have to be honest, Dylan. I love it here. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”
There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Is that Georgia talking, or the latest in the long line of Starrs of New York?”
She wanted to be mad that it even mattered, that he’d called her out. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was a bit of both.” The idea that her family legacy rested squarely on her shoulders wasn’t healthy, nor was it accurate. Two of her brothers were still here, Randall could always return from Atlanta, and her father was too stubborn to die any time soon. And hell, she could always come back should things change. Call her old-fashioned, but there was something reassuring about knowing New York was her place on the planet.
But she’d also be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge the control her father still had over her. Because her father’s dreams for her had always lined up with her own for herself, she hadn’t noticed the pathological need she had for his approval. And she knew he would not approve of this.
“Listen,” Dylan said, “it’s a bigger hospital, a better role, and I can beat your current salary by at least twenty percent.”
“How the heck do you know how much I earn?”
“You didn’t think I’d enter into a negotiation with you without coming armed with facts. I know this is going to be a hard sell, but as you know, I can be persistent. We have the permission of Jim Stein, the head of the hospital, to approach you.”
Now it was Georgia’s turn to laugh. He could be persistent, she knew that. It had taken months of effort on his part to get her to agree to work with him on a project together at college, but she had enjoyed every moment, and their friendship had formed in the process. “I would have thought my salary information was confidential.”
“Look. Take a weekend. Come see me and Olivia. We’ll chat. At least tell me you’ll think about it.”
How could she not? “Fine. I’ll think about it, and if I can get my head around it, I’ll call you to discuss it.”
There was a knock at her office door, and then Robert Woo popped his head in. She held up one finger and motioned him inside. Ever the comedian, Robert tiptoed ridiculously with his finger over his lips.
“I can live with that. But if I don’t hear from you within four weeks, I’m getting on a plane and ambushing you somewhere you least suspect it.”
Georgia grinned. “I look forward to it. Bye Dylan.”
“Bye, G.”
The phone disconnected.
“So, what has put that smile on your face?” Robert asked, picking up the photo of her and her brothers from her desk and looking at it. Like he did every single time he set foot in her office.
Nobody needed to know the nature of her call. At least, not yet, when there was nothing to tell other than a crazy idea to move halfway around the world, which was not even close to becoming a reality. “Call from an old friend with some good news. He’s getting married.”
Robert shivered. “Ugh. Poor soul. Why on earth do people continue to rely on matrimony? It serves no purpose except to line lawyers’ pockets with pre-nups.”
This was a point on which she normally agreed, not because she truly believed what Robert said, but because saying so covered her hurt and disappointment at not having found someone to settle down with. It was ridiculous for someone as accomplished as she was in her professional life to want to be someone else’s other, but she did. Badly. Today, after the weekend she’d spent with Lennon, it hurt to pretend that it didn’t matter. This weekend had shown her more about the kind of relationship she wanted in her life. With a man happy to bake cookies. A man happy to make out without needing to have sex. . . . Well, okay, they’d skated pretty damn close to sex, but they still hadn’t had the penetrative kind. Her cheeks heated as she thought of all the delicious things they had done.
She looked at the pile of reports on her desk that needed her attention because she’d baked cookies, and made out, and dozed on the sofa. Something about being around Lennon made her forget about responsibilities.
“What can I help you with?” she asked Robert.
“I have a thought for the direction of our paper on the twins.” He didn’t need to explain which twins; there was only one set worth the effort of a paper. “And I need a date for my cousin’s wedding. My mom is threatening to cut me out of the will if I show up alone, so she told me to ask you to bring me. ‘Take pity on his pathetic ass.’ Those were her exact words.”
Having met his mom, she could believe it. And it wouldn’t be the first time Georgia had helped him out. Their relationship was purely platonic on both ends, but somehow, even though there was nothing going on between them, it would feel wrong to accompany him, would feel as if she was being disloyal to Lennon.
“You know, I’m not sure I can,” she said without opening her calendar.
“It’s the third Saturday in May. I’ll trade whatever shifts and cases you want this month just to keep her happy.”
Georgia knew it wasn’t the cost of getting there or the threat of being him written out of the will that mattered. Robert’s father had died the previous year, and as an only and well-loved child, he was anxious to help his mom out any way he could.
She wanted to help, she really did, but Lennon was . . . new . . . special. Crap. “I’m sorry, Robert, but I’ve just started . . . well, there’s a guy. And it wouldn’t be right for me to say yes when I have this new thing.” It was difficult to begin to articu
late what was going on between her and Lennon. They’d had no conversations about a future, or whether they were officially even a couple. But damn, whatever they were together, this was something that didn’t come along every day. Even if they only lasted as long as it took him to realize he should be back with his friends in Toronto, she would savor the little window of “normal.”
“Ugh. Then I’m stuck with accompanying my mom’s goddaughter from Cleveland.”
Georgia grinned. “You have something against girls from Cleveland? Or Cleveland in general?”
“Georgia, I’ve got a thing against the entire Midwest. Flat, industrial, pedestrian. And that’s just the women.”
She shook her head. Certain New Yorkers had it in their heads that they were the center of the universe and thought that anyone who chose not to live in the metropolis were somehow lacking or deficient in social skills. “That’s very parochial of you.”
“Indeed. But it hasn’t escaped my attention that you said there’s a guy.”
Immediately her thoughts went to Canada, a country she lived so close to but had never visited. Why were all of her thoughts centered around Lennon? She needed to focus on topics that wouldn’t remind her of him—at least while she was at work. “I know I did, but it’s way too early to say more. So, the article. What can I help you with?”
After eleven hours—and several more reminders of Lennon—Georgia exited the subway. The night air was crisp and clear, and Georgia tugged her scarf tighter around her neck. It was a lovely evening for a walk, perhaps a late dinner if he hadn’t eaten yet. She wondered if she could persuade Lennon to join her.
She passed a family who were laughing at a pigeon walking in circles around a garbage bin. It was innocuous, barely even funny, but the toddler was in hysterics, the parents laughing at the child’s reaction. Moments like that seemed so very precious and yet so far out of reach for her. What kind of father would Lennon be? It was a stupid thought, the kind a loved-up eighteen-year-old would think. But she couldn’t stop herself. He’d be fun, she concluded, their house filled with music and instruments. Their child would be a product of both the sciences and the arts.
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