Georgie felt a dense heat gathering in her core. His instinctive sensuality and his awareness of the touches she enjoyed were so precise. She wondered if he was a mind reader, or if her signals were so obvious. She was in bliss, savoring every moment of this voyage of discovery, this idyll. In fact, she couldn’t imagine anything intruding on it.
“Jason ... your gig ...” Cal interjected when he saw the two of them begin to sway, their bodies following the rhythm of the song together.
“Yes, yes.” Jason gave Georgie’s cheek a gentle kiss and threw the boa over her shoulder before turning toward the door.
* * * * *
Jezebels had the kind of debauched atmosphere that was sheer kink. Georgie loved it. Dance music chugged out through the crowded hallway, beckoning them deeper into the interior. Everyone dressed distinctly in an urge to outshine one another. Club wear mingled with leather and bondage, chic with gutter trash, cyber, and fetish gear. The place was a wonderful menagerie; nothing seemed out of place.
They moved through the main part of the venue and into the smaller performance room, the jazz suite. It was a slightly more discreet version of the other room, with a long bar and tables lit by candlelight that reflected in the mirrored walls that surrounded them. When he saw Jason, a bouncer ushered them over to a reserved table near the small stage. Jason smiled his acknowledgment, a little more subdued now in his role as the serious musician. When they sat down, Cal selected them each a cocktail from the house menu.
Georgie looked at Cal over the top of her tall glass. He looked charming, and yet that dark undercurrent was always hovering there, keeping her curiosity about him on edge. Catching her glance, he smiled and lifted her fingertips to his lips. When Jason noticed, he laughed and took her other hand to his mouth. Each touch was so intimate, yet so different. Onlookers glanced over the three of them with open curiosity.
Jason politely suffered a stream of admirers eager to talk and hear him play. He was obviously much better known as a performer than Georgie had been aware of, and she listened to the fans’ comments with interest. Cal looked on, observing the people and their comments discreetly, his fingers gently stroking his beard.
Georgie scanned the place. A woman on the stage was singing a throaty jazz ballad. She wore black satin hipsters and an evening jacket. It hugged her perfect body like liquid. She had nothing beneath the jacket, and her breasts moved gently against the material as she swayed to her own song, the soft, mobile flesh threatening to sneak free but never quite doing so. Her hair was short and black, sleeked back, giving her a feline look. She directed her song at a fluffy blonde woman in the audience. Her lover, plainly. The blonde alternately blushed and leaned into her words, lips parted with pleasure at the attention.
Georgie was still smiling about it as she continued looking around. When she saw a familiar face, her smile disappeared.
“Oh ... damn!”
Cal noticed and looked in the direction of her gaze. The man was walking toward them, his glacier-green eyes focused on Georgie as he approached. He glanced briefly at her companions before he spoke.
“Georgie. Well, hello. I heard that you were in the city. Then I saw that photo of you in the Tattler this morning, doing your catwalk thing.” He threw a curt glance at Cal, assuming he was her companion. “I thought I’d look you up sometime, but here you are. How perfect.”
Georgie shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. The last thing she’d thought the fashion show shoot would bring to her was Richard, her ex.
“Hello, Richard,” she snapped, flushing with annoyance.
Cal stood up, offering his hand to the other man. “Calvin Rolf. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
The man took his hand reluctantly, giving it the merest hint of a shake before his fingers returned to adjust the collar of his shirt, dismissively.
“No, we haven’t met.” He didn’t offer his name.
Cal turned back to Georgie, but all she could do was look away and stare at the table, lips pursed in annoyed silence.
“Shall we dance, Georgie, before our friend plays?” Cal’s voice soothed her immediately.
What a perfect idea. She glanced at Jason. He was deep in conversation with a group of three at the next table. There were a handful of couples dancing to the piped jazz music that punctuated the performances. She stood up, smiled warmly at Cal, and took the outstretched hand. They left the table without a backward glance at the man who stood behind them, watching with a bitter expression.
Cal claimed her in a swift but subtle move, taking her into his arms on the dance floor.
She sank into him, her feet following the music without thought. She was too unsettled to know what song was playing.
“An ex?” Cal asked, against her ear.
“Was it that obvious?”
“Let’s just say the atmosphere turned icy.” He drew back and smiled at her.
“I was surprised to see him, although I don’t know why. He often spends time in London. I guess bumping into him sooner or later was inevitable. He’s from Randlethorpe, my home in Gloucestershire, and he’s a friend of the family. It was a mistake and ...” Somehow describing it as a mistake didn’t cover it. “Well, it was over last year.” Her words were spoken with grit. Richard had become a damned nuisance, and she didn’t relish the thought of him hanging around again.
Cal held her firmly, his hand soothing against her back. He led her with one hand against her hip, the other in the small of the back.
She linked her arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “Mm, I like the way this feels.”
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Humor darted through his expression. “Sometimes the old ways are the best.” He leaned down to kiss her mouth.
She’d never get enough of how that felt. The way he breathed his lips over hers and then claimed her deeply. She could feel every ounce of him pressed against her, moving rhythmically and keeping her in tow, and boy, did it feel good. She was disappointed when the track ended. She glanced around, but mercifully Richard was nowhere in sight.
“Thank god, he’s gone!”
“You ended it with him, didn’t you?” It was a statement more than a question.
Georgie merely nodded. Cal looked curious, but thankfully he didn’t pry anymore. She wasn’t ready to discuss her “mistake.”
When they got back to the table, Jason had also gone. He was backstage preparing for his performance, and Georgie forgot the unwelcome distraction when he came out on stage. He had abandoned his jacket, his simple black T-shirt the perfect agent between his tawny skin and the amber color of his guitar. The place fell silent as he strummed a few notes and settled onto the chair left out for him. The lights had dimmed, save for one focused on his guitar. It caught his features and hair as he leaned over the instrument.
Georgie absorbed the aura of anticipation in the place and looked at Jason’s fingers. When they began to move, so carefully, gently, across the strings, she thought of how they had touched her body, how they knew her innermost secrets. As they wove out the beautiful sounds, she experienced every note. Intimately.
He played with a grace and knowledge she had never witnessed in a musician before. He was intricately bound up with the music, at one with it. The sounds were discreetly seductive, speaking to her of warmth, the subtle charm of sunshine in a secluded garden, the kiss of a forbidden lover. As the tempo rose, his head went back, his eyes closing as he moved through the sounds, building up to the passion and power of the piece. He looked so handsome, his face cast part in shadow as he leaned back from his instrument, then closed into the light as the piece built again.
She glanced over at Cal. Through the darkness she could make out his concentration. He, too, was following each movement intently, the stillness of his body and the angle of his head conveying his attention. In a splinter of a second, his eyes flickered over to meet hers. His glance was deep and expressive. The knowledge of deepest intimacy passed between them in a flash. Georgie fe
lt their physical passion travel across the space, carried on the waves of sound that aroused them both. When his mouth gave her a subtle smile of acknowledgment, that familiar dense heat sprang up in the pit of her belly.
The applause seemed like an intrusion, but Jason rose and greeted it with pleasure, nodding and smiling as he backed from the stage. When he rejoined them, he looked to them first for their appreciation, which they gave him in words and looks and touches, before a crowd of eager devotees descended. While he chatted with them, Georgie and Cal looked on, their attention dancing back toward each other occasionally. Each glance contained a shared promise, constantly reaffirmed.
Later, they spilled out into the party next door and danced into the night. By the time they left, Jason was more than slightly intoxicated on the many drinks that had been bought for him. Georgie led him, one arm beneath his, as Cal closed behind them, watching his friend’s steps. It was late. The streets were empty, and they moved toward the busier part of the district in search of a cab.
Georgie felt a sense of discomfort descending as they walked through the empty streets. A creeping doubt nagged at her spine, but she tried to dismiss it, assuming it was a hangover from her meeting with Richard. What bad luck it had been, bumping into him. Talk about ruining the moment. She tried to push the thought away and hugged against Jason’s side, dancing along with his footsteps. They paused beneath a street lamp, and Jason grew quiet and looked around him as if he knew there was someone watching.
After a moment, a man stepped out of the shadows. Georgie gasped at the intrusion, but Jason and Cal didn’t seem surprised when the lurking figure walked toward them. Georgie wondered who he was.
Cal groaned aloud, his eyes rolling. “Don’t you ever give up?”
The man gave him a dismissive glance. “Jason.” He directed a curt nod at Jason.
Jason drew himself up, sobering quickly, glancing coolly at the man who had planted himself forcibly in their path. He was shorter, older, and swarthier than Jason, his body more stocky and aggressive in its stance, but a resemblance between the two was apparent, and the man had a more obvious Scottish accent.
“Greg ... I would say it’s good to see you, but, alas ...” Jason’s hands spread out as he shrugged and gave a wry smile. His attitude seemed to rile the man, because he stepped forward, closing on Jason, a tight expression around his mouth.
“You’ve switched your mobile off, haven’t you?” There was anger in his tone.
“Too right. I was sick of the sound of your voice.” Jason reacted to his approach by turning away to face Georgie. “I’m afraid to have to admit that this is my cousin Gregory, Georgie.”
The man threw her what appeared to be a threatening glance. Jason didn’t take any notice, but it was more than enough to quell any response she might have made.
Cal stepped in at that moment, confronting the older man. “Let it go, Greg. It’s just not going to happen, so why don’t you leave Jason alone?”
“What’s it to you?” Greg snapped at him, his heavily accented voice lashing out at the still night air. The atmosphere crackled with tension. “This is a personal matter between us, nothing to do with you. Keep out of it, or I’ll make it your business, too.” He held Cal’s attention with the threatening expression in his face, then spat on the ground near Cal’s feet.
In a heartbeat, Jason strode up against him, his hands on the collar of Gregory’s jacket. His eyes were wild, his teeth gritted as he seethed rage in response. The other man gave a nasty laugh. This was the response he had been hoping for, obviously. He wanted a fight.
Cal groaned, shook his head, and walked away from the other two, giving them space. He seemed weary of whatever this was about. Jason stepped back, but his attention never left his cousin. Greg began to fold his arms over his chest, slowly, in a gesture of defiance as he tried to assert himself over Jason’s more nonchalant pose.
“I’ve waited long enough. Give me the goods.”
“I don’t owe you anything.” Jason sighed.
“Knowledge is power. I know you’ve got the goodies. I want them.”
“I can’t; it’s not in me to ruin a career.”
“Zoë’s career will probably benefit from the exposure, and you know it.” His voice held that threatening tone again. “You should have destroyed the material when she made it big. You would have done that if you had really cared about her like you said you did.” He held Jason with the threat implicit in his actions.
Jason’s lips were tight and bloodless. Georgie could see he was holding back his instinct to hit his cousin.
“I’m leaving for Edinburgh in a couple of days, and you’re coming with me.” Gregory flashed a malevolent grin. “I’m sure Zoë will be very pleased to see us again.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the darkness.
“I very much doubt it,” Jason muttered in the direction of his retreating back.
Chapter Five
Georgie watched Cal as he circled the classroom. He held a long, tapered pointer in one hand, tapping it rhythmically against the length of his leg as he paced. His expression was serious, and it gave him a dark, brooding quality that suggested he was about to whip the pointer loudly against the nearest easel. It was getting harder and harder for her to concentrate on her pose with him looking so demonically sexy like that, so close, and yet so far out of her reach.
“Is he a good fuck?” Justine whispered, her mouth close against Georgie’s ear. Cal had posed them as two nymphs of the source, each with a water jug held on a shoulder with one hand, the other resting on the opposite shoulder of her companion. That way all the fine art students looked on the naked back of one woman, and the front view of the other. Cal had asked her if she could bring another model for the final session of the year, and Justine had, of course, jumped at the chance.
Georgie turned her head slightly to meet the curious look in Justine’s expression. She wondered what Justine would make of the news that she was now in a ménage with Cal and his naughty-boy sidekick, Jason. She smiled, her cheeks heating.
They could both see Cal as he walked around the circle of easels, looking at the students working. Justine’s eyes glittered as they followed his movements.
“You wouldn’t believe the stories I could tell you,” she whispered slowly, lingering on the words suggestively.
Justine gave a smug little grin and tossed her mop of tousled blonde hair back. “I just knew you’d slept with him.”
Cal came over to them. “Can’t you two keep still for another few minutes? The session is nearly over.” He was frowning.
The two women started, and Georgie’s jug rolled down across her chest. Justine arrested its fall by trapping it between their two bodies. Their new, more comic pose resulted in a ripple of laughter from the onlookers. Cal gave up and closed the session, clapping his hands over his head a few minutes earlier than usual.
“Is he really that good?” Justine asked when they were getting dressed.
“Yes, I think he’s a very good artist. Don’t you?” Georgie replied, and laughed. She pulled on her cut-off black jeans and picked up the flash of ripped purple T-shirt that she’d worn that day. When she had tugged it into place, she found Justine was still looking at her, arms folded beneath her breasts, one eyebrow lifted accusingly.
“Gossip!” Georgie laughed.
Justine’s mouth opened into an outraged expression. “You can’t just leave me hanging. Tell me more!”
“Let’s just say he’s painted my eyes in already.”
Justine broke into laugher. “You lucky devil.” She reached for her clothes.
“Yes, indeed,” Georgie mused. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” That wasn’t the half of it.
“Hey, girl, you’re getting a starry-eyed look. You’re not falling for him, are you?”
Georgie’s head snapped back, her smile fading, her heart missing a beat. “Don’t be daft.” Her words sounded unconvincing, even to herself. She forced a laugh. “H
e’s a compelling man, all right, but I don’t think Cal’s the falling-for type. You know?” Even as she said it, she wondered if she could really help herself.
Justine nodded knowingly as she pulled her clothes on. “I can see that.”
Georgie once again remarked to herself that she didn’t know the half of it.
When they were both dressed, Justine picked up her bag and flung it over her shoulder. “How’s about we do some girly shopping tomorrow, and I’ll give you some key tips on having fun but not falling for the wrong type of men?”
“You’re on. I’ll text you tomorrow.” Georgie smiled at her younger friend’s cocky statement.
They went their separate ways, and when Georgie walked out onto the street, she found herself wishing that Cal had finished at the college for the day. They could have met afterwards and walked together.
Justine might be right about the starry eyes, she considered. She’d have to watch herself. But how could she resist him? He was the most intriguing man she’d ever met. He’d stayed with her for breakfast that morning, his body a streak of pure masculine beauty across her rose-covered bed while he sipped tea and stroked toast crumbs from her naked belly, even after they were gone. They talked about everyday things, and then they had talked with eyes and fingers, discovering each other in quiet ways.
Jason had risen and left at dawn, without a word to either of them. Cal told her a little of more of his predicament, but seemed unwilling to involve her. She gathered that the goods in question were photos Jason had taken of Zoë Mac, a pop singer who was currently a hot favorite amongst the teenyboppers. The photos were obviously something that might harm her image, and Greg wanted to make some money off of his more honorable paparazzi cousin.
She was deep in thought about the encounter as she cut through a busy street market and slowed to choose some flowers. When she had selected a spray of exotic orchids and chatted a while with the woman on the stall, she stepped back into the crowded central pathway. She’d only walked a little way further when she felt a hand close on her shoulder. She gasped and turned.
Along for the Ride Page 6