Project Seduction

by Tatiana March

  "Wait,” Georgina said. She arched her back, fighting the burst of dizziness that was making her lose herself and fall into him. “I need to know something."

  Rick skimmed his mouth along her cheek until his lips were next to her ear. “What is it?” he murmured.

  "I need to know if I can trust you. How many times have you lied to me tonight?"

  He straightened, still holding her in his arms, and looked into her eyes. “Only once,” he said.

  "That's all right, then.” She gave him a little nod. “Will you promise never to lie to me again?"

  She could see his throat moving as he swallowed. “I promise,” he said after a brief silence.

  "Thank you.” She nodded at him once more.

  "Why aren't you asking me what I've told you that wasn't true?"

  "Because I know."

  He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What?"

  "You don't like seafood."

  He pulled a face. “I hate goddamn seafood."

  Then he lowered his head and kissed her again. This time there was nothing gentle about it.

  Rick knew he'd lost the battle against himself when Georgina had insisted that they share the warm chocolate cake covered with vanilla ice cream that she had ordered to finish the meal.

  He leaned across the table and scooped up a few spoonfuls. Then he watched her. Georgina savored every bite. The pink tip of her tongue peeked in and out as she licked the melting ice cream off the spoon.

  The endless sensuality of the simple act of eating reinforced his conviction that there were untapped passions behind the controlled exterior.

  Her refusal to walk with him along the beach annoyed him more than he cared to admit. Then she invited him up for a coffee. He hoped he wasn't wrong when he took it as an invitation into her bed.

  Her lips under his were soft and yielding. They made his blood race, until it roared in his ears and pounded against his temples. He ran his tongue along the edge of her mouth, feeling the timid response. Her body pressed against his, melting into him. However inexperienced she might be, he knew she couldn't be mistaken about the impact the kiss was having on him.

  He ran his hands up her arms until he reached her shoulders, and the tiny straps that held up the dress. The bare skin felt like velvet under his touch.

  He slipped a finger under each strap and nudged them down over her shoulders. The green dress began a slithering descent. He could see the curve of her breasts rising and falling with her frantic breathing. His stomach tightened, when he realized his speculation had been right—she wasn't wearing a bra under the dress.

  "What are you doing?” she whispered.

  "What do you think I'm doing?” he whispered back.

  "Wait.” Georgina jerked away from him. The movement slipped the top of the dress over her breasts. The fabric bunched at her waist, where the pressure of his groin against her kept it from falling down.

  "You can't do that,” Georgina said.

  "Why?” he murmured, lowering his mouth to her lips again.

  "Wait,” Georgina said. She struggled against him, and he released her. The dress fell further. Georgina gathered it against her body with one hand and backed away. “Wait here,” she said, gesturing at him with her free hand. Then she turned and hurried out to the hall.

  Rick could hardly believe his luck. Georgina had appeared so jittery when he first kissed her, and now she was rushing out to the bathroom. To get herself ready for him. Could he really have been so totally off the mark, when he'd assumed her inexperienced? He had prepared himself for a long evening of coaxing and reassurance. Not that he minded. He was prepared to work hard to get what he wanted, harder than most men would.

  There was no sound of the bathroom door closing or opening. Rick crossed the kitchen to peek into the hall. Georgina crouched down by the small table. Her leather briefcase lay at her feet, the side compartment open. She clutched a piece of paper, so worn from handling that one of the corners was torn.

  "What's the problem?” he said, taking the first step to cover the distance between them.

  "Nothing,” Georgina said. She rammed the piece of paper into the side pocket of the briefcase and pulled the zip. Then she bounced up, one hand clutching the dress around her waist. She spun on her bare heels and escaped into the living room.

  He followed her, catching her behind one of the sofas. “Is something wrong?” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and backing her against the sofa until she stood wedged in tight.

  "Flowers,” she said. “You can't take my clothes off. You haven't bought me flowers."

  "Flowers?” he said, totally baffled. “What does that have to do with anything?"

  "A gentleman buys a woman flowers before he tries to get her naked."

  He lowered his head and nuzzled his lips along her bare shoulder. “Perhaps I'm not a gentleman."

  "Then become one.” She gave him a shove so forceful it took him by surprise.

  He backed off to give her space. “What do you want me to do?"

  "Flowers,” Georgina said firmly. “You have to buy me flowers."

  He raised a hand and rubbed it against the back of his head. “All right. I'll get you some tomorrow."

  "All right,” Georgina agreed. “Then you can come back tomorrow."

  "Now, wait a minute..."

  He couldn't quite figure out how it happened, but somehow she managed to slip out of his grasp. Her small perfect breasts jiggled up and down as she circled to put the sofa between them.

  "Come back tomorrow,” she told him. “I'll be here."

  But you won't have a bottle of champagne sloshing inside you, giving you courage, Rick thought as he contemplated Georgina through narrowed eyes. Not that it would make any difference in the end. It would take him a little longer, but the outcome would be just the same.

  "Do you have a Yellow Book?” he asked.

  "No. What's that?"

  "A telephone directory."

  "In the kitchen drawer."

  "Will you at least go and find it for me?” he said, scrubbing his face with his hands. Damn the woman. She was a pain in the ass, but he was too churned up to simply walk away, which he knew he ought to have done.

  The hem of the dress slipped down over Georgina's knees, forcing her to hobble as she returned with the Yellow Book.

  Rick had already fished his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He clutched it in one hand as he stood waiting. Georgina handed him the telephone directory. He didn't thank her. Pages rustled as he flicked through, balancing the heavy volume over his forearm. Flowers. Florists. He ran his finger down the page until he found a local number.

  It took him three attempts to get the number right. No reply.

  The next place at least had a recorded message. It told him they'd open at ten on Sunday morning.

  He gave up after attempt number five. “Everywhere's closed.” He threw the directory on the sofa, where it bounced against the cushions and flipped down to the floor.

  "That sounds reasonable,” Georgina said. “It's past midnight on a Saturday night."

  "Won't tomorrow do?” Rick knew he was pleading, but he couldn't stop himself.

  "In the UK there are all-night service stations on the motorways. Sometimes they have flowers.” Georgina gave him an earnest look, as though she was doing her best to be helpful.

  "Don't you dare laugh at me,” Rick grumbled. “I can't guarantee I'll be able to control my temper.” His hands clenched into fists. Walk out, he told himself. Leave, before you get down on your knees and beg.

  * * * *

  Georgina tried to control her swift breathing. Cool air brushed over her bare breasts. Then she saw Rick staring at her with narrowed eyes, and his gaze burned every inch of her exposed skin.

  "Put your dress back on.” His voice was rough and gravely.

  Georgina met his eyes and held them as she slowly pulled the bodice up and slipped the shoulder straps over her arms. “Is this better
?"

  "Much better.” Rick stalked around the sofa until he stood only inches from her. “I've just realized there's no need for you to be naked.” He toppled her down on the sofa and trapped her body down with his.

  Dear Lord. Georgina squeezed her eyes shut. Grandma Ethel had drilled it into her how dangerous it was to play with fire. Look where forgetting that lesson had got her now.

  She'd panicked earlier. Things were moving too fast, and it scared her. For a moment, she had felt totally vulnerable. Then she remembered her list. The flowchart came to her rescue. Her means of restoring order. It stated in no uncertain terms that flowers had to come between a kiss and nudity.

  She clung to that fact, as though her life depended on it.

  But now, Rick's mouth was on hers again, crushing her lips, forcing them to open. Although really, as Georgina's scrupulous honesty made her admit, very little forcing was going on. Her body seemed to have become disconnected from her brain, reacting in curious ways that she couldn't control.

  Didn't want to control.

  Like now, when her back arched high, to press her closer to what already pressed so hard against her pelvic bone. And her hands. They raced up and down the solid ridge of muscles above her, all the way to the black hair that was so much nicer now that it had grown long enough for her to tangle her fingers into it.

  "Are you all right?” Rick murmured into her ear.

  "No,” she told him. How could she possibly be all right? She felt like a rocket about to go off.

  "Do you want me to stop?"

  "No,” she whispered. Then she felt a hand fumbling between her legs and tugging at her panties. “Yes,” she shrieked. “Stop."

  "What's wrong?” Rick propped himself up on one elbow.

  "Flowers,” Georgina managed to say, her voice brittle and shaky, the single word barely audible. Her eyes searched his, hoping he would be sensitive enough to pick up her fear without her needing to explain.

  Rick shook his head slowly. “You really are serious about that?"

  She nodded, pushing at his chest, her hands flattened against the hard muscles.

  "All right.” He rolled away from her and reached for the jacket he'd tossed over the armrest. He found his cell phone. Punching a button, he raised the phone to his ear. “Emilio, mi amigo,” he said into the phone. “I'm glad you're still up. I need a favor."

  He turned around and kept his eyes fixed on Georgina. It made her realize he was speaking English for her benefit.

  "Those big flower arrangements you have in the lobby? Would you have any to spare? ... Yeah, amigo, right now.” Rick looked as tense as a panther stalking its prey. His eyes roamed Georgina's body, making her breath catch in her throat.

  "Nah. Your driver's had a long day. Let him go. I'll sort out something else ... Gracias, amigo. Buenas noches.” He flicked his wrist to press the button that ended the call. Still watching her, he dialed another number.

  "Kelly, how're you doing? ... Listen, I've got an emergency ... I need something brought over from that fancy place on Coronado Island ... Right ... Is there a patrol unit in the neighborhood? ... Okay. No, don't patch me through. I've got Roy's number on speed dial."

  He pressed the button again, and dialed a new call. “Roy, you son of a bitch. They let you out on the streets after that cock-up with the two Japanese tourists? ... Yeah, yeah. You don't really think I'm gonna believe that? ... Screw you, too ... Listen, I need a favor. Kelly tells me you're near Coronado Island. Can you pick up something for me? Go to that big hotel and ask for Emilio Ramirez. He's the head of security there. Then cruise up to my place ... What is it? It's flowers ... I swear, I'm not shitting you. It is a goddamn bunch of flowers ... Of course it's for a woman, you asshole. You think I'm gay? ... Third base, fuck you, buddy. Would I be doing this for any less than a home run?"

  Then, for the first time during the three telephone conversations, he took his eyes off Georgina and laughed. “No, buddy. Don't bother with the siren and the lights. Nice and easy will do. Call me on my cell when you're at the gate."

  Then he pressed a button, and tossed the phone on the table.

  "Flowers are on their way,” he said.

  Georgina stared at him as her mind shifted through the conversations. Unless she was mistaken, Rick had just delivered her a message, hidden in the bantering exchanges he had so obviously intended her to hear.

  I'm a cop. This is the way we talk. Crude. We see women, you included, as sex objects, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise.

  The only bit unclear to her was why he had suddenly switched to talking about baseball. But that wasn't important right now.

  Her heart pounded as Rick kneeled on the floor by the sofa and placed one warm hand on her ankle. “Easy,” he murmured, beginning to stroke her leg. “No need to worry. Nothing will happen unless you want to.” He reached higher and higher with each caress, over her knee, and up along her thigh, until the dress bunched around her hips.

  Then he ran his fingertips softly over the fabric of her panties, barely touching. When he reached down between her thighs, she whimpered and pushed up against his hand.

  "That's it, darling. Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you.” He bent his head and kissed her lips, softly now, while the pressure of his hand grew.

  Georgina felt dizzy. The effect of the champagne had started to wear off, but what was happening to her now was far more intoxicating.

  She couldn't tell how it came about, but soon her panties were a rumpled scrap of cotton and lace clutched in Rick's hand. He dropped them on the floor, and resumed the feathery touch along her legs. Then he pushed her dress up past her waist, and bent to press his mouth against the sensitive skin just below her breasts.

  "Sweet Georgina,” he whispered, raising his head to look into her eyes. “I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do. All you have to do is speak up, and I'll stop.” Then he went back to kissing her. His lips dragged up the curve of her breast, until they met the hardened nipple. He closed his teeth around it, biting her softly.

  She couldn't hold back a scream, such was the exquisite pleasure.

  "Hush,” he murmured. “Did that hurt? Do you want me to stop?"

  "No,” she cried out. “Don't stop."

  "That's it, sweetheart. Enjoy it. Let yourself go."

  He moved to her other breast, and then inched down her belly to the top of her thighs. Georgina could hear herself whimpering. It was constant now, almost like she was a frightened kitten trapped up a tree. It embarrassed her to be emitting that kind of sounds, but she didn't know how to make herself stop.

  All of a sudden, the cell phone on the table clattered to life. Rick swore and snatched it up. He looked at the display, then pressed a button to connect the call.

  "You at the gate?” he growled into the phone.

  Then he slanted a glance at Georgina and smiled. “No, you can't come up and be introduced. I'll come down to the gate."

  He tossed the phone on the table and bent down to give her a quick kiss. “Where are your keys? I want to lock the door while I'm gone."

  "They are in the big china bowl on the hall table."

  "I'll only be a couple of minutes.” He kissed her again and sauntered out of the room.

  Rick returned less than five minutes later, carrying an enormous arrangement of flowers in various shades of red, orange and yellow. The bouquet was like a glorious burst of flames.

  "They are lovely,” Georgina said. “How on earth did they get them in the car?"

  "Beats me. Roy says he put them on the roof and drove slowly. That's bullshit. He used the siren and jumped lights. That's the only way he got here so fast."

  "Did he really?” Georgina smiled with pleasure. Her flowers were definitely a special delivery.

  "Only the best for you.” Rick dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Where do you want these?"

  "Can you put them in the kitchen sink? Put some water in first."

  Rick disappeared into t
he kitchen. This is IT, Georgina thought as she listened to the running water. She was racing through her deadlines, knocking past them like a champion hurdler.

  A few moments later, Rick reappeared without the flowers. “I think we'll be more comfortable in the bedroom.” He scooped her up in his arms. Her heart drummed as he carried her through the hall and lowered her on the bed. Rick remained fully clothed. All she wore was the dress rolled into a wide belt around her waist.

  "Are you all right?” he asked, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. One of his hands drew lazy circles around her breasts.

  Georgina looked up at him, and a sudden instinct told her that he was nervous too. “I'm fine,” she said. She reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. Then, flipping over on the bed and pulling up her legs, she kneeled by him and pushed the undone shirt over his shoulders.

  First one side. Then the other. Running her hands over the warm skin. Feeling the solid muscles beneath. When the shirt was completely off, she looked at him in awe. She'd never imagined she would loose her virginity to a man like this. Hair and eyes so dark, body so strong and taut.

  Rick closed his eyes and savored the sensation of Georgina's hands roaming over his skin.

  Christ. He needed a cold shower. He needed to be inside her. He needed to calm down. Otherwise he would last less than a second.

  "It's not going to hurt, is it?” Georgina whispered.

  "Sweetheart, I'm not going to hurt you. I promised you that."

  "But it's supposed to,” she said.

  "What?” he frowned at her, not comprehending.

  "You know. The first time."

  He leapt up as though she'd thrown a bucket of freezing water over him. “You're a virgin!"

  "No need to announce it to the neighbors,” Georgina said in an angry whisper.

  "You should have told me,” Rick said hotly. “Jesus.” He raked his hands through his hair, staring at her in horror.

  "Pray tell me, how exactly was I supposed to tell you. Oh yes.” She raised her voice into a whine and chanted. “Yes Rick, I'll come out to dinner with you, and, by the way, I'm a virgin, but I'm hoping that you'll take care of that.” She dropped her voice back to normal and scowled at him. “Is that what I was supposed to say?"