“We need to get downstairs! They’re going to wonder what happened to us.”
Spencer figured they’d put two and two together by now. He pulled his fingers from her and licked them clean, sharing them with Georgie, who sucked on his pointer finger like she was toying with his cock. He groaned, then smacked her on her bottom.
“Let’s get down there and finish this meal up so we can get back to business.”
~*~
Georgie went ahead of Spencer, hoping her flushed face wasn’t a dead giveaway.
“Everything okay up there?” Marcy arched her brow and grinned.
“Yes, fine.”
“We thought we lost you two.”
“You mean Spence? I didn’t even know he was upstairs. I didn’t even see him.”
Marcy nodded. “Oh. Okay then.”
When Spencer returned to the table, James rubbed his hands together. “Who’s ready for dessert?”
Georgie took one look at Spencer and her eyes lit up. “I, for one, can’t wait.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Thanks for such an amazing evening,” Georgie said. She gave her cousin a hug and this time she meant it. “I’m so happy for you two. And thanks for sharing everything with me.”
Georgie and Spencer left in their own cars but met up a block away.
“My place. Follow me,” Spencer said.
Georgie liked his take-charge demeanor. And she loved the way he could surprise her like he did at the dinner table.
After a ten-minute drive, they arrived at his place, a surprisingly large contemporary house on the beach.
Georgie followed him inside and into a cozy living room. The curtains were all opened wide. “I don’t ever want to not see the ocean right there,” he said, pointing toward the water. She nodded—she felt the same way.
“Before anything else, I need to show you something.”
Georgie frowned, wondering what this could mean.
“Oh, it’s nothing bad. It’s something you deserve all the credit for, so I wanted you to be the first to have a glimpse at it.”
He covered her eyes and guided her from behind. When he removed his hands, before her stood two familiar-looking end tables. “Ta-da!” he said with a grin.
She held her hand to her mouth. “Oh, wow. Petie! Doing business as a side table.” She squealed and clapped her hands. “I love them! They’re downright gorgeous!”
“And I have you to thank. In fact, I want you to have them. Courtesy of Broken Board Designs.” He winked at her.
“Really? For me?”
He nodded. “Consider them an early Christmas present.”
“I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts this year. I thought we didn’t even celebrate Christmas!”
“Well, I thought maybe now was a time for new beginnings. Starting with me, Spencer, finally admitting that you, Georgie, are someone I want to get to know better. Granted, we sort of got to know each other intimately before we got to know each other as friends, but I was hoping you’d agree that we could undertake a little bit of both and see where things lead.”
She shook her head.
“No?” He frowned at her.
“No, not a little bit,” she said. “A lot a bit.”
“Of both?” He reached for her and pulled her closer and started kissing her along her neck.
“Well, let’s put first things first,” she said. “After all, it seems we have some unfinished business to attend to.”
“Ooooh.” Spencer’s lips grazed hers. “I absolutely love unfinished business.” He nibbled on her earlobe. “It’s my favorite kind.” He pressed himself up against her so she knew exactly what sort of work he had in mind.
“So, by business, then, you mean monkey business?” She pressed his lips open with her tongue, stroking along his teeth till he widened his mouth so their tongues could meet.
“I’m not monkeying around, if that’s what you’re asking.” His fingers reached for the hem of her sweaterdress and he quickly skimmed it up and over her head. He let out a long, low whistle as he checked her out in a sexy pair of panties that tied at each hip and a sheer push-up bra that put her nipples on display. Throw in the silver sandals and she knew he was a happy man.
Georgie certainly had no idea that this was where she’d end up tonight—she didn’t even expect to see Spencer at the party that wasn’t a party—but she was sure glad she’d put on her most hopeful bra and panties. Hopeful because while she hadn’t expected anyone, especially not Spencer, to see them on her, she knew any self-respecting man would go dry at the mouth if he did have the chance to see her dressed—or undressed—like this. Hoorah that she happened to luck into wearing her favorite silk undies rather than the gray grannies she could’ve donned, particularly because they had better fit her mood at the beginning of the evening.
Georgie struck a pose, thrusting her breasts toward him and cocking her hip in his direction. “You like?”
Spencer placed a hand on each breast, weighing them in his hands, then leaned forward and dragged his tongue along the fabric that outlined her taut nipple.
“I love.” He deftly flicked the front hook of her bra, allowing her breasts to spill free of the cups. “And I love this even more.”
He plucked one taut nipple between his fingers as his lips encircled the other one.
“Not as much as I love that.” She moaned and pulled him toward her. She could hardly believe her good luck, considering how despondent she’d been earlier in the day. He bathed her nipple with his tongue and she could sense it deep in her pelvis. It made her want more. It made her want him. Inside her. Now.
She grabbed his belt buckle and unfastened it, making quick work of the button and zipper as well, scooching his pants down like they were on fire. She pulled his sweater over his head and nodded toward the carpet.
“You.” She pointed downward. “There.”
“I like a woman who takes charge.”
“That’s me: large and in charge.” She took a look at the bulge she couldn’t help but admire. “Then again, you’re looking pretty large yourself, big boy.” She gave him a wink. “I like the mankinis, by the way.”
“I considered myself on notice after your tightie-whitie tirade.”
Georgie gave his shoulders a gentle shove and he helped himself down to the ground.
“Tirade?” she said, licking her lips. “I’ll show you a tirade.”
She knelt down and leaned over him as she shimmied his underwear down, then smiled. “Now this I could get used to.” She dipped her head toward his hardened cock, stuck out her tongue, and drew a long swipe along the length of it. “Mmmm…”
“Georgie, baby, you’re killing me.” Spencer thrust his hips toward her as she took him into her mouth and sucked hard. He moaned when she grabbed his balls. “I’m not gonna last if you keep this up. I need to be in you. Now.”
“Your wish is my command.” She slipped her panties off and straddled his hips. Settling herself over him, she slid herself onto his swollen cock. She fixed her eyes on his as she ground her pelvis against him, circling her hips as she alternated rubbing herself on him and lifting her hips. Each time her pussy grabbed him and pulled him in, she gasped at the zings of pleasure it sent arcing through her pelvis.
Spencer guided her hips to help her lift and thrust, increasing the pace as she leaned forward so that he could catch her nipple in his mouth and suck hard. That was all it took to send Georgie over the edge as her pelvis spasmed around his cock, milking a climax from him as she pulsed on him. She collapsed on top of him, panting as she caught her breath.
Spencer rolled her onto her side so they faced each other.
“If you ask me,” he said, twirling her hair in his fingers, “that was definitely worth a dead surfboard.”
“Or two.” She poked him in the ribs.
“Maybe even three or four.”
They laughed as they cuddle
d on the carpet and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Spencer glanced around Georgie’s living room, marveling at the amount of Christmas decorations she’d managed to put up in such a short time.
“Did you own all of these? Or buy out the store?”
She grinned. “A little of both.” She pointed to the huge tree in the corner, overlooking the ocean view. “I particularly like that touch, thanks to you.”
He’d shown up a few days before Christmas with the tree and all the accoutrements, and they spent the evening decorating it together.
“It looks pretty good there, doesn’t it?” He squeezed her hand.
“Almost as good as you look sitting here.”
“Yeah, well, I know I’m not Bruiser, but…”
“You know that Bruiser chewed up two of my throw pillows while I was at work one day?”
“No!”
“Seriously, I came home, and it looked as if they’d been murdered. The stuffing carnage was over the top.”
“Something about you and the death of inanimate objects.” He grinned.
“Speaking of murdering prized possessions,” she said, reaching for a package in a large gift bag she’d stashed behind the tree. “I was particularly glad that Bruiser didn’t get his canines on this, which I have been saving for you.”
“Is this what I think it is?”
She knit her brows. “You know about this?”
He pursed his lips. “Maybe a little bit. I don’t know all the details, only that you had worked on something for me.”
“Awww, man! Can’t a girl keep a secret around here?”
“Consider it a good thing. Had Noah not told me about this, maybe I’d still be stuck on the idea of refusing to let anyone in. Even someone as kind and thoughtful and beautiful as you.”
She smiled. “You think I’m beautiful?”
He nodded. “And kind and thoughtful. Those count too, you know.”
“I know. Even more so.” She handed him the gift. “Go ahead, open it.”
He pulled out the quilt and had to stand up to hold it up all the way. “Holy cow—this is for me?”
She nodded. “You like it?”
“Are you kidding? I love it.” He gave her a huge hug. “I, of all people, can truly appreciate what a labor of love this was to make. Even if you didn’t know me, let alone love me. But I know it came from your huge and generous heart, so thank you, Georgie.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, no you don’t,” Spencer said, pointing at her eyes. “Don’t you even think about it. There are to be no tears today. Instead, let’s go over each panel of the quilt and see what you put in there.”
He managed to distract her enough as he pointed to each one. “Ah, I have a special fondness for the octopus—how did you know that? They’re such clever creatures. Have you ever watched them escape from things? They’re amazing.”
“Yes, they’re brilliant. I can never eat them for that reason.”
“There’s a crab—been bitten plenty by them. Jellyfish, I’m not a fan but love him on the quilt. Seahorse—very cool. Turtles—the best. Stingrays—sometimes when we’re waiting for a wave, they hang out with us. There’s a surfboard with a cross marked RIP. May Petie rest in peace—”
“In my living room.”
“Indeed. In fact I’m going to set my coffee cup on him right now. Oh look, there’s a quilted shark—so far, I’ve managed to avoid them in the flesh, thank goodness. But I did laugh that day when you pointed out how lucky I was that you, rather than a shark, killed my board, which would have gotten me too.”
She laughed. “Yeah and let’s hope you don’t exact revenge by killing the quilt in return.”
“Come to think of it… If anything ever does happen to it, we could always repurpose it to something like cocktail napkins, maybe placemats.”
She whacked him on the butt playfully. “From now on, no more hurting our things or each other. Deal?”
He nodded, pulling Georgie into his arms. “Deal. And for good measure, we can seal that with a kiss.”
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Keep reading for a sample from Falling for Mr. Maybe, the next book in the Falling for Mr. Wrong series.
Falling For Mr. No Way in Hell
by Jenny Gardiner
Chapter One
Lacy Caldwell secured her long, tawny hair into a loose side braid, pulled her goggles over her bright green eyes, then tugged on the iridescent teal mermaid tail that had, like it or not, become an appendage she’d gotten oddly attached to over the past year. Since last January, Lacy had been supplementing her income to pay for grad school by working as a mermaid at a cheesy roadside tiki bar in the small town of Verity Beach in North Carolina’s Outer Banks.
At first she simply took the job because it was a job to be had. She’d never aspired to be a freak attraction to tourists looking for a good laugh while getting drunk over too many beers. But then she surprised herself by finding out she kinda loved both the job and the quirky group of people who she worked alongside at the Mermaid’s Purse, too.
This included 87-year old Edna Dingleheimer, who’d been pounding out customers’ favorite tunes on the electric keyboard four nights a week since the year John Kennedy was assassinated. Despite her one-of-a-kind appearance (bleached-blond beehive hairdo, Coke bottle-thick eyeglasses, knuckles knobbed with arthritis, dressed in a grass skirt over a pair of blue jeans), Edna’s presence always took second fiddle to the main attraction: two mermaids who each night dallied in a swimming pool on the other side of a large picture window that overlooked the dark, dank bar of the Mermaid’s Purse.
Sometimes Lacy could relate to how a stripper must feel, having leering eyes laser-focused on you for sometimes hours at a time. Even though she was, for all intents and purposes, far more dressed than a stripper. That said, the coconut shell bra wasn’t exactly a turtle neck, and she had large enough breasts that they couldn’t help but spill out a little bit from the tiny confines of those hard cups.
At first she’d felt self-conscious in her low-cut tail and coconut bikini top, but soon she realized it was sort of fun to get paid (and earn some pretty generous tips) to just flipper around a swimming pool for several hours a night. Since the pool was indoors, they weren’t exposed to the elements, which was a huge plus. The biggest downside was sheer boredom: you could only do so much in a mermaid tail—a few underwater flips here, a handful of turns there, a couple of tail slaps with whatever other mermaid was on duty that night, and maybe send some seductive bubble kisses to the people at the bar, and then you had to get creative. Thank goodness she had to surface for air every twenty seconds or so, just for the change of scenery.
Often Lacy stuck around after work to chat with her co-workers. She adored the owner, Vera Cosmopolous, a seventy-something Greek American woman who made it her life’s goal to fatten Lacy up, even though Lacy felt plenty fattened enough already, thanks.
“Here,” Vera said, sliding a plate with grilled pita and baba ganoush, an eggplant and tahini dip, toward Lacy, who had to admit she was starved after swimming around in the pool for four hours. “This will be good for you and will help you get over that stupid man.”
The stupid man she was referring to was her now ex-boyfriend, Billy Crapple. Yes, that was his name, deservedly so. Although Billy “What a Complete Pile of” Crapple was what she chose to call him nowadays. Lacy had devoted the past two y
ears of her life to building a relationship with Billy, only to find out he’d been seeing not one, not two, but three different women at the same time. Three-timing Lacy. When she found that out—based on a phone call from one of the suspicious three-fers, accusing her of being the other woman, of all things—she kicked him to the curb, vowing to steer clear from men for the foreseeable future. From here on out, she was devoting herself to finishing up her degree and stockpiling money as a mermaid.
It was a good life. Or good enough, albeit a teensy bit lonely. Currently the biggest stressor in her world was that she had to attend the engagement party of her friend Carly, whose fiancé Jimmy was good friends with Billy. And the last thing Lacy wanted to do was show up dateless with him there.
“I tell you what you need, honey,” Vera said as she helped herself to the pita bread she’d proffered to Lacy. Her electric green nail polish practically glowed in the dim light of the bar as she pointed at her mermaid employee who’d become like a daughter to he. “You need to bring a man with you and show that crappy Billy Crapple you never looked back once he was in your rearview mirror.”
Lacy sighed. “Yeah sure. Great idea. But who might you suggest?” She looked around the empty bar. “I mean I could bring Stan with me—” she nodded toward a man twice her age with a bushy moustache and a wife at home, “but that wouldn’t work on many levels.”
They both laughed at the idea. Stan just scowled at them.
“Can’t you think of any man who might go, even as a pity date?”
Lacy rolled her eyes. Just what she wanted to be: a pity date. Even though that’s precisely what she needed to find.
“I dunno,” she said. “I mean there’s this nice guy I’ve chatted with at the gym. He was next to me in yoga last week, and I’ve seen him at the other end of the room in boxing class every now and then.”
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