Page 48 of White Hole

“Yeah, I did,” I said with disappointment.

“That’s unfortunate.” His waist pressed into me until his massive pipe rammed between my legs. Our pants the barrier to ecstasy.

“I can’t be out here with you.”

George nipped my bottom lip that was sticking out. “Why?” He breathed hot air into my mouth. It tasted like mint.

“It’s girl’s night. No men allowed.”

He dropped my legs and backed away with his hands up. “Okay. See ya.”

“Wait, wait!” I grabbed his arm and tugged. “I guess I could ask if… We were going to make costumes?”

He gripped the truck door handle. “I was. But you’re busy.”

“No, no. It’s an emergency. We need to get our outfits sorted before tomorrow night. They’ll understand.”

George tried hard not to smile, and his handsome face made my pulse stutter, wetness pooling in my panties. “An emergency. Yep. Better hurry, princess. Ship’s leaving in ten. Don’t get into any bar fights.”

Running back inside the club, all my brain could think about was the massive cock inside his pants prison. Like an addict, I needed another hit as soon as possible. I skated past Cale and Sydney, who were too busy grinding on each other (Yuck!) to notice me. At our table, I snatched my purse, and the girls snapped their heads to me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Marissa had no right to sound accusatory as she sat on Xavier’s lap. So hewasthere.

“I need to make my costume for tomorrow night’s party.” Before anyone could protest further, I darted out.

“Say hello to George for me!” Marissa yelled, and everyone at the table laughed.

Heart beating fast, my skin sweating and flushed, I hurried back to George. Spotting him sitting in the driver’s seat, my belly flipped, and heat rose between my legs in anticipation of being near him. What was happening to me? Every moment I wasn’t with him, he was all I could think about. George was consuming me. It wasn’t right. I had other things, my future, to be thinking about.

Plus, I wanted to get started on tearing apart Barrett Grant and his escape from justice.

Using the step rail, I jumped in the passenger seat of his truck. His citrus and steel scent filled the cab, forcing my thighs to quiver with expectation. I wanted to jump in his lap and hump him. But without our clothes harboring us.

“Fucking Chanel.” George muttered almost so I could barely hear.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I smirked. He must have been feeling the same as I. Putting the truck into drive, he pointed us toward Main Street with a flick of his blinker.

“Where are we going?”

“Thought we’d stop by Wal-Mart. Only place open right now.”

Sinking back into the cozy seat, I crossed my arms. George glanced over and turned on the heat. “You cold?”

No, I was burning hot. For him. For George. And I wanted him to consume me again like he did at the library and in his bed.

“Uh, I’m good. Are we, um, going to your place after?”

George’s normally stoic expression changed to amusement. “What are you asking, princess?”

“Um. Just wondering is all. It’s late.”

“You want me to take you home—”

“No! I mean, no. I mean, not if you don’t want me to… What do you want, George?” I huffed.

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