Page 51 of What's Left of Us

My body reacts, remembering what she felt like under my hands, under my mouth the first night. “Georgia,” I greet, dead bolting the door and leaning against it to take her in.

Nervousness coats her face as she rises onto her knees. “Lincoln.”

I walk over to her, my hand going to her hair, caressing the back of her skull, and wanting nothing more than to wrap the silky strands around my fingers to pull. “This is a nice thing to come home to.”

She bites her bottom lip, her hands moving to grip my shoulders.

“What are you doing, Peaches?” I ask when they start sliding down my chest, her palms exploring the muscles along the way until they stop at the waistband of my jeans.

“I’m not sure,” she admits, her fingers working to unfasten my belt. I’ve never really thought of inexperience as one of my turn-ons but seeing her shakily struggle with the buckle does something to me.

It makes me want toteachher.

“I want to…thank you.”

“Thank me?” I repeat in confusion.

“For everything you’ve done. The phone. Letting me stay here…”

I should tell her she doesn’t have to, but my brain is too distracted by each experimental touch of her featherlight fingers along my body.

This is the last thing I expected to come home to after spending two hours trying to convince my buddy Michael Knight to give me whatever intel he had on Nikolas Del Rossi. He wouldn’t offer me much, especially when I told him it was for personal reasons.“That’s a rabbit hole you don’t want to fall down, Hawk.”Which only makes me want to fall down it more.

If I tell Georgia I’m trying to look into her family, what would she say? Would she feel betrayed? Ask me to stop? Tell me to let her know the things her father clearly won’t let her in on? I don’t know, and my gut tells me not to bother risking it.

I told Knight, who I worked with for almost a year before he got promoted to the BCI, to let me know if anything interesting popped up. I’m not sure if he will, but it’s worth a shot.

All of that goes out the window when I feel Georgia’s hands on my body.

“Is this okay?” she asks, biting her bottom lip when her knuckles lightly graze over my hard length.

I watch her stare at me, studying every inch like she’s never seen anything like me before. Then again, her experience is minimal to none based on our last experience together.

“More than okay.”

I let her have control. For now. Mostly because I’m enjoying the ample attention my eyes give her breasts as she undresses me. First, the belt goes. Then the button and zipper of my jeans. She hesitates for a moment before tugging the denim down until they slide down my thighs, leaving me in my boxers and a ratty old T-shirt that smells like cigar smoke from the expensive Cuban stogie I bribed Knight with.

The way she stares at the growing bulge trapped behind my boxers only has me getting harder. And when she reaches out to cup me?Jesus fucking Christ.It’s game over.

Wanting more, I wrap a fistful of hair around my hand and pull hard enough to make her look at me. “Is this what you want, Peaches?”

All she does is swallow.

I tighten my grip, getting a sharp intake of breath from her as her hand tightens around my aching cock. “Use your big girl words,” I coax, my hand trailing down to grip her throat. “I want to hear you tell me what you want.”

Her breathing picks up, and I feel her throat bob with another nervous swallow. “I-I…”

My eyebrows go up in wait, my fingers itching to tighten even more around her pretty little neck. I can tell her whatIwant to do to her, but that’ll come later.

Then, to my complete but delighted surprise, she whispers, “I want you to fuck me.”

Fingers twitching around her throat, my nostrils flare. When we lock eyes, something in me snaps.

And suddenly, it’s me who’s in control again.

My lips crash into hers, my tongue and teeth dominating her mouth as my fingers work their way under the robe to slide it off her. When she’s bare to me in only a skimpy bra and panty set, I waste no time stripping off those items too until her perky breasts are in my hands and her pussy is readily available.

“Touch yourself,” I instruct.

---