Page 26 of Georgia On My Mind (Southern Promises)

“Turn around so I can get your back,” he whispered.

Turning, she grasped the vanity and watched his reflection behind her as he continued drying her back and shoulders. He flipped the towel over her head and massaged the top of her head, drying her hair. When he pulled it off, she laughed at her reflection in the mirror, her hair sticking out in all directions. Suddenly, his lips were on her neck, and she rolled her head to the side. His hands came up to her middle and squeezed her breasts. She could feel his hardness pressing against her bottom.

“Did I do a good job drying you off?” he whispered seductively.

“Oh, yes.”

His hands made a trail down to her clit, his fingers eagerly teasing the swollen nub. “Mmm. I prefer you nice and wet,” he uttered.

Gia was lost in the sensation, panting with want, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She was flying high as he expertly stroked her, on the cusp of another orgasm. Gripping the vanity, she pulsed with his hand, his body heavy against her back, feeling like she was about to explode. What was it about mirrors and this man? To see herself come undone in the reflection was sexy and hot!

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his staccato breath warm in her ear.

Her toes curled, and she bit her lower lip so she wouldn’t cry out, her insides shattering with a warm surge. With her eyes tightly shut, she slowly came down from the intense desire and leaned heavily against his rock-hard body. He kissed her cheek several times, allowing her to come back to life after the experience. When she opened her eyes, his reflection greeted her with a knowing smile. Heat rushed up the back of her neck and settled into her cheeks.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” he teased.

She turned around and rewarded him with a long passionate kiss.

They watched a movie during the afternoon, lounging on the L-shaped couch and eating microwave popcorn and dollar candy Hart had picked up at the store. Gia was nestled against him, popping Jr. Mints into her mouth, enjoying his companionship and laughter during the romantic comedy she had picked out on cable. It was as if they had been a couple for longer than a week, their chemistry and his easy-going nature unexpected and welcome. At one point in the afternoon, he had her shift and put her feet in his lap where he proceeded to give her the best foot massage of her entire life. Being a dancer, she coveted foot massages; the long hours on her feet and endless beating they took often causing soreness and fatigue. The way his strong hands kneaded and his thumbs dug into her pressure points almost caused her to have another full-blown orgasm right there on the couch.

When it came time for dinner, they stood side-by-side in the galley kitchen and made homemade pizza, placing a variety of toppings all over a pre-made crust. The laughter continued, and they flirted while sipping on bottled beer and listening to classic rock cranked on the stereo. The light of a single pillar candle in the middle of the dining room table cast a sexy glow across Hart’s face as he poured her a glass of red wine, the music changed to soft jazz. He hadn’t questioned her any more about her past or her family. She almost felt guilty for being thoroughly pampered while withholding information from him. He was a good guy, only trying to get to know her better.

Pushing her empty plate away, she took another sip of wine and sighed, enjoying the candlelight dancing in his brown eyes.

“Did you get enough to eat?” he asked quietly while the melody of My Funny Valentine echoed out of a lone, sexy saxophone.

“I did. It’s been the best day. Thanks for going to all the trouble.”

Shaking his head, he poured the remnants of the wine bottle into her glass. “No trouble at all. And you’re right. It has been the best day.”

She clasped her hands on her lap underneath the table. “I want to apologize to you, Hart.”

A flash of concern swept over his face. “Apologize for what?”

“For not being forthcoming with you this morning. You asked me some normal questions any guy would ask a girl he’s trying to get to know, and I shut you down. That wasn’t fair.”

“Gia, it’s okay. You obviously don’t want to talk about it, so I’m not going to push.”

“But I do want to talk about it now. You deserve to know the truth. It’s just…hard. But I’m willing to try.”

Hart reached his hand up and stroked her cheek. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me anything. I’m the one who’s sorry for badgering you like a dumbass. It’s all good.”

Gia bit her lower lip and nodded, staring down at her plate. Without looking at him, she spoke very quietly. “I never knew who my father was.” Letting those awful words hang in the air, she nervously twisted the napkin in her lap before forging ahead. “My mother was an exotic dancer for an Atlanta club, which led to a horrible drug habit. She died of an overdose when I was nine.” When she mustered the strength to look him in the eye after finally divulging her secrets, she immediately noticed his expression was one of sympathy and concern.

“Oh, Gia…”

“No, it’s okay. It was tough growing up without real parents like most people had, but I’m at peace with it all now. You need to know that. I really like you, and I want to continue to see you. I don’t want there to be anything weird between us.”

“Come here,” he requested.

She went to him and sat in his lap. He laced his fingers with hers and looked at her with intensity. “I’m proud of you for having the courage to share that with me. It means a lot. You can tell me more if you want, or leave it where it is. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I want to continue to see you too. You’ve done a real number on me.”

They sat in silence for several seconds before he kissed the tips of her fingers and chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten quiche with a woman before.”

His random comment made her laugh out loud, her heart surging with affection. She had finally met a man she could confide in—a man who truly made her feel safe and adored. Grabbing his face by the cheeks, she pulled him in for a passionate, wine-soaked kiss as the sexy jazz floated all around them.

Chapter Fifteen

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