“Yes, I was modeling. Well, kind of.” She stroked the back of her fingers across his nipple fleetingly, and then passed back a second later. The peak had hardened. “Is the pain easing? Did they give you anything?”
“Yes, and with you here for me to look at, it’s much easier for me to forget the pain and the whole damned Zoë problem.” His voice was low and controlled.
Georgie let her hand trail down to his belt, playfully tugging at the worn leather that hung down across his fly.
“Do you remember how you distracted me from the pain when you did my tattoo?” She threw him a suggestive glance as she smiled at her own remark.
Jason nodded again, and his mouth curled at one corner, giving her that sexy smile of his. She crept between his legs, her hands running the length of his thighs, so hard and strong through the denim. Then she ran her fingers across the surface of his fly with the lightest touch, eliciting a subtle flex of his hips toward her, before her hands roved up across his chest again.
She kissed his mouth, firmly but gently. Then her mouth edged along his collarbone, her tongue taking the salty sweat from his skin with her slow, wet kisses. He shifted, his wounded arm resting, the other closing around her back, stroking the kimono down from her body to drop on the floor. His hand ran lightly over her back as she kissed his chest, his strokes in rhythm with her tongue’s movements.
She kissed his skin long and attentively, sucking gently, while she felt the stirring of his erection through the denim of his jeans. She nestled close, pressing one breast over the hard outline. His fingers paused their strokes momentarily, and then continued, more slowly than before. She sat back on her heels and undid his belt.
Cal came back from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel as he walked. He stopped when he caught sight of Georgie’s fingers taking their first gentle stroke over Jason’s distended cock.
Man, she looked so beautiful -- beautiful and sensuous. Arousal quickly gathered in his loins. He threw the towel over his shoulder and sank back against the wall to watch.
Jason was stretched back on the sofa, his eyes closed as he released himself to her. She curled over him, her back flexing as she moved to spread her kisses along the erect shaft of his cock. Cal could see from the slight twitches it gave, as she sucked in small, tender bites along its length, that her mouth was working its magic.
Her tongue flicked in and out, following the shape of the engorged tip as she tasted its flavor. When her tongue ran against the line of its swollen head, Jason’s body flexed, and he groaned. At that, she plunged over him, taking the shaft against the roof of her mouth, her fingers moving through his black pubic hair to nestle his heavy balls into the palms of her hands. She alternated from darting touches on the tip of his cock to circles around its head, and then rode the length of it fast, working him up into a whimpering frenzy. He flexed his hips and whispered her name repeatedly, then grunted loudly as he came. Georgie’s fingers swept up his shaft, her lips closing tight around him. She was intent on swallowing him. Cal watched as the jerk and thrust of Jason’s cock was echoed in her throat when she gulped him down.
Cal was uncomfortably aroused. His erection pressed against the enclosure of his jeans. He’d been taking pleasure in watching and in restraint, but he couldn’t bear it for much longer, and his hand pressed hard against his cock. The contact was such a provocation, making it demand all the more. He stole open his buttons and freed his erection, his hand closing a rhythm over it within a heartbeat. His shoulders pressed into the wall, his hips thrust forward. He looked away from the couple softly entwined in a salty kiss, to the powerful erection that she had invoked in him, as well.
The angry head throbbed in his grip, swelling dark purple with the blood that pounded there. It seemed to stare at him accusingly, confronting his vicarious habits. When he came, he just managed to capture its outburst in the towel from his shoulder. Gratified, he bit his lip to eke out the sensation, his mind full of images of Georgie. Watching her brought him such bittersweet pleasure, but for some reason it was getting harder not to drag her away for himself.
When he joined them a while later, she was curled up on the floor by the sofa. She and Jason were talking in quiet voices. Georgie’s head turned toward him. She smiled up at him. Her expression showed the passing knowledge of his peripheral involvement. She was perfect in every way. He was fast growing attached to her.
He bent to kiss her forehead, then opened up a folding chair and sprawled in it. He glanced over at Jason. He looked tired. “You’re a damned healthy creature.”
Jason gave a gentle laugh. He was getting drowsy, the combination of painkillers, brandy, and a heady orgasm leading him into slumber.
“He should get out of London for a while,” Cal commented after Jason had drifted off to sleep. “Take a break from the controversy and let Greg cool his heels until it’s over.”
“Good idea, but if you’re going away for a few days, can I come along for the ride?” Georgie smiled. “Term is over, so there’s nothing to keep me here, for now. I’d rather be with you ... and we have the work for your exhibition to think of.”
Her expression was so warm, so desirable, how could he deny her after she’d said that? After a moment, he nodded. He’d meant to send Jason packing for his crimes against past lovers, but a few days away from the city was an attractive prospect. Besides, Georgie might be associated with the Greg issue. Greg had seen her with them. The last thing Cal wanted was for him to start stalking Georgie if they left her alone in the city.
“It would get me away from Richard, too,” Georgie murmured. “Another good reason to get away.” She pulled her kimono around her shoulders. “We could go to my father’s place in Randlethorpe for a few days.”
She hadn’t talked about her home before. “Sounds good. It won’t be a problem?”
“Not at all. There’s plenty of room. I’ll telephone Felice right now and let them know we’re coming.” She rose and walked over to the phone that hung on the wall close to the door. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling. “As an added bonus, Richard would never even think of looking for me there!”
He listened with interest to her talking to the woman on the other end of the phone. When she came back, he patted the sofa beside him, drawing her in against him when she sat down.
“All done. She’ll be expecting us sometime tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you want this ex, Richard, to find you?”
She groaned, putting her head back against the sofa. “He won’t take no for an answer. He’s just a pain in the proverbial.”
He nodded, but for some reason his curiosity had got the better of him. “Why didn’t it work with him?”
“Well, the sex was good, but there was no friendship, no companionship or mutual respect.”
“I don’t want to know about the sex.”
“You don’t?” She gave him a mock shocked stare.
“The real reason.”
“Ah.” She gave her answer careful consideration, while staring down at her hands. “This is hard.”
“Don’t tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, I do ...” She looked at him. “Richard was a control freak. As far as he was concerned, I was just there for him. He wanted a trophy girlfriend, and he ... he wouldn’t let me be myself, you know?” Her expression was filled with regret, and he wanted to wash it away, to take all the negativity away for her.
He lifted her hand in his. “I can’t imagine why. You are a goddess when you’re being yourself.” He bent to rest a kiss on her hand. “The man’s a fool.”
“Thanks, Cal.” She dropped her gaze, but not before he caught sight of the tears.
He put his arm around her, and she snuggled closer against his side. That felt good.
They would leave first thing in the morning. He wanted to get her away from the idiot who’d left the disappointed light in her eyes.
Chapter Seven
“I didn’t even know you had a car,
” Georgie remarked.
Cal glanced over his shoulder, putting his fingers to his lips to hush her. It was late -- or early, depending on which way you looked at it. The sky was filled with the feeble light that comes just before dawn truly rises.
With a gesture of unveiling, he walked over to the third of a row of five garage doors that were hidden at the rear of the building, embedded into what would have been the original cellars or delivery area. He pulled open the heavy doors. Georgie looked through the gloom and saw a chunky army jeep, all patches of khaki and rust and newly welded metal. Cal was smiling proudly at her as she looked on, amazed.
“Genuine World War II U.S. Army jeep. You won’t see many of these beauties in the UK.” He walked into the garage, his hands stroking tenderly over the vehicle as he passed.
“Is it road-worthy?” She looked dubiously at the exterior of the vehicle, which seemed to be well past its prime.
“The engine restoration is complete. Luckily.” He gave a quick reassuring pat on the bonnet, upon which was painted a large white star. “I wanted to give her a good test run soon anyway.”
Georgie nodded, still looking at it warily. She was wondering if it would get them as far as Randlethorpe. When coaxed, she walked around and slipped cautiously into the passenger seat.
When the jeep started, it coughed briefly and then roared into life as Cal leaned his foot against the accelerator. She snuggled into the threadbare leather of the front passenger seat. The interior was solid and regulation in design. The back seat had been reupholstered, but the rest of the interior bore the marks of a good life on the road and looked as if it could tell a few tales about its inhabitants over the years. Georgie liked it. She nodded and smiled at him approvingly. The engine sounded good, and as they drove up the slope from the cellar garage, she could see that it was indeed a sturdy, exhilarating monster of a vehicle.
There was plenty of room for Jason to stretch out across the back seat. He was quickly regaining his spirits following the confrontation he’d had, but Georgie gave him a bit more TLC for good measure, covering him with a blanket so he could sleep through the journey.
They called briefly at Georgie’s flat for her to grab a small bag of gear. Her camera, some toiletries. She didn’t need much. She had plenty of clothes in her old room at Randlethorpe. She sent Justine a text saying she’d been called away and would be in touch. She’d have to do without that advice on not falling for the wrong men, she realized with a wry smile.
By a quarter to six in the morning, they were roaring out of the city, ahead of the daily rush and away to a different landscape altogether. To her surprise, Georgie noticed that when they picked up some speed, it was a much smoother ride than she had expected.
“Hummer wheels,” Cal replied when she quizzed him about it. “Tires this size are a bit of a deviation from the original design, but it really makes it a solid ride, on and off road. Those big babies could stabilize anything.”
Yes, she realized, they were higher than she supposed the vehicle was meant to be, which gave her a great view of the sprawl of the capital and the urban spread beyond, and then later the countryside that was much more familiar to her. Mostly she looked at him driving, though. His shirt flapped open at the collar in the breeze from the open window, and she could see the broad, strong muscles of his chest. He drove with one hand stationed at midday on the wheel, the power to direct the massive vehicle coming from the strong muscle of his upper arm, conveyed through his powerful wrist. His other hand moved between the shift of the gear stick and a stroke on her leg.
She could have watched him driving like that all day long. The skin on her thigh prickled with anticipation each time he moved his hand, eager for his touches. They were going to reach their destination far too soon for Georgie.
* * * * *
Jason sat up, yawning, and looked out at the undulating landscape as the jeep cruised along the rolling road. The beauty of the heart of the English countryside lay resplendent around them. Tall hedges punctuated the subtle gradations of gently sloping countryside, breaking up fields of crops and occasional bunches of woodland. He gathered that they were nearly at their destination.
Georgie was directing Cal, and they were heading up a narrow road lined with tall oaks. It was a private road, and as they passed along it, Jason noticed that Cal glanced over at Georgie, a curious expression on his face. Jason was curious, too. She hadn’t talked much about her background, other than to say that she’d been brought up by her father -- whom she called a minor politician -- and that they lived in the countryside. It looked as if they were about to find out quite a bit more about Georgie girl.
The road suddenly turned and opened out into a huge gravel forecourt. Jason leaned forward between the front seats to get a better look and gave a low whistle of admiration when he saw the house. It was long and low, rambling. Large windows divided the old stones of the building. Ivy covered over half its surface, giving it a look of grandeur and permanence. Five wide shallow steps led up to the front door, which stood open, awaiting their arrival.
As Georgie got out of the jeep, two large red setters appeared from around the corner of the building and bounded over to her, barking loudly and alerting the house to their arrival. She bent down and returned the dogs’ enthusiastic welcomes and then turned back to the two men climbing out of the jeep behind her.
“Here comes Felice. She’s my father’s housekeeper.” She paused. “And, err ... companion.” She winked at them and turned to step into the arms of the woman who had come out to greet them.
Jason looked over at the other woman as he got out of the jeep, expecting a plump and motherly figure to be crushing Georgie into her welcoming arms.
He stopped and did a double take.
Felice was tall and elegant, with a shrewd look about her, a sophisticated woman in her mid-forties. She was wearing patent black shoes and a sleek mahogany-colored pencil skirt with a soft taupe cashmere twin set. Her auburn hair was fastened into a neat fold against the back of her head. A string of pearls slid gently back and forth across the curve of her breasts as she embraced Georgie and kissed both her cheeks in welcome. When she turned her attention to the men, she sidled over while she appraised the two of them.
Jason twitched, involuntarily. Everything about her said refined, yet predatory -- including the blatant look as her gaze raked over his body. She smiled at him and looked as if she were about to devour him whole. Jason was intrigued.
“And your friends, Georgie. You are very welcome.” She offered them each her hand, and Jason allowed its slim, cool embrace to sink into his senses. Her eyes were tawny brown. She smiled at him approvingly when he raised her fingers to his lips.
“Your father won’t be back until this afternoon,” she announced as she led them into the hallway. “And he has to leave very early tomorrow morning; he has a meeting in Brussels. This European Commission advisory work is taking more and more of his time. So much for retirement! But he knows you’re visiting and said he’ll see you later on.”
Georgie took her opportunity. “We’ll rest up until then, in that case. We were at a party until very late last night.”
Felice scanned over the three of them, knowingly, and she nodded. “I’ll show your friends to their rooms. You go and relax.” Felice embraced Georgie again. Their relationship was clearly informal and friendly. When she turned to the men, her smile indicated that she intended to behave that way with them, also. Jason grinned in return, his sorry state of affairs temporarily forgotten.
* * * * *
Georgie’s room was much as she had left it at the start of term. It had been her mother’s favorite room in the house, the one with the best view. She had died when Georgie was a toddler, and Georgie could still recall her father sitting her down and explaining that she was the lady of the house now, so she would have the special room. And it was special. It was large, gracious, and comfortable, decorated in warm autumn colors. It housed a writing desk to one sid
e of a solid oak fireplace, and a large oak four-poster bed. The bed had been her den when she was a child, where she would pull the velvet curtains closed in the winter and pretend she was in a tent somewhere far away. It was her platform for dreams as she grew up, and it looked as inviting as ever, covered in a thick quilt strewn with satin- and velvet-covered cushions in an array of vivid colors. The windows overlooked the gardens and, further away, the rolling fields of the surrounding countryside.
She wandered into the adjacent dressing room. She ran her fingers along the familiar chest of drawers and rails of clothes, smiling up at the shelf full of old teddy bears and her favorite dolls, almost hidden at the top. She hadn’t realized that she had been missing the place, but now that she was here, the familiarity felt good -- especially so as she was able to bring her friends with her for the retreat. A couple of days here would do them a world of good, as well as give the furor surrounding Jason a chance to die down.
She climbed onto the bed intending to doze, but almost as soon as her head touched the pillow, she drifted off into a deep sleep. Her dreams were punctuated with images of the painting and Cal working on it, and when she awoke she felt warm and sleepy yet aroused, her mind awash with images of herself seeking out sexual gratification in front of his watchful eyes. She lay on the bed, one hand behind her head, the other idly stroking her breast inside her cotton shirt. The nipple had been hard when she’d awoken. Since she’d met Cal and they had begun their work on the painting, she’d felt as if she was in a constant state of arousal. It was as if he had introduced her to her true and most sensuous self. Perhaps he had unleashed her deepest desires, she mused to herself. The idea made her purr, but once again she warned herself she would have to be careful with her emotions. He had never indicated he wanted more than what they already had, and she didn’t want to mess that up.
Along for the Ride Page 8
