She drew back, breaking their kiss. “You’re shaking.”
“You are too,” he said, smiling. “The water is fucking cold.”
She moved, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her legs tightening around his middle.
“That’s the whole point,” she said. “The cold water, it’s supposed to be a rush, remember?”
“Yeah. I’m feeling it alright.” He turned and started walking to the shore, still holding her body tight against him, craving the contact as much as the warmth. “But I think it’s time to get out.”
On the dock, he reluctantly set her down and picked up a towel. He wrapped it around her, rubbing her arms to warm her up. He looked down at her chest. “You’re cold.”
“No.”
The towel slipped through his fingers, falling to the dock.
Georgia looked up at him, watching and waiting. But he didn’t touch her. He wanted her, so damn much, but there were things he needed to tell her, about Liam, the investigation—
“Close your eyes,” she said softly.
“Georgia—”
“Shh.” She pressed her finger against his lips, silencing him. “This might surprise you, but I have a long list of things I want to do to you too. Please close your eyes.”
This time, he honored her request. The second he did, he felt her fingertips on his shoulders. He swallowed a gasp. The other night, he’d been the one doing the touching and exploring. But he wasn’t going to deny the fact that he liked having the tables turned.
He felt her shift close, her breath tickling his ear.
“Push your responsibilities aside. Just enjoy the moment,” she said. “Easier said than done. Believe me, I know. But try. Trust me. Tonight, I’ve got you.”
Her lips brushed the skin behind his ear. And then the feel of her body hovering close to his, her mouth on him, vanished. He was tempted to open his eyes.
“Keep them closed,” she said. Her voice sounded lower. The grass at his feet rustled, and a fully formed picture of what was happening, what she planned to do, filled his mind.
“Georgia.” Her name on his lips was a plea to both keep going and stop.
Her hands wrapped around him, running up and down his dick. He moaned.
“I haven’t reached the good part yet.” He felt the words on the skin her hands continued to caress, up and down. One hand fell away, wrapping around his body, holding him close. Her tongue licked away the moisture slipping out the tip of his erection.
Eric opened his eyes and stared up at the stars. Her lips surrounded him, taking him so damn deep. He felt the sides of her hollow cheeks.
“Georgia.” He laced his fingers through her hair, drawing her down farther. His hips thrust forward, demanding control as he set the rhythm. She didn’t pull back.
“Georgia, stop me if this is too much,” he managed through clenched teeth.
She dug her fingers into his ass. She wasn’t letting go. Knowing she wanted this, shit, that turned him on.
One, two, three. He counted the stars, trying to hold off. He made it to five.
“I’m going to come.” He released her head, waiting for her to pull back. But she didn’t. Eric closed his eyes and let the orgasm wash over him. Right here, right now, it was pretty damn easy to follow her advice and live in the moment.
Slowly, Georgia let him go. He offered his hand, pulling her up and into his arms.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she said, tracing small circles on his chest.
“I have to admit, I’m hard-pressed to find a reason we waited so long.”
“There’s a long list,” she said softly, her smile fading. “Trust me.”
Shit, he knew he’d brought those reasons to the forefront of her mind. And his.
Eric stepped back, gently releasing her. He picked up the second towel, securing it around his waist, watching as she did the same. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Eric drew her against his side and headed up the hill to the house, stopping to retrieve the monitor.
“I want you to spend the night with me,” he said. “In my bed.”
“Yes.”
Eric exhaled and relief seeped in. Deep down, he’d been afraid she’d retreat to her own room, pushing him away again. “Good.”
She pressed in closer, as if she craved the feel of his body. “And tomorrow, I think we should tell Liam.”
Eric hesitated. Earlier, in the kitchen, she hadn’t given him a chance to explain the very real consequences of the DOF’s investigation. They had accused the person calling the shots on the White Rock job site of running chainsaws after the restricted hours. Liam. Georgia’s brother had been on-site harvesting those trees. Liam had been aware of the fire restrictions and told Eric he planned to run the equipment until one in the afternoon. But if he’d gone over, even by a few minutes . . .
Moore Timber could afford the fine. He kept a reserve for such occasions because forest fires were always a threat. But the financial cost was only one piece of the puzzle. If the DOF determined they’d violated the fire precautions, Eric would be forced to let Liam go. It didn’t matter that he was Eric’s best friend. Georgia’s brother couldn’t harvest trees for Moore Timber if he broke the rules. Not if his actions when out in the field threatened lives.
Georgia slipped out of his grasp as they entered the house. He knew he should tell her about Liam and the investigation. But not now. Tonight had been hard on her, telling him about her time in Afghanistan. He didn’t want her worrying about her brother.
“We’ll tell him soon,” he promised.
Eric hoped like hell the DOF investigators were wrong. But until he knew for certain what happened the day the fire started, he couldn’t tell Liam about his relationship with Georgia. Eric couldn’t face telling his best friend that he’d violated his trust and slept with his sister, and then fire him.
Chapter Thirteen
GEORGIA STEPPED INTO Eric’s room and closed the door, blocking out the rest of the world. She’d been here before, standing in front of his bed wrapped in a towel, her body wound tight with need. But tonight, she was going after what she wanted, knowing there was no end in sight.
“Eric, look at me.”
He set the monitor on the bedside table and turned to her. Wearing a towel like some men wore kilts, low around his hips, highlighting the sculpted path down his stomach to what lie below, Eric stood with his feet apart and planted firmly on the floor. His hands moved to his waist as he watched and waited, following her orders.
“Watch my hands.” Her fingers shaking, she tugged at her towel. It fell to the floor, pooling at her feet. Her fingers brushed her breasts, drawing soft, teasing circles.
“Georgia,” he growled. He closed the space between them, tossing his towel aside, pulling her into his arms, and holding her tight against him.
“I thought you liked to watch,” she teased.
“Not tonight. I need to touch you.” He skimmed her low back, up her waist, and around to her front. He palmed her breasts, his hands caught between them. “But Christ, you’re still shaking. You’re cold.”
She reached for him, holding him close. “Warm me up.”
“I will.” His hands moved to her shoulders while every part of her screamed, touch me lower. “But first, a hot shower.”
He took her hand and led her into the attached master bath. He pulled a dry towel from the chrome bar with his free hand and draped it around her shoulders. He turned to the walk-in shower, opened the glass door, and adjusted the knobs. “It will take just a second to warm up.”