body tightened at the touch and the little gasp she made reverberated in the dead silence of the bedroom. Colby’s head dipped between his shoulders, and Georgia imagined it was her he was whispering passionate words to. That deep Texas drawl telling her how good it felt to be inside her, how sexy she was, how he was going to make her come. He would be a dirty talker, she had no doubt. No sweet nothings from Colby Wilkes.
She closed her eyes for a moment as she moved her fingers in the rhythm of Colby’s thrust—long, languid strokes that had a fire building from her center and radiating heat outward. It wouldn’t take long. Her body was already singing with sensation, release hurtling toward her. But she wouldn’t go over alone. She forced her eyes open, the binoculars still in her grip, and found Colby again. His dark hair was curling against his neck, sweat glistening at his temples. And she knew he had to be close, too. Every muscle in his shoulders and back had tensed. All of her attention zeroed in on him, and in her mind, the touch of her own fingers morphed into his—his hands and body moving against her, inside her.
Every molecule in her being seemed to contract, preparing for the burst of energy to come. Her breath quickened, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. And right as she was about to close her eyes and go over, Colby jerked his head to the side toward the window. His heated gaze collided with hers through the binoculars—a dead-on eye lock that seemed to reach inside Georgia and flip her inside out. He knows.
But she was too far gone for the shock to derail her. Orgasm careened through her with a force that made the chair scrape back across the wood floor. She moaned into the quiet, the binoculars slipping from her hand and jerking the strap around her neck. The part in the curtains fell shut, but she didn’t notice. Everything was too bright behind her eyelids, too good, to worry about anything else but the way she felt in those long seconds. Enjoy. Don’t think. Just feel. The words whispered through her as her fingers kept moving, her body determined to eke out every ounce of sensation she could manage.
But, of course, the blissful, mindless moments couldn’t last forever. Chilly reality made a swift reappearance as her gown slipped back down her thighs and sweat cooled on her skin. She sat there, staring at the closed curtain and listening to her thumping heart. Colby couldn’t know, right? His gaze had felt intense and knowing because the binoculars had made him seem so close. But her window was dark, her curtains darker, and the moon was throwing off enough light that it would make the glass simply reflect back the glow.
But her chest felt like a hundred hummingbirds had roosted there, beating their wings against her ribs. She wet her lips and swallowed past the constriction in her throat. She had to look. Would her neighbor be striding over here to demand to know what was going on? Would he be disgusted? Embarrassed? Angry?
God, she didn’t even want to think about it. She wanted to turn around, go to her bedroom, and hide under the covers. But that’s all her life had turned into now—hiding. And though she couldn’t fix that situation, she refused to create another one. So she forced herself to lean forward and peel the curtains back one more time, leaving the binoculars hanging around her neck.
What she saw made the hummingbirds thrash more. Colby wasn’t in the room anymore. His friend was now with the woman in the bed, and both seemed totally absorbed in each other. Did that mean Colby had left and was heading this way to confront her? She was about to go to the front of the house to check the yard but then paused when she realized nothing had changed about the view. Nothing at all. If Colby had been concerned about a nosy neighbor, he hadn’t bothered to close the curtains or warn his friends. Surely he would’ve done that.
She sat there, debating and worrying, but soon Colby returned to the bedroom. The man and woman had finished. Colby had on a pair of boxers and had brought clean towels in for everyone. He didn’t look concerned. He didn’t glance over at the window. He seemed perfectly relaxed as he helped untie the woman’s hands, kissed her forehead in a friendly gesture, and then left his friends to sleep alone.
Georgia let out a long breath, sagging in the chair.
He didn’t know.
She should stop taking this risk—throw away the binoculars, put a bookcase in front of this damn window, and stop while she was ahead.
But she knew she wouldn’t. She would find herself here again.
Because if she didn’t have her secret nights with Colby Wilkes, what was left?
Four walls, long days, and fear.
She needed this. She just had to made sure he never found out.