Keats set her down, and Colby wrapped his arms around her from behind, moving them into the shadow by the garage. “I don’t feel like running a marathon, but I can think of some other things we could do to burn off energy.”
“Charades?” Keats suggested.
Georgia turned her head. “Monopoly?”
Colby grunted and his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, tracking over her belly. “Smartasses.”
Keats’s eyes followed the movement of Colby’s hand, and his teasing expression melted into something more base. “Well, there are some other games we could play.”
“Agreed,” Colby said next to her ear as he let his hand dip just a little below her waistband. “I’m thinking that How Many Times Can We Make Our Girl Lose Her Mind in One Night could work.”
Keats closed the space between them and pressed his body up against hers, his hips bumping the hand Colby had against her. “Best game ever.”
Colby kissed the back of her neck, and Keats leaned forward to take her mouth. She closed her eyes, falling into the sensations of being caught between the two of them. They could overwhelm her in an instant and she loved it, loved l
osing herself to the moments where it was all roaming hands and warm bodies and whispered words.
Both men were growing hard against her as they stood there, making out in the dark corner of the driveway. Her insides turned molten. She wasn’t sure she could ever get enough of these two. Every time they touched her, it was like her body was starved all over again, like she’d never been touched before.
Colby kissed the spot behind her ear, sending goose bumps down her neck. “Maybe we should take this inside.”
“Good idea,” Keats said, pulling back and smiling. “Wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors. They may want to join in.”
Georgia laughed, but when they took her by the hand, and she turned to look back at the house that had been her prison for so long, she saw a shaft of light fall over a face in the window. Her old hiding place.
Her breath caught for a moment, but then their new neighbor, an older lady who’d moved into the house after Georgia had vacated it, lifted her hand in a little wave as if to say, “Don’t mind me. Go on and do what makes you happy.”
And Georgia couldn’t help but smile and give a wave back.
Because she was.
Finally, she was the scene on the other side of the glass. She was one of the happy ones.
She was theirs.
Read on for a sneak peek at the next Loving on the Edge novel
CALL ON ME
Coming July 2015 from Berkley Books!
ONE
“Are you touching yourself?” The voice in Oakley’s ear sounded labored and overeager—like a Saint Bernard attempting phone sex. He was probably drooling, too. Lovely.
“Yes, you make me so hot”—she quickly checked the sticky note she’d put on the kitchen island—“Stefan.”
Stefan. Literature professor. Single. Six foot five.
That was the info he’d given her. Which probably meant: Steve, unemployed, married, and five-six on a good day.
He groaned. “You’re so sexy.”
Sexy? Two points off for lack of originality, Mr. Lit Prof. Though even the suave guys tended to forget their vocabulary when they got to this point in the conversation. Oakley covered the mouthpiece on her headset and turned off the timer on the oven. If nothing else, she was impressed the guy had lasted through the full baking time.
“Thanks, sugar,” she said, letting her tone drop into a lower register.
“God, your voice is so fucking hot.”