“Please, Colby,” she finally said. “I can’t take this much longer. I’m really begging this time. Please.”
“Mmm,” he said against her. “You know that just makes me want to tease you more.”
“Colby . . .” Now she was whining, which she knew was a ridiculous thing for a grown woman to do, but she couldn’t help herself.
A soft chuckle sent a puff of breath against her. “All right. Lucky for you I’m losing my patience, too.”
He shifted behind her and wrapped firm fingers around her hips, getting into position behind her. But it took longer than she could stand because he had to get a condom on first. She swayed restlessly, trying not to beg again. Everything felt oversensitive, desperate. The ropes had their own way of caressing her, reminding her of every inch of skin that was covered, and the exposed parts felt every change in the air.
But when he finally pressed the head of his cock against her entrance and thrust forward, everything in her converged to one aching, needy point. Her body still wasn’t used to his size and fought to accommodate him, but the pressure of him stretching and filling her sent her senses sailing. She pressed her face in the sheets, surrendering to him fully and without reservation.
He didn’t rush, even though she would’ve been perfectly fine with that, but he wasn’t purposely torturing her anymore. He was enjoying himself, sinking in deep and taking her with full, savoring glides. This part was about him, based on the gruff, pleased sounds he was making, and she was along for the ride. The hair-curling, sexy-as-hell ride.
“You look so fucking hot bound in my rope and spread around my cock,” Colby said, his twang getting heavier the closer to release he got. He ran a finger over her back entrance as he pumped into her harder. The touch was like a bolt of lightning straight through her. “I’m going to take you here one day, too. I want every part of you, Georgia. I want to find out every button that makes you moan like that.”
The words, his cock pumping into her, and him touching her there were too much. A powerful wave was building inside her, ready to take her down.
“Let go, baby,” he said, reaching around with his other hand and finding her clit. “Come for me.”
She would’ve even if he hadn’t said it was okay. It was too much to hold back. She cried out as everything in her burst through like sunshine piercing a thousand tiny windows. Her neck arched and she shrieked with the rush of it all, the sheer pleasure. Colby let out a shout behind her, thrusting deep and flattening her to the bed as he found his own release.
She melted into the sheets, floating in a haze, her body still contractin
g with aftershocks, and closed her eyes.
It was so much better on this side of the window.
Too bad she wouldn’t be able to stay.
NINETEEN
Colby’s eyes burned from lack of sleep as he lifted his chin above the bar in his garage/workout room. Last night he’d been exhausted when he’d gotten back into bed after walking Georgia home, but he’d tossed and turned, waking up every hour on the hour. Last night had been great. Beyond great. But Georgia’s leaving had left him unsettled. He understood why she needed to be back at her place. And it wasn’t like it was a requirement for him. He rarely had lovers spend the night. But when he’d gotten back from Georgia’s, his bed had felt damn empty.
Being with her last night had felt more right than anything had in a long time. He’d started out keeping it focused on exploring some of her boundaries, almost making it like one of his beginner training sessions. Fun and sexy but clinical in a way. That was what he was used to. But once he’d gotten her into his bedroom and had seen that she’d written no numbers down, everything had shifted. Something about Georgia made him feel more dialed in, more present. Even the mild kink they’d done had felt more intense than any of the extreme stuff he’d practiced at The Ranch lately.
Plus, those moments in the kitchen when he had her under his hand, knowing she knew Keats was listening. Well, it’d added a layer that Colby hadn’t been able to ignore. He’d felt like he was getting a taste of what he’d been starving for over the last few months. And it was all temporary.
Temporary. Like his job might be. Like his whole life might be right now.
He’d finally given up hope for sleep around six this morning and had gotten up to get some things done. First, he’d called Principal Anders to check in, and she’d told him that she’d set up an appointment for him late this afternoon to speak with the powers that be to give his side. She’d also informed him that a doctor had interviewed Travis, and the kid had admitted he’d been off his meds for two months and had been lying to Dr. Guthrie about it. So even if Colby had asked him, he wouldn’t have gotten an accurate answer. Anders had said she thought that boded well for getting Colby cleared and back to work.
It’d been welcome news for sure. He’d gone over that session with Travis in his head again and again. And though he wished he could’ve done something to prevent what had happened, in his heart, he knew he hadn’t been negligent in Travis’s care. But he still couldn’t relax. Travis’s parents weren’t going to stop looking to place blame. And they had money to burn if they wanted to drag this thing out. But at least Rowan seemed to be in his corner, and he would get a chance to tell his side later today to the board. He just hoped that and the truth were enough.
Thinking about all his students being shuffled around and tossed onto Dr. Guthrie’s caseload made his stomach hurt. He’d made a promise to those kids. He was supposed to be the one who was there for them when they needed it. He’d promised Katelyn Bowie that he’d teach her relaxation exercises so that she could calm down before her big algebra test. That test had now come and gone. And he’d finally gotten Jake Latham, after months of near-silent sessions, to start talking about his mother’s death. Now the kid would have to start over again with Guthrie.
It was fucking brutal being stuck at home, doing goddamned nothing, when he could be working with those kids. By seven, Colby had whipped himself up into a restless, angry state just thinking about it. So he’d turned to his first method of stress relief—music. He’d locked himself in his office and had managed to bang out a chorus for a song he’d been working on.
But even after all the creative effort, he’d still felt wired and restless. He’d gone downstairs to see if Keats needed anything, but Keats had already left to run an errand for Georgia. So he’d decided to go to his surefire method of clearing his head—exorcism by exercise. Most people who saw him probably assumed he was obsessed with working out, but really, it was the only form of therapy besides music that had ever worked on him. So he’d gone for a long run and was now well into his weights routine, dripping with sweat, but finally starting to feel a little more centered.
He had to keep reminding himself that things in his life had gotten complicated quickly, and his head was screwed up from all the rapid change. In the matter of a few days, his job had blown up, his neighbor had ended up in his bed, and his former student was back from the dead and all grown up. Even someone used to rolling with the punches couldn’t be expected to roll with all that.
At least not all of it was bad news.
Keats was here and safe. Sure, living with him was going to be . . . interesting. Colby’s wires were all kinds of crossed when it came to Keats, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle himself around him. He’d just need to set up some clear boundaries and stop doing stupid shit that blurred it—like letting Keats listen again last night. That’d been a lust-based decision, not a responsible one. Colby usually didn’t let his dick overtake his good sense. He wasn’t the guy who went off the rails with passion. Discipline and self-control were a bit of a religion for him. But the way Georgia and Keats had looked at each other last night when they’d walked into the kitchen had knocked Colby completely off track. He’d wanted things he shouldn’t.
Now he needed to get his bearings back. He’d set it all back to rights. He’d talk to Keats and establish some rules, apologize for last night. He’d enjoy his time with Georgia even if he knew it had an expiration date. Live for today, right? That’d always worked before.
He did a few more chin-ups, counting off, then dropped back to the ground. He grabbed a towel off the weight bench and mopped it over his face and chest, letting the fast-tempo music he’d put on beat through him. Finally, he could feel his mind settling a bit. But when he turned around, Keats was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.