w, now don’t get yourself worked up over it, George,” he said gently. “It looks a lot worse than it feels. You’ve been lying on me all night and I was fine.”
She glanced up. “I’ve been—why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve never—”
“You were pressed up against me. It was worth any discomfort.”
The words were so honestly delivered that it tugged at that thing inside her she couldn’t resist. “Now you’re just not playing fair. I can handle cocky. But I can’t handle sweet.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, though his gaze stayed serious. “You can tell me to stop and I will. Seriously. Just say the word. I’ll leave you two alone.”
“You want this?” she asked, knowing Keats was well aware of what was on the line here. “I mean, truly, both of us?”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Of course I do, George. You two are driving me a little crazy, actually. I have no goddamned idea what happened in the movie. But seriously, there’s no pressure.”
She traced gentle fingers over his injuries, her desire having a knock-down, drag-out fight with her good sense. “You scare me.”
He let out a little laugh at that. “Me? I would never hurt a hair on your head.”
“It’s not that. It’s just—you’re going through some big-deal discoveries about yourself, and I don’t want to be the girl you’re using to reassure yourself that you’re still into women. I don’t want to play buffer or get in the way.”
He shifted at that, sitting up straighter and taking her hands in his. “Look, George, I get the concern, and I may be a confused son of a bitch sometimes, but let me tell you what I know for sure. One—I’m into women. Really into women. I haven’t been faking it my whole life. So, sure, discovering I’m attracted to a guy is new and a lot to deal with, but it’s in addition to, not in replacement of, women. And two, I’m into you. This isn’t about finding the nearest girl and hooking up. If this were about proving my manhood or whatever, I could’ve gone to a bar tonight and gone home with a random girl.
“But instead I stayed here. Not just to hang out with Colby but to be near you, the woman who I haven’t been able to get out of my mind since I heard the two of you on the couch. I’m used to forward women. Or girls who know how to use their assets to get my attention. But it’s all flashy advertising. Once you get in bed with them, the confident act disappears as quick as the push-up bra and what seems like a daring night is really just . . .”
“Vanilla,” Colby offered from behind them.
“Yeah,” Keats agreed.
Georgia couldn’t help but smile. “Well, to their defense, you’re dating young women. At twenty, most of us don’t know what we want or how to ask for it. And the guys are usually thrilled enough if you know how to give a good blow job, so there isn’t a lot of motivation to explore further.”
“Exactly. And I enjoyed that kind of thing as much as the next guy, but when I heard you and Colby together, I realized I was missing out. The way you two own your dirty side is something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. You’re both these professional, put-together people on the outside, but you have kinky streaks a mile wide that you aren’t afraid to embrace.” Keats’s green eyes were dark in the low light as they met Georgia’s, and she lost her breath for a second. Naked desire sat there, any shield he’d been keeping up falling away. “And it’s so. Fucking. Hot.”
Georgia closed her eyes, her heartbeat speeding to that rampaging pace again. Colby’s hands slid onto her shoulders and gave them a squeeze, a show of support for whatever happened next.
“If you don’t want me here with you two, I’ll leave you alone,” Keats said, his voice quiet. “But if you want me to stay, I’m all yours. For whatever either of you want from me, I’m in.”
Nerves were trying to seize her. Having Colby behind her and Keats only inches away, offering himself whole, was almost too overwhelming to process. But there was no denying the deep, hot ache building within her nonetheless. She wanted Keats. She wanted Colby. Plain and simple.
She’d spent so long in a locked-down, smothering relationship and then trapped alone in fear. This was everything the past two years wasn’t. A fantasy, sure. But more than that, this was part of her old self clawing to the surface and gasping for air, looking for the light.
“What do you say, gorgeous?” Colby asked, his whisper tickling over her ear.
She slid her hand down to Keats’s hip and lowered her head. Keeping her eyes closed, she pressed a kiss to his bruised ribs, then slowly moved her hand to the hardening ridge between his thighs and curved her fingers around it.
Keats breathed out a curse and Colby’s grip left her shoulders.
She lifted her head and brought her face close to Keats. “I think we’re done with movie night.”
“Yeah?” Keats asked, his voice strained.
“Yeah.” She stroked him gently through his pants and put her mouth to his, letting the pent-up desire she’d been feeling for him from the very start pour into a slow, rolling kiss.
Colby’s mouth touched the back of her neck, his hands sliding over her waist, and it was done. The three of them.
No more lines in the sand. No more pretending.
They were all tumbling into the churning ocean together.
Not a life raft in sight.