We let go of each other and lean against the railing. Some of the people on the porch cast us surreptitious glances, and all the faces are familiar to me. They know who Georgiana is; she stands out as a foreigner in a small town like this. Just the dress she’s wearing is something you’d have to order online to get to Ashleigh Lake, unless you drove to Boston to shop. I sense that word has been spreading that Raiden and his intern have something going on beyond building a tiny house. They’re all waiting with bated breath to see what’s going to happen next and who will get to spread the word first.
I turn towards her. “You know, if we want to make this official, all I need to do is kiss you right now.”
“Then you’d better kiss me, Raiden, and take me home because I’m done dancing with the only man I will ever want to dance with at a country dance.”
Her words make me smile and joy bursts in my chest. I circle her waist with my arm and draw her close. “Georgiana,” I say before cupping her cheek and lowering my lips to hers. I kiss her for all to see in the faint glow of the porch lights and she rises against me, fingers sliding up my neck and into my hair, kissing me back as if I’m the only man she’s ever wanted to kiss and came all the way from Miami for this exact moment.
When we break apart, I press my forehead to hers. “Do you want to go get a room before they ask us to?”
She chuckles and presses a sweet kiss to my lips. “As long as the room is in the boathouse because I somehow fell in love with that quirky place.”
I press a final kiss to her forehead and take her hand. “To think you called it a shack when you arrived.”
“Hmm, it’s definitely not a shack,” she teases as we walk off. “It’s a much happier place.”
“I have a few ideas for a name upgrade, but I’ll let you come up with one yourself.”
We walk hand in hand to my truck. I open the door for her and make sure her skirts are tucked in before I close the door and circle to the driver’s seat. More people are arriving as we leave, and someone is already waiting for my parking space, so we make a quick escape.
We hit the road, and I reach for her hand and settle it on my thigh in quiet anticipation as we drive home. Once I park outside the boathouse, I help her out of the truck. She has a hard time finding her balance on the uneven gravel and her hand clenches mine tightly.
“We can’t ruin those sandals on gravel driveways,” I say as I scoop her up.
She squeals in surprise and circles her arms around my neck. “Yes, please. I’m not high-heel fit anymore.”
“The heels are the first to go,” I say as I ease her down to open the door. I lead her straight to her room, not even thinking of going anywhere else.
“Wait here,” I order as I switch on the bedside lamp and leave her standing by the bed.
I return seconds later with my drugstore purchase and place it on her nightstand.
She raises an eyebrow at me. “Big plans, I see,” she jokes as she runs a fingertip down my chest.
“The only plan is not to run out.” I catch her hand and make her sit on the bed, then drop down on my knees at her feet. I unstrap each delicate sandal and kiss her ankles one at a time, then move higher, to the bend of her knee and the soft skin of her inner thigh as far as her skirt will allow without pushing it out of the way.
“You’re one in a billion, aren’t you, Raiden Logan,” she says, as I stand again and reach for her hands to pull her up.
“Now the dress.” I’m burning with the need to finally see all of her in the soft lamplight.
Georgiana reaches for the side of her dress and slowly lowers the zipper. The dress loosens from her body and drops down to the floor. No bra… I swallow as I take in every dip and rise of her hips, every curve and valley of her breasts, to the flat plane of her stomach and her sweet navel that leads my gaze lower, to where a pair of lacy ocean blue boy shorts hugs her butt.
I reach for her, brushing my knuckles down the side curve of her breast, teasing her erect nipple with the back of my finger, feeling how her breathing stalls as her body begs for more. I swallow and close my eyes as I raise my hand and caress her other breast in the same way, teasing, flirting, until she leans into my touch and with a desperate little moan, captures my hands in hers.
She presses a kiss in each palm before she settles my hands on her hips and reaches for my shirt buttons. “Two can play at that game, you know,” she says as she starts to undress me, her fingertips fairy kisses on my skin. As my shirt joins her dress on the floor, she kisses from my collarbone, across my pecs, over my scar and back to my lips where she traps my aroused groan with her own.
“Here,” I say as I push her hands down to my belt buckle. “Finish what you started.”
With a throaty chuckle she unwraps me like a gift, and soon I’m naked, and with her in only a pair of panties, I gather her in my arms and lower us to the bed.
We kiss, her hands exploring my body, and my fingertips whisper back with gentle strokes and soft touches. When she pulls me on top of her, her legs closing around my back, my cock pressed tight against her sex, our gazes connect. “You want this, right?” I stroke my hand down her hip, over the bit of lace that’s the only barrier between us.
“Please, and don’t hold back.”
I kneel and tug her panties off her body and her legs drop open, her sex glistening wet. I want to feast on her, taste her, but she’s reached for the box of condoms and holds it out to me.
She watches me as I get busy and runs her fingers along my length as soon as I’m done. For a moment we gaze at each other, holding off feeding our mutual hunger, because with the intensity of our arousal, this is going to be quick.
I break my gaze away and stroke her mound with my thumb, circling her clit in sweet torture.