28
The moment Iundo the button of George’s jeans, he stops me.
“Wait.”
The command comes on a harsh exhale, and an immediate storm of doubt bombards my shaky confidence.
“Sorry.” I tug my hands back, my face flaming. “I’m going too fast.” Just because he spoke erotic words doesn’t mean he’s ready to act everything out. Damn adrenaline crush. I’ve been lusting after George for months now, while he probably just recently started thinking of me in any kind of romantic way.
“You’re not.” He grabs my hand and presses a hard, reassuring kiss against my palm. “But I’m not going to start something only for Jet to come barging in halfway through and ruin it.”
I let out a relieved chuckle. “How would she do that?”
“I don’t know. Stare at us, maybe. Meow in the middle of my dirty talk. Use my ball sack as a claw toy.” George stands, and I let out a surprised yelp when he grips my ass to lift me with him. “The possibilities are endless. Each one worse than the last.”
Chuckling, I wrap my arms around George’s neck and hold on as he carries me deeper into his home until we reach a closed door. It opens to a bedroom with walls painted a rich, dark blue. The man seems to like dark colors on his walls, and I find the decoration choice warm rather than oppressive. George quickly shuts us in, ensuring no cat disruptions will occur.
His bed is huge, and I can’t wait to roll around in the massive thing, but for the moment, he settles us on the edge. We’re in the same position we were on the couch, only it seems a hundred times more intimate because we’re in his bedroom.
I’m in George Bunsen’s bedroom.
I’m in myflight instructor’sbedroom.
No. Don’t think of it like that.
Hot palms cradle my face, holding me still as he meets my eyes.
“Hey.”
“Hello, George Bunsen,” I respond, then grimace at the overly formal greeting.
He huffs a laugh as his thumbs brush along my cheekbones. “We’re using full names now, Beth Lundberg?”
“Nope. Forget I said that. No full names. In fact, why use names at all? I’ll just use your ‘hot pilot’ nickname.”
“Excuse me?”
Ah, yes. He probably doesn’t know about that.
“They call you ‘hot pilot,’ ” I explain. “At the diner.”
His brows tick up. “They?”
“Riann started it. But now everyone does. Even Billy.” I don’t mention how the cook has taken to referring to George as“Beth’s hot pilot.”I honestly think it’s Billy’s bid to stop Sally’s matchmaking attempts.
“Doyoucall me ‘hot pilot’?”
As a flush warms my cheeks, I avoid his intense gray eyes. “Of course not.”
A pause. “Could you?”
“What?” I laugh, but the humor is all breathy. “Right now? Would that get you going?”
“Let’s try it and find out.” George leans in and kisses my neck. “And I can call you ‘hot pilot-in-training.’ ”
“Really?” I scoff. “That’s your sexy nickname for me? Five minutes from now, should I expect to hear ‘I’m coming, hot pilot-in-training!’?” The mocking note I try to inject in my voice keeps escaping me as George drags his teeth along my collarbone.
He stops, and I almost cry. “Five minutes?”
