His brows knit together. “But?—”
I take the opportunity to slip out from under him, rolling him onto his back. I lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I promise you, I will let you. But… first I want to take care of you.”
He looks like he’s going to protest. But I slide my hand down his body, across his hip, along the inside of his thigh, keeping my eyes trained on his. And I see the moment he acquiesces. I can’t imagine how this man could ever have become convinced he doesn’t deserve to be treated like he’s special, but I think I’m going to make it my new life’s mission to make sure he knows just how much he’s worth.
I dip my head and slowly begin taking him apart. I take him into my mouth, teeth scraping gently down his length. His head falls back against the pillow. I pull back, swirling my tongue, and he lets out a little sound. I take him in again, and he gasps, angling his hips to give me better access.
It’s quiet here. Just us and the sounds of our breathing, our heartbeats. He lifts his head slightly to look at me. I can’t help it, I slide back up to catch his lips with mine again.
I pull away, breathless.
“Just a minute,” I say, before retrieving a little bottle from the bedside table. I hold it up, raising a brow in question. He nods, dropping his head back and letting out a sinful groan that goes straight to my crotch.
I nestle back down between his legs. His fingers slide into my hair. I take him in again, slide my lips around him, a slick finger teasing, then pushing inside him. His hips buck.
“Oh, God, George,” he breathes.
All I manage is a moan in response. I keep up my rhythm, quicken my pace. He whimpers, almost senseless now. I crook my finger, and search until I find the spot that makes him arch up. His fingers tighten in my hair.
His breathing grows ragged, and I know he’s close. I flatten my free hand against the warmth of his skin. I look up and see he’s watching me with something like awe. I lock my eyes on his, and it’s just him and me, together, here. Finally. He cascades over the edge.
As he settles, I pull back, bringing myself up to sit on my heels, but he chases me, taking my lips with his, pulling me against him.
“Mmmm,” is all he manages. Then, “now you,” as he tries to maneuver me onto my back. But I’m too close. Way too close.
“No, I…” I pant. But I can’t form words. Instead, I take his hand and bring it to where I need it, wrapping mine over his.
The skin of his palm is rough and warm and it takes embarrassingly little. But pleasure shoots through me and then bliss, burning white hot and then slowly, slowly, slowly fading to embers. And then I’m grinning against his shoulder. “Jesus.”
He runs a hand along my jaw, planting a kiss on my ear. Soft, gentle, familiar. “Next time,” he whispers.
I lean into him, his steadiness, his warmth.
“Next time.”
DECEMBER 31… AGAIN
EPILOGUE
OWEN
I am puttingthe finishing touches on a tray of canapés when George slips his arms around my waist. He leans his head against my back and mumbles into my sweater.
“You okay, babe? I'm sorry about this; it got out of hand.”
Admittedly, there are more people in the apartment than I think it should reasonably hold. But it's New Year’s, and I can think of no better way to spend it than with friends. Well, almost no better way…
“I’m good.” I turn to plant a kiss on his temple. “Just regrouping.”
He steals a puff pastry cup and pops it into his mouth. “Oh my God, how are you so good at this, and what did I do to deserve you?”
“You were you?” I reach out and swipe away a tiny bit of brie from the corner of his mouth with the pad of my thumb, smiling at him.
“Mmm, that can’t be right.” He slides his arms around me, pressing me into the countertop. I brush my lips over his, and we get lost in each other for a while.
A loud laugh from the next room—Allie, if I had to guess—jars me back to reality. “Right. We should probably…”
“Yeah.” He takes the tray of appetizers from me, and we rejoin our guests.
