Keaton smiled bleakly.
“Do you value this coat?” Georgia asked.
“I do not even know what color it is,” Keaton replied with almost arid humor.
“Black, like all of your other clothes. Take it off.”
She plucked the glass free, and Keaton shuffled out of the coat. Georgia wadded it into a makeshift dressing, holding it against the wound.
“Hopefully, this will help. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“Not that I can feel, but then I did not feel that one,” he shrugged.
“Sit,” Georgia coaxed, pushing him back into a chair.
She traced her hands over his other arm, fingers probing the muscle, testing for any wetness or sharpness. Then across the broad width of his chest, over the curve of his pectoral muscles, and down the ridges of his ribs to his waist. His eyes stared into hers. She stared back, suddenly gripped by the absolute certainty that he could see.
His eyes… were beautiful. Grey and deep and expressive. She felt she could stare at them for hours. She realized that her hands had stilled on his hips.
“Am I wounded elsewhere?” he asked with a whisper.
A mere man should not be so attractive. What is it about this one that pulls at me so! What is it that makes me so desperate to make amends for our argument? He is not my lover, nor do I want him to be...
The lie of that thought was loud in her mind. Her body screamed against it.
“I have not checked everywhere,” Georgia whispered.
She slowly caressed his thighs, feeling his body shift at her teasing fingers. She no longer pressed or probed but instead savored the feel of the hard muscle. Knees, then calves and shins. No glass and no bleeding. She ran the backs of her hands up the inside of his thighs.
“No, you are not injured anywhere else,” she finally said, softly.
“You have not checkedeverywhere,” Keaton replied with a positively wicked smile.
Georgia froze, her hands resting at the top of his inner thighs.
“I… do not think I should check everywhere. Given what your demands were as the terms of our marriage.”
“But then we have already established my idiocy, have we not?”
Georgia laughed, turning her hands over so that her palms lay atop his thighs, fingers spread. His arousal was…evident. Hers could not be so easily seen, but it was certainly felt. She bit her lip, letting her eyes wander his body, even to his concealed but straining manhood, knowing that she could stare unabashed and not be seen.
Yet he must know that I am looking. He must be aware...
That thought was thrilling enough to make her stomach turn somersaults.
“Quite,” she breathed.
Head spinning with reckless, wanton thoughts, she leaned forward to bestow a kiss to the place where Keaton was most vulnerable. He groaned, whispering her name. It was all the reward she could ask for, making her delirious with her own desires.
Be careful! Remember what has been said! I must remember my goals and not become distracted. But… I am married. It is not wicked, though the time and place are perhaps inappropriate…
Georgia moved her lips against the bulge in Keaton’s breeches, feeling him respond to her lips and hungry mouth. His hand rested on her head, fingers twining in her hair. Instinct drove her now. Rational thought fled. All she knew was that she was giving him pleasure. That set a fire within her, a fire that demanded passion and desire as fuel.
Boldly, she worked the buttons of his breeches, one by one, her fingers trembling with anticipation. Keaton’s hands found her face, rough palms brushing reverently along her cheekbones, his thumbs grazing the corner of her lips.
“You undo me,” he growled, voice thick and low.
“You make it far too easy…”
