Page 7 of Scandal With A Viscount

Georgie rose from her chair, deciding it was time to make her intentions known. “I’ll do the same and take advantage of a handsome escort.”

His eyes widened, and then she watched his throat work. She couldn’t be imagining things. He had to be interested.

He glanced at her chest for an instant, and then his eyes were back on hers. “Of course.”

Georgie placed her arm on his, grinning to herself. He led her to the stairs, and she opened her mouth to speak a couple of times but nothing came out. How does one exactly ask their brother’s best friend to bed them?

Louis, think you might want to get naked and climb on top of me? After you use your tongue between my legs, preferably.

“I . . . uh . . .” She stumbled over her words when they reached the top of the stairs and drew a deep breath.

“Were you saying something?” He glanced over at her in the darkened hallway.

“No . . . yes.” She silently chastised herself for being such a ninny. They were only a few footsteps away from her door now. “It’s just that . . . what I meant to say is, I’m not going to lock my door.”

He stopped and turned to face her in front of her chamber door. “I’m not certain I understand what you mean.”

Georgie drew a long breath finding her courage and then stepped closer to him. Her body almost touched his. “I think you do.”

“Georgie,” he breathed. “Go to bed.”

“See, you understand, perfectly.” She pressed up on her toes and put her lips to his. Not the most ideal thing to do if anyone should enter the corridor and see them, but she couldn’t stop herself.

He didn’t pull back. He stepped into her so she was pressed against the wall and deepened the kiss, running his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. He growled into the kiss when she sucked his tongue into her mouth, and his hard cock pushed into her hip.

Louis jerked back, raising his hands up in defense. “Forgive me.”

She continued to use the wall for support, unsteady from the loss of his warm hard body against hers. “Forgive you for what? I kissed you.”

“This is . . . that . . . that shouldn’t have happened.” Now he was the one stumbling on his words. “Max asked me to . . . goodnight, Georgie.”

He turned and retreated down the hallway, entering his own chamber. She stood in the hall for a few moments wondering what he was mumbling about regarding her brother.

Georgie collected herself and then entered her room. Her lady's maid was waiting, something that Georgie had failed to consider. If she had been successful at pulling Louis into her chamber, that would have created a bit of a situation.

Her maid helped her undress, brushed out her hair, and then departed after turning down the bed.

Georgie was far too worked up and restless to sleep. She paced her chamber, replaying every detail of the kiss. The ache between her thighs hadn’t settled, and even more torturous was that she had felt how he responded to her. He wanted her. But some misplaced notion of honor was keeping them from what they both wanted.

After a few more moments of pacing, she pulled her dressing robe over her shoulders and tied it around her body. She poked her head out of her chamber to see that the hallway was empty and then left her room barefooted.

The corridor was dark. Moonlight came through the tall window at the far end, laying a pale stripe across the carpet. She counted the doors. One. Two. Three.

She gripped the handle, hoping that he hadn’t locked it. When she gave it a try, she found he hadn’t. She turned the handle and it gave without resistance. She slipped inside without a sound and took care to close the door behind her.

The room was lit by moonshine and the glow of the fireplace. Silver-blue light illuminated the window, enough to see the shape of the furniture, the untouched bed, and Louis on the settee before the fire.

His shirt was unbuttoned to his stomach. His breeches were open. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed, one hand wrapped around his cock. The slow, tight stroke of his fist made her freeze in place.

Her whole body flushed hot.

She whimpered. His head snapped forward, and his eyes found her in the dark. For one suspended moment, neither of them moved.

Then panic hit his face.

“Georgie—Christ—” He lurched forward, hands scrambling to tuck himself back into his breeches, fingers fumbling with the buttons. “This isn't—I wasn't—you should not be in my room.”

She didn't move from her spot. “You didn’t lock your door either.”