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CHAPTER 7:
Ivy
Slowly, I awaken to the rhythmic sound of George’s heart beating beneath my ear. My eyes open, and I smile as I lightly run my fingers along his chest. After the movie, we went to bed and made love slowly, exploring each other in a way that was more intimate than the act itself. I’ve had relationships before, but I’ve never felt this electricity combined with such easiness. Other relationships, it had always seemed more on one side than the other. This feels good…right.
“What are you thinking?” George asks, his voice vibrating in his chest against my hand.
“You’re awake?” I ask as I look up at him.
He nods. “I’ve been awake for a little while.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I enjoy holding you.”
I smile against his chest. “I enjoy that, too.”
Rising up, I shrug into the silk robe that I brought with me. “How about an omelet? You make the coffee, though. Your machine is over my head. I’m worried I might break it.”
George rolls over, grabbing my hand and tugging me back down beside him on the bed. “I think we need to take a shower first,” he says as he pulls the belt of my robe loose and places a suggestive kiss on my cheek. “I’ll go start the water.”
When George returns, I am spread across the bed, my robe on the floor. As he stares down at me, I run my fingers down my neck, tracing the outline of my nipple and easing slowly across my stomach to nestle between my legs. His eyes are heated as his body responds to the sight. I delve deeper, moaning as I stroke my clit. With a low growl, he lifts me in his arms as I wrap my legs around him, my moist core balanced above his throbbing manhood.
He carries me to the shower, walking us into the steaming water, letting it run along our bodies in warm rivulets. Leaning my back against the shower wall, he presses his body against mine, his hips urging me in rhythmic taunts. I lower my hand, wrapping it around his hard shaft, stroking him and bringing him to me, rubbing his tip against my swollen nub.
George moans. “You’re so warm. I want to be inside of you.” I climb up him, sliding onto his rigid member, feeling him fill me all the way to my center. He thrusts inside me, holding me up against the wall. My hands grip his taut buttocks, pulling him in as deeply as possible, moaning as I feel him press into me.
Carrying me from the shower, he lays me on the bed, not caring that we are both dripping wet. Donning protection, he dives into me with a heated frenzy that is raw with need. As he moves against me, I feel the tension building, taking me to the edge. With a final thrust, we both explode, giving way to the tremors that shake our bodies.
It seems like forever before my breathing returns to normal. “Wow!”
George turns his head to look at me. “I think that sums it up.” He sits up and grins at me. “I guess I could go turn off the shower.”
Suddenly, I become aware of the background noise of the water running. “I completely forgot about it,” I say with a laugh.
George places a light kiss along the curve of my breast. “We were busy with other things.”
Donning my robe…again, I go to the kitchen and begin chopping fresh vegetables for the omelet. I hear George start the coffee behind me and then feel him as he comes up behind me and places his arms around me. “That looks good. You like to cook. Is that another secret talent? Am I going to have to get you an internship with Chef Gordon Ramsey, too?”
“Don’t worry. I am not an aspiring chef,” I reassure him with a grin. “I’m just trying to impress you.”
“Done,” George says as he kisses the top of my head. He walks over to the fridge and pulls out the orange juice we bought last night and a bottle of champagne tucked away in the back. “How about mimosas? I haven’t had a decadent breakfast in a while. Care to celebrate?”
“Sure.” As I crack the eggs into the bowl, I smile to myself. It’s like it’s all new and old at the same time if that even makes sense.
After breakfast, I start to gather my things together. I hate leaving, but I know my uncle will start to worry if I stay much longer, and that might lead to more questions that I’m not ready to answer yet.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” George asks as I am about to leave. “I hate for you to have to take the subway. It doesn’t seem right.”
“If Uncle Owen saw you dropping me off, he would go ballistic.”
“Then let me drive you to where the subway stop in Brooklyn is. At least let me do that.”
He has a point. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
George rolls his eyes at me. “Really? You have to ask?”
“Okay,” I say with a smile. It feels kind of nice to have him looking out for me.
