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Neither was Georgie. Grinding quicker, revelling in the deep feel of him, hard and slick, pumping in and out, she lurched forward as shock waves rocketed through her. She clenched around him, the intensity forcing a moan from Oliver and a cry from her throat, a feral noise she’d never knew she could make. Dizzy and spent, her breasts glistening with perspiration, she lunged forward, her orgasm leaving soft whimpers in its wake and Oliver on the brink.
Sweat slicking his skin, he bucked three more upward thrusts and came hard, his pulsing release rolling his eyes back in uninhibited ecstasy as he clutched her thighs. A ragged “Holy fuck” burst through his grin.
Georgie collapsed on top of him, her short puffs of breath skating across his damp skin. Hazy and satiated, her bliss was interrupted with one thought.
Fuck, I’m in trouble.
TWENTY-NINE
OLIVER
The next morning, Saturday, January 9, 1993
Leafs record: 17 wins, 17 losses, 7 ties (in overtime)
A tender forehead kiss roused Oliver from deep sleep. His lashes fluttered, revealing Georgie’s slow retreat.
“Good morning, my handsome sugar glider.” Dressed in jeans and her #93 jersey, she twisted open a tube of lipstick. “Sorry I have to kiss and run.”
Oliver glanced at the clock on Georgie’s nightstand, its digital 8:35 red and defiant and reflecting off her alabaster pyramid. “Oh, right. Montréal.” He rolled onto his side for a better view as she leaned into a floor-length mirror and swiped a rosy hue along her slightly swollen lips. I did that. Smiling to himself, he gave his bedhead a satisfying scratch.
She pressed her lips once, twice, then tossed the makeup into her purse. “I’m surprised my alarm didn’t wake you.”
“That’s because you wore me out last night.” His grin grew as she dropped down onto the bed.
“It was hot, wasn’t it?” Running her fingers along his jawline, she purred, “My god, you were worth waiting for.”
As was she. Their gazes locked, Oliver couldn’t fight it any longer. I love this girl. His heart panged, knowing he’d just made their situation more complicated. “Shame you have to go.”
Georgie pouted. “I know. When I offered to help Kait months ago, I didn’t expect you.” She gave him a hug, one too short for Oliver’s liking, and stood again, returning to the clutter of makeup and stacks of photos on her dresser.
But as much as he would’ve loved having Georgie to himself all day, there was relief in knowing he’d have time alone to figure out how to tell her about Will. A sensitive approach was required, especially with the quasi-father-daughter friendship she enjoyed with Will, not to mention Oliver’s feelings for her. Most daunting, though, was how Georgie would react after the news. Would she choose Will over him? Walk out on their presentation? The unknowns left him adrift and queasy, and just when things between them were going so well.
He glued on a grin. “You’ll have a great time.”
“Not as great as last night.” With a smirk, she hopped on one foot then the other, tugging socks over her ankles. “Stay as long as you like, ’kay? Have something to eat, help yourself to coffee. Should still be hot.” She did a double take. “Oh, if you hear scratching on the balcony, that’ll be Ringo, my raccoon.”
“You have a—”
“He’s not really mine. I inherited him from the previous tenants. I named him Ringo ’cause he drums on the dumpsters out back.” Scooping up several small film canisters, she dropped them in her bag. “He usually shows up at night, but if he arrives earlier, could you give him a scoop of the carrot and turkey mixture in the fridge?”
“You cook for the raccoon but not for yourself?”
Her wry smile tipped into a laugh. “Priorities!” She packed her camera. “He’ll need a bowl of fresh water, too.”
Feed a wild raccoon, watch hockey—there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Watching her, his heart skipped. You’re so distractingly adorable. “Sure, no problem.”
“Ta!” She slipped her silver bangle over her wrist. “I’ve fed the frogs and left a spare key on the counter in case you want to shop or catch a movie. The Hyland and Hollywood cinemas are only a short walk from here.”
“I’ll probably head back, work on my report.”
“That’s one of the things I adore about you—your love for what you do!” Georgie crouched, delivering a much-desired kiss, soft and exquisite but fleeting.
Oliver blinked as she pulled back, a frown toying with her mouth. “Oops, lipgloss.” She gently wiped his mouth with her thumb.
“I don’t mind.” Oliver kissed her fingers. “I love how it screams I’m Georgie’s.”
“Branded by Law.” Laughing, she retreated from the bed, collecting her purse and a small backpack of overnight essentials. “Any souvenirs you’d like me to bring back?”
