Fix Her Up (Hot & Hammered #1)(88)

A muscle slid up and down in his throat. “Georgie, I can’t do this.”

Pain singed her lungs. “Are you . . . ending this thing between us now? I know it was only supposed to last through tonight—”

Travis clapped a hand over her mouth, his breathing harsh. “First of all, let’s stop calling it a thing.”

“Okay,” she mumbled slowly into his palm.

“What you’ve done for me, baby girl . . . bringing me out of the dark? It’s a miracle. Not a thing. You’re a miracle.” He closed his eyes, missing the awe that crossed her face. “You make me better, and I wish—I fucking wish I could do the same for you, but all I can offer is me. Other men can offer you the things you want. Family. Kids. I don’t know how to give you those.” His arms tightened around her. “But I don’t think I can let you go, either.”

Georgie felt like she was breathing through a straw. “Are you saying you want to be with me?”

“Want? No.” Travis brushed their mouths together, letting the tips of their tongues touch. “I’m saying I need you. I’m saying no to ending this tonight. I was an idiot to think that was possible.”

Georgie was shaken. Did he really just say those beautiful things? Was she in the middle of a dream? No. No, the warm male body pressed to hers was real, as was the emotion packed into every one of his words. I need you. Did he have any idea how much she needed him back? This man who’d blown her perception of him out of the water and replaced it with someone real and caring and magnetic.

Thank God. Thank God this wouldn’t be over in a matter of hours. It almost eluded Georgie that she’d succeeded in her plan to cure Travis of his relationship phobia, she was so relieved this man wanted more. They both did. Georgie slipped her fingers into his hair, her thighs lifting to circle his waist. Between them, his thick erection continued to pulse, and her body was now weeping for its almost-orgasm. “Where do I even start?” Georgie said quietly, dragging her fingernails along Travis’s scalp and watching his eyes glaze over. “Travis, I . . .”

Not the time, Georgie. They’d just decided to stop calling their relationship a thing. Declarations of love were a long way off. Maybe they’d never even get there. Bottom line, she needed to start small. Even though her chest felt like it might burst wide open from all the overstocked feelings.

A line formed between his brows. “What were you going to say?”

Georgie raked her nails lightly down his nape. “I was going to say I’m twenty-three, Travis. I don’t want kids right now. Or a husband. There’s all the time in the world.” The words sounded hollow to her own ears and Travis was still frowning, but she pushed through, getting to the part that was nothing but the truth. “Right now, I—I just want—”

“A boyfriend?” His chest lifted and fell. “If that’s enough for now, let me be yours.”

For now. Did that make them temporary all over again? Maybe. But the prospect of being with Travis without an imminent expiration date proved too tempting. “Where do I sign?”

Travis still looked troubled about her claim that the future could wait, but after a small hesitation, his mouth settled over hers again. And their lips moving together reignited the heat between them like two pieces of flint. Georgie spread her legs, looking up at the sexiest man alive through her lashes. And Travis took the bait like a dying man. He reached down with shaking hands and guided himself back between her legs, thrusting deep with a moan. “I need to come inside you so bad, baby girl. Deep.” He laid her down on the limousine floor. “I want it to stay there all fucking night.”

She let him lock her wrists above her head, a buzz humming in her blood. So full of love, she wondered if her chest might explode. “Give it to me.”

It was fast and rough, Travis’s forehead pressed to hers, eyes locked on each other as he pummeled her body. He moved at a merciless pace, slapping their hips together, teeth baring every time she squeezed him with her inner walls. They groaned words that made sense only to their ears, called each other’s name, and kissed as if frantic to memorize taste, texture, movement, breathing patterns. Travis freed Georgie’s wrists in favor of pressing her knees open, the pace of his hips turning punishing but, as always, mindful of where she needed to be touched, the engorged base of his shaft hitting its mark and turning Georgie into a clawing, writhing creature, her fingernails buried in her boyfriend’s ass. Urging him to buck, to use, to overpower. And he did. He did until tears leaked down her temples, the back-to-back orgasms blanketing her mind, narrowing her universe down to where their bodies joined.

“Goddamn,” he muttered into her neck, voice sounding pained. “I need to blow so bad, but you’re too beautiful when you come. Knock it off.”

“Who, me?” Georgie said breathlessly, putting mock innocence—her favorite tool—to use, because she couldn’t stand Travis in pain and it happened to be his kryptonite, too. She unsnapped the front of her strapless bra, bowing her back to present her bare breasts to Travis.

“Motherfucker,” he breathed, his hips snapping in a rapid rhythm, jostling her breasts. “No. No, no, no . . . I want to watch you one more time.”

She played with her nipples, pinching and rolling them between her middle finger and thumb. “But it feels so good when you fill me up.”