Wild (The Ivy Chronicles #3)(56)

“A drunk who doesn’t even know when I move him from the living room to his bed after he passes out on the floor.”

“Your brother—”

“Is my brother. Not my parent. And he has his own life. Pepper is his family now. But you’re right. I don’t live under anyone else’s expectations. I follow my own rules.”

And I envied him that freedom.

My breath caught as his hand slipped around to my bottom. He gave me a hard squeeze and then slipped down even farther, his fingers inching down my thigh to the hem of my dress.

His voice continued in a husky pitch, “You should try it.”

“Try what?”

“Being an adult.”

“I’m twenty years old,” I shot back, an awful feeling trickling through me.

“That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a number. Especially if you’re still acting like a scared little girl . . . too afraid to live the life she wants for fear of disappointing Mommy.”

The languor that had been filling my body vanished. Fury blossomed inside my chest. Now I recognized that awful feeling . . . knew it for the fear it was. But he was right. That’s what infuriated me the most. I grabbed his hand and halted it where it had started to slide up the hem of my dress.

“I’m a scared little girl?” I squeezed out from between him and the wall, thinking: watch me.

I started marching back down the hall toward the living room, following the sound of music and voices.

“Georgia, what are you doing?” The taunting quality had fled from his voice.

“Going to get my kink on with some random guy,” I flung out.

“You know you’re just proving my point.” He was following. His voice sounded like it was right behind me, so I walked faster—as much as I could in the stupid dress. “You don’t like hearing the truth, so you’re throwing a tantrum.”

“Then that ego of yours should feel great about being right.”

“Damn it, Georgia.” He grabbed my arm and swung me around. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you go into that room to hook up with someone else.”

“Maybe you need to stop treating me like a little girl.” I cocked my head. “That’s what you’re doing. Bossing me around. Playing protector. I already have a mom and a dad.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly aware that you have parents.” One of his eyebrows winged high. “Even thousands of miles away they still manage to control you.”

I hissed a stinging breath. “I’m not Rachel. You’re not my protector. You don’t have to follow me around to make sure I don’t dive off the rails. I’m not going to swallow a bunch of pills.”

It was a low blow. Hot color stained his cheeks, and I instantly regretted the words. I opened my mouth to say so, but his fingers flexed around my bare arm. “Oh, I know exactly who you are. No mistake there. I probably know you better than yourself.”

He opened a nearby door and pulled me in after him. Shutting the door, he pressed me against it, his body aligning with mine, fitting against me so perfectly that the familiar ache was back, slamming into me full force. “I also know that all this fighting is just foreplay. This is what you really came here for.”

His hips pushed into mine and I felt him there, his hardness nudging into where I most needed him. I shook my head even as a hot shot of joy raced up my spine. Why was I pretending? He was right. This was what I came here for.

I grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him hard, punishing him with my lips, hating and loving his taste all at once. I licked my way inside his mouth, swallowing his groan deep inside myself.

“That’s it.” He encouraged as I nipped at his bottom lip and sucked it deep before thrusting my tongue back inside his mouth.

One of my hands dropped from his face and worked its way down between us, sliding under his shirt. I scraped my nails over his taut stomach, the flesh smooth and tight over his ridged stomach. He quivered beneath my fingers, and I continued south, covering him with my palm, letting him know exactly what I wanted.

“Georgia,” he choked as I stroked the hard shape of him, my excitement mounting as his erection grew against my fingers.

“Logan, I need you now.”

His fingers reached for the hem of my dress, inching the tight fabric up my thighs. I wiggled, trying to help him. Cool air caressed the flesh he exposed. His fingers dragged a fiery path that made me squirm against the door and push into him. I broke our kiss and cried out when his hand slid around to cup my aching mound.

“What’s this?” With his mouth at my ear, he released me to yank my dress up past my hips. With the fabric gathered at my hips, his big hands slid down my bare hips and circled around to my naked backside. “No panties?”

His voice sounded hoarse and I choked out a whimper as he kneaded my bare bottom.

“It wouldn’t work with the dress . . .”

“You’ve been walking around without anything on under this little dress?” His eyes glittered at me in the dark room, the only light that from the outside perimeter lights that poured in through the French doors.

I nodded and then gasped as he brought one hand between us, unerringly finding and going right to that spot between my thighs that throbbed for him. His finger slid inside me, probing my aching wetness.