Shaken twisted fox book.., p.23
Shaken (Twisted Fox Book 2), page 23
At the end of the night, I close the bar and go home. When I sluggishly walk to my bedroom after work and dive into my bed, I miss the heat of her body next to me. Setting my alarm, I only sleep for a few hours before dragging myself out of bed. Knowing I’ll regret it later, I take an energy shot, pick up Georgia’s and Grace’s favorite coffee, and grab them breakfast sandwiches before heading to her townhouse.
My tired eyes dart open when Georgia answers the door.
“Damn, can I be a student?” I whistle, giving her a once-over and licking my lips at the sight of her in a black pencil skirt and white button-up top. My dick stirs.
She looks sexy and sophisticated. Even with her professional attire, Georgia puts her style into it with her earrings—two hoops with a moon hanging off one and a sun on the other and bright pink heels.
She laughs, slapping my chest, and steps to the side to allow me access into the house. “What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”
I drop the coffee and food onto the kitchen table. “Sleep can wait. It’s your first day. I came to see you and kiss you good luck.” Bowing my head, I give her a quick peck on the lips before wrapping my arms around her waist and dragging her into me. “But now that I’ve seen you, how about a good-luck orgasm?”
“I wish,” she grumbles, resting her chin against my chest as she peeks up at me. “Miss me already, huh?”
My eyes soften as I stare down at her. “You have no idea how lonely I was in my bed. Our sleepovers all week have spoiled me.”
She grips my wrist and holds it up to read the time on my watch. “You’ve only been off work for three hours.”
“And those three hours were miserable.”
She stands on her tiptoes, her heels still not bringing her to my height, and presses her lips to mine, smiling against them. “I missed you too.” She laughs. “Although it did feel nice not to have you hog the bed.”
“That’s why you should let me buy you a new one.” I drop my hands to her ass, grabbing a handful, and pull her closer to me—my cock hard just from the view of her and this conversation. “You’re coming over when you get off work, and I’m going to fuck you in this skirt.”
She shivers in my arms.
My lips go to her ear, and I know I’m punishing myself by getting us worked up when we can’t do anything about it. “When I push it up, do you want me to finger-fuck you or eat your pussy?”
“Oh my God,” she groans. “You need to stop before my excuse for being late is that I had to ride my boyfriend’s cock.”
“Gross, ew,” Grace says, walking into the room while shoving a sparkly pink laptop into her bag. “As if I don’t already hear enough of your banging at night.”
Georgia turns to face her, and I drag her ass against me, hiding my erection from Grace.
“Hey, he did buy you those noise-canceling headphones.”
Grace grabs her curly strawberry-blond locks and pulls them up into a smooth ponytail. “Do you know how hard it is to sleep with bulky headphones on your ears?”
I jerk my head toward the coffee and food on the table. “I at least brought you breakfast and coffee.”
Grace, who can’t hold a frown for longer than three seconds, grins. “Why couldn’t we have had this Archer all along? You are becoming a decent part-time roommate with our coffee and food.”
I shrug and kiss Georgia’s forehead. “It just took time … and the right person.”
Grace smiles. “I guess so.”
We say good-bye to Grace. I walk Georgia to her car, kiss her with a little tongue, and go home to crash for half the day.
“Will this be weird?” Georgia asks, playing with her hands in her lap.
She’s been distant all morning. When I asked her what was wrong, she waved off my question and insisted it was nothing.
Parking in Cohen’s driveway, I glance over at her. “Why would it be weird?”
“We’ve never exactly been nice to each other at one of these.”
I shift the car into park. “We were nice on Taco Tuesday. At the funeral.”
“Nice to each other while people know that we’re”—she pauses, as if searching for the appropriate word—“dating.”
I frown. “Do you want us to be mean to each other?” My voice turns playful, and I hope it perks up her mood. “Role-play?”
She side-eyes me. “You know what I mean.”
“It’d make for some hot sex later.”
Her frown tips up into a smirk. “How about we ditch the party and go have sex?”
It’s my turn to frown. “You want to bail on your brother’s birthday?”
This isn’t like Georgia. Unless she’s had work or class, she’s never missed a party or barbecue at Cohen’s house—definitely not on his birthday.
“No.” She shakes her head as if she’s trying to rid it of her thoughts.
“Baby,” I say, my chest tightening, “what’s wrong?”
She’s quiet, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Talk to me.”
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“Scared of what?”
She avoids eye contact and plays with her hoop earring. “We’ve been in our own little world, and with the exception of Grace, we haven’t shown our friends how serious we are. If it doesn’t work out between us, I’ll be humiliated.”
“Humiliated? Humiliated over what?” Uneasiness stirs in my stomach.
“The guys, they don’t know how deep my feelings for you are. If something happens to us, then it’ll be embarrassing. If they think it’s casual for us, then it might not be—”
I wince, her words a smack in the face. “Whoa, you think we’re casual?”
A flush fills her cheeks. “I don’t know what we are.”
“You shitting me?” Disbelief cracks through me.
“I’m worried I’m a …” She trails off.
“A what?”
“A distraction,” she blurts out. “I’m worried I’m a distraction … from everything happening in your life.”
“A distraction?” I repeat slowly. “You’re scared that I’ll use you and then discard you after my life isn’t shit?”
“A little, yes.” She shakes her head and clutches the door handle. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”
“Whoa, you can’t throw that out there and then say forget it.” I stop her, my head pounding. “Do you really think that I’m not all in with us?”
“I know how you are when you’re in pain,” she says softly. “You’ve used me before.”
“You’ve used me before.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and force down a sick feeling. “I’ve introduced you as my girlfriend. I’ve confided in you in ways I never have with anyone. I brought you to spread my father’s ashes with my family. You think that’s casual?”
“That’s why I said, forget it,” she grinds out.
She turns to open the door again, but I speak before she does, “Georgia, look at me.”
There’s a delay before she does, and my head pounds harder at the uncertainty on her face.
I caress my thumb over her cheek, my stomach twisting at the tears simmering in her eyes, and level my voice. “I’m all in. Every piece of me is in this with you. You’re not a distraction. You’re the woman I’ve wanted for years—years—and I’m finally done distracting myself with other shit to avoid my feelings for you.”
She relaxes into my touch, my confession slightly putting her at ease. Three words are at the tip of my tongue. Just as they’re about to slip from my lips, Georgia jumps when someone pounds on her door.
“Come on, kids,” Finn says as he passes us on his way to Cohen’s backyard.
I’m kicking his ass.
She wipes her eyes. “What better way for our first public appearance than for me to have red eyes?”
“Georgia,” I rasp, “I swear on everything, I will never embarrass you.”
She sniffles.
“Come here, baby.” I wipe tears off her cheeks and nudge my nose along hers before kissing her. “This is not casual for me. You will never be casual with me. I’m nine thousand percent in this with you.”
“Okay.” She nods. “I just …”
“I don’t blame you for doubting me.”
Our lips brush again, longer this time, and I run my tongue along the seam of her lips. She opens her mouth, curling her tongue into mine, and I pull back.
“I don’t know if our first public appearance should involve me dragging you onto my lap and fucking you right before we see everyone.”
She traces my lips with her tongue. “That would be a great way to start it out.”
I place a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s get going.”
She turns to grab Cohen’s gift bag from the back seat, and I interlace our hands as we walk into the backyard. It’s a Monday night—the only day everyone in the gang could get off work. It’s hard for us to get together on the weekends since at least one of us needs to be at the bar when it’s busy.
To me, it doesn’t seem weird. Our friends have been around us together. Hell, Grace has heard us fuck and seen us playing house—eating, watching movies, snuggling on the couch.
Far from goddamn casual.
“Well, well, if it’s not the happy couple,” Lola says when we come into view. She jumps up from her chair and hugs Georgia. “I feel like I need to move in with you and Grace to see you.” Her eyes shoot to me. “Or be Archer.”
I shrug, holding back a shit-eating grin as Georgia’s shoulders relax.
“Girl time,” Georgia says.
“You’re going to be talking about me, aren’t you?”
“Definitely not,” she says.
I kiss her cheek while she sits with the girls, and I head over to the guys standing around the grill, drinking beers. We bro-hug each other, and no one acts any differently about Georgia and me. It’s as if it’s natural, and we’ve been walking around holding hands for years. I’m sure there’s been some talk when we’re not around, though.
“Maliki, my man!” Cohen calls out.
I turn around to find Maliki; his fiancée, Sierra; and his daughter, Mia, along with a blonde walking in our direction. As soon as Mia sees Noah and Jamie playing on the swing set, she darts toward them, yelling Noah’s name. I’d bet my money those two will date or some shit by the time they hit high school.
“Who’s Blondie?” Finn asks.
“Sierra’s sister,” Silas answers.
“She’s cute,” Finn comments.
She’s young and on the skinny side, and she reminds me of Sierra—pretty, rich, and trouble. Maliki was like me—a loner, not giving two shits or looking for a relationship. Enter Sierra, who kept sneaking into his bar when she was underage. And somehow, they’re now engaged. I don’t know the full story since I mind my own business.
When he said it took the right one, I snorted.
Now, I get it.
“She’s the one we’re hiring?” I ask Cohen.
“Hiring where?” Silas asks.
“At the bar,” Cohen replies.
“Twisted Fox?” Finn questions.
Cohen nods.
“Why not work at Down Home?” Finn continues.
I have a feeling that will be a frequent question.
“She got into some trouble. Maliki didn’t tell me the entire story because he hardly says shit,” Cohen replies. “If you want in on any gossip, Sierra is the one you go to.”
Georgia, Grace, and Lola trade questioning looks. They’re cautious, and they’ve banned us from bringing random women to the barbecues after one of Finn’s flings showed her ass. I didn’t give two fucks about the ban since I didn’t have random flings I dragged around my friends. When Sierra came with Maliki the first time, they were accepting of her. It could’ve also been because none of them wanted Maliki.
Since Grace loves Finn.
And Lola and Silas have some weird type of relationship.
Thirty minutes later, we’re finishing dinner, and Georgia declares it is cake time before rushing inside. I don’t know how she always ends up being the cake-getter.
Deciding we need some alone time, I jog across the yard and wrap my arms around her, dragging her into my side before raining kisses down her cheek and neck.
She laughs, pushing me away, before freezing. “Holy shit, is that my mom?”
39
Georgia
What the hell is happening?
My jaw drops as my mom slowly walks through Cohen’s backyard, gift bag in tow. My attention zips to Cohen, as I’m nervous for his reaction. I didn’t invite her since it’s his birthday, and when it’s your birthday, you get to make the guest list.
Did Jamie?
Cohen drops a kiss to Jamie’s shoulder, shoves his phone into his pocket, and waves to my mom. His strides are long as he meets her in the middle of the yard. They smile at each other—hers gentle, his inviting.
“Oh, wow,” I mutter when he hugs her tightly.
“You want me to grab the cake while you …” Archer asks, jerking his head toward the scene I’m focused on.
I nod. “Good idea.”
“On it.”
I wait, keeping my distance, while Cohen and my mom make small talk. I’ve been begging Cohen to talk to her, and my heart flutters that he finally is, that he’s opened up the forgiveness pocket of his heart. The man who doesn’t believe in second chances is giving her one.
Taking her hand, he leads her to Jamie and Noah, and when they exchange hugs, my eyes water.
“Got the cake,” Archer says, stopping next to me. “Who the hell chose this?”
“Noah.” I laugh as I take a look at the Scooby-Doo cake that says, Happy Birthday, Dad! “He cons Jamie into letting him make all the decisions.”
Archer carries the cake as we approach them.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, masking the shock on my face and hugging her.
“Hi, baby.” She squeezes me tight.
“Cake is here,” Archer says before placing it on the table. He slides his arm around my waist and kisses my cheek.
My mom raises a brow.
“Mom,” I say, “this is Archer.”
“Hi there,” she says skeptically and waves, recognizing his name from the few times I’ve confided in her.
Her motherly instincts have started kicking in as our relationship grows.
As though he can read her mind, Archer steps forward, and says, “I stopped fucking up.”
My mom smiles. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Everyone digs into the cake, and when I see Cohen is alone, I pounce.
“You invited Mom?” I ask.
He nods.
“Wow, what am I missing? Are we in an alternate universe?”
“It was time I got my head out of my ass.” He runs his hand through his thick brown hair. “Archer’s dad’s death didn’t only help open his eyes; it did mine too. It was time I quit holding a grudge against her. I’m having a little girl, and I’d love for her to have two grandmothers. She’s been in the picture with you for a while now, and she hasn’t given you any reason to doubt her.”
I grin. “I’m happy you and Mom are reconnecting.”
He jerks his head toward Archer, who’s talking with Maliki. “After all this time, I kept telling myself that you two just hated each other.”
“Were we that good at acting?”
He shakes his head. “I think I was good at turning a blind eye to it because I didn’t want it to start drama, but then I sat back and thought, you two dating isn’t shit compared to the situation I’m in.”
I laugh. “True dat, big brother. Your baby momma’s sister is over there, preggo with your next baby.”
“Okay, don’t make it sound so Jerry Springer-ish.”
“Why? It’s so much fun.”
“Man, you’re a pain in my ass,” he says, laughing while hugging me.
I take a look around the yard, noticing everyone and everything that’s happened.
Everyone around me is taking risks.
And I love it.
“I’m sorry,” I say, stretching myself out on Archer’s bed, “for what I said about us being casual.”
I was nervous.
Scared.
Our relationship had turned serious so fast.
No dating. No foreplay. Just diving straight into each other.
In the car, Archer flinched when I said distraction, as if the word was a slap to his face. I was happy with him, on top of the world, but scared. Archer’s way of handling stress is by running, drinking, and fucking. I can’t be blamed for worrying that he was using me to get through his issues and then would discard me later.
He stands at the foot of his bed—in a pair of gym shorts, shirtless, showing off his buff chest.
His face softens, and he gently smiles. “Baby, don’t be sorry for expressing that. My job is to change your mind from feeling that way.”
“I mean, I was in a mood—”
“And I’m in the mood to prove to you that this isn’t casual.”
Leaning over the bed, he grips my ankles in his rough hands, and I shriek when he tugs me down the sheets. My ass is half off the bed, and before I catch another breath, my panties are ripped down my legs. Parting my thighs, he drops to his knees and stares at my bare pussy, his attention riveted.
I gulp, never feeling so on display before.
“Uh … everything okay down there?” I ask before inching my legs closed.
Call me awkward for never having my vagina on display like the Mona Lisa.
He stops me. “I’m admiring you.”
“Can you, uh … stop admiring and start …”
He peeks up at me, a hungry look on his face. “And what, baby?”
I wave my hands in the air in a hurry up gesture.
He chuckles, and anticipation flickers through me when he rains kisses down my thighs and legs and then back up.
My heart pulsates, my body tingling with my need for him.
All of him.
Every damn inch of this guy—mentally, physically, emotionally.
I want him to be my forever.
I want to be his everything.
