I run my fingertips over the dripping gems around Georgina’s neck. And then caress her tits and pinch her hard nipples, and suck on her breasts and neck and gorgeous bottom lip, again and again. I grip her hair and run my teeth along her jawline, wanting to physically consume her. To ingest her into my body and keep her there, beholden to me, and only me. I want to fuse with her, in every way possible. I want to capture this beautiful butterfly in my net and never, ever let her go. My nerve endings on fire, my body lit up, I gaze up at the mirror above us and tell her, in graphic detail, what she looks like as she fucks me. I tell her about the way her ass is moving as she rides me. I tell her she’s my queen.
Finally, Georgie screams my name and comes, hard, and when I feel her muscles clenching and rippling with her orgasm, it’s sheer bliss for me. A direct line to a God I’ve never believed in, until now. I give myself permission to let go. And not just physically. To let go of fear. I’m hers now. Committed to giving her all of me now, no matter what.
When our bodies slacken, Georgina and I flop onto the bed, onto our backs, and stare at our smiles—and our heaving, panting, naked bodies—in the overhead mirror.
Wracked with euphoria, I grab Georgina’s hand. “Please tell me you’re home now.”
She smiles seductively. “Are you inviting me to stay here, for however long?”
“No, I’m begging you. No limitations or expiration date. As in, I want you to go down to the DMV, right after we get back from New York, and change the address on your driver’s license.”
She opens her mouth and eyes as wide as they’ll go.
“Yep,” I say, chuckling at her shocked expression. “This is DMV-serious, baby.”
Georgina bites her lip. “You’re serious? Because I’m not willing to go back down to the DMV again any time soon. It’s hell down there.”
I sit up and look down at her. “Seriously, Georgie. I’m in it for the long haul with you. I’m sure. Please, tell me you’re sure, too. It’s you and me, from now on.”
She nods. “I’m sure.”
I lean down and kiss her. But then pull away excitedly and grab my phone off the nightstand with a loud hoot.
“What?”
“I’m telling Owen to get your bike back here ASAP. I want the Ginger Rogers of Spin to start kicking my ass again, as soon as possible.”
Georgina sighs like a Disney princess. “I’m so happy.”
“I’m also telling Owen to add you to my flight tomorrow.”
“Don’t do that. I mean, I’d love to travel with you. But I’ve already got a flight booked. No sense wasting money.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re coming with me. We’re flying first class.”
“Oooh, I’ve never flown first class!” She giggles. “Okay, I’m coming with you.”
We both laugh.
As I get settled onto my back again, she turns onto her side and drags a fingertip down the center groove of my abs. “So... I hate to say this and ruin the afterglow... but I think, before we get too swept away on endorphins, we should talk.”
My stomach clenches with dread. Shit. Here we go. Isabel’s secrets weren’t mine to reveal. But what choice did I have but to send that video? If I’m going to love Georgina, all the way, then I’ve got to trust her to choose me, and our love, over the chance to use the information on that video to try to land her dream job. Or, worse, to try to destroy Isabel out of sheer spite. I know Georgie didn’t fully understand anything she heard on that video, but she heard enough to realize Isabel has a secret. And that some guy named Troy blackmailed her because of it. “Yeah, you’re right,” I say. “We definitely need to talk.”
Georgina looks stressed. “I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, Reed. Not anymore. No more lies—even if it’s only through omission. It’s time to come clean about everything.”
“Yeah, I agree,” I say, my words overlapping with Georgina’s, as she says, “I need to talk to you about Troy.”
Wow. She’s jumping right in. Shit. I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask me about him. In fact, I’m sure you’ve got a whole bunch of questions about the confusing stuff you heard on that video. But before I explain who ‘Troy’ is, I need to emphasize that—”
“Oh, no,” Georgina says. She lays a palm on my chest, pausing me. “When I said it’s time to come clean about Troy, I meant me. I need to come clean about Troy.”
I blink several times, utterly confused. Did I hear that right?
Georgina leans onto her elbow and props her head with her fist. “What you and Isabel talked about wasn’t confusing to me at all. I already know all about Troy Eklund.”
“Uh.” I blink again, my synapses exploding. “What, exactly, do you know?”
“Everything. The fact that he slept with Isabel. And figured out Isabel’s secret—which I also know about, by the way. I know he blackmailed Isabel. Well, technically, he blackmailed you, and you gallantly paid him off in exchange for him signing a confidential settlement of his lawsuit.” She shrugs. “I know everything, Reed.”
My brain feels like it’s melting. “How...?” But I’m too shocked to complete the sentence.
Georgina continues, “Normally, I wouldn’t have said anything. I’d have pretended to be clueless, so you wouldn’t fully realize the true nature of the demon you’ve fallen in love with. But if we’re truly going to make this relationship work, if I’m really going to brave the DMV for you—then I feel like I should come clean to you about how clever and diabolical and relentless and... brilliant... I truly am.” She winks. “I know you’ve suspected all along I’m Bobby Fischer. But I feel like, before I put your address onto my driver’s license, which is, to me, as serious as a relationship can be, I should come clean and tell you that... no matter how much you’ve been thinking I’m Bobby Fischer? Oh, honey. You have no freakin’ idea.”
Chapter 17
Georgina
I tell Reed everything I know about Troy Eklund. How I read his lawsuit and then tracked him down at Slingers and cleverly pumped him for information without him realizing it. I tell him about Troy’s unmistakable hints and body language, and finally, those two little words—Francesca Laramie—that sent me straight to Google, which then led me to deducing Isabel’s secret, as well as causing me to assume that Reed must have hired Isabel to be his “blind date” on the night of CeeCee’s fiftieth birthday party.
And, last but not least, I tell Reed about my visit to Francesca’s restaurant downtown, although I don’t drop the bomb on Reed, just yet, about my firmly held belief that Howard Devlin is a sexual predator who’s been getting a free pass for decades because he happens to be a wildly successful billionaire movie producer. I’m going to tell Reed about Howard during this conversation, of course. But later. I feel like Reed and I have plenty to talk about, before we get to that.
I take Reed’s hand. “I want you to know Isabel’s secret is safe with me. And so is yours. Assuming I’m right about you hiring Isabel through Francesca.”