Wild
Page 46We shook hands. “Hi, I’m Georgia.”
They were an attractive couple. Maybe a few years older than me. Grad students probably.
“Are you new?” Opal asked. “We haven’t seen you before.”
“I’ve been once. Briefly.”
“Ah.” Lance nodded. “Decided to try it again then. Well, the summer meetings are the best. Less intimidating for a newcomer, right Opal?”
She nodded, her dark corkscrew curls bouncing around her shoulders. “Yes, far more intimate. It’s more conducive to making an actual connection.” I almost smiled. She made it sound like online dating. This was a bit of a stretch from that. “The rest of the time, it’s just one giant meat market.”
“It was a little overwhelming the last time,” I agreed.
“Are you interested in going upstairs with us, Georgia?” Lance asked, his gaze cutting into mine directly. His hand lightly touched my arm. He was all politeness, but what he was asking was clear. Would I join them? In a bedroom?! Just the three of us.
I swallowed and stammered. “I-I appreciate the offer, but no, thank you.”
Opal nodded. “Interested in something else, huh? Maybe we can help you find it.”
I must have looked panicked at their invitation for her to take pity on me and make such an offer. I was looking for something else, I realized. Someone else. Someone else was the reason I had come here. I had been pretending otherwise.
My gaze locked on him. He wasn’t dressed up like everyone else. He was wearing jeans and a cotton T-shirt that looked soft and touch-worthy, falling flat against the cut of his pecs and abdomen. My palms tingled, ready to feel all the hard valleys and angles of his body.
“Ahh.” Opal nodded, following my gaze. “You’re here for Logan.”
I shook my head in denial, even though I kept my gaze trained on Logan. I was locked on him like he was some kind of homing device.
Opal waved him over. “Logan!”
“Oh, no . . . Don’t!” My face burned as his gaze lifted and found me. He took me in with a sweep of blistering blue, and I suddenly felt self-conscious standing there in my tight dress. Like a little girl playing dress-up.
He and Rachel strolled toward us. I risked a glance at Rachel, and her eyes flashed at me with some of the aversion that I recognized from our last conversation at the ballpark.
“Fancy seeing you here, Georgia,” Rachel said, looking back and forth between Logan and me. Clearly, she was waiting to see his reaction. So was I.
I took a slow sip of my wine.
Lance and Opal looked from Logan to me and then to each other. The tension was palpable, thick and choking. Lance shifted on his feet.
Opal downed her glass of wine. “I’m going to get a refill.”
Finally, he spoke: “What are you doing here?”
“Annie invited me.”
“And this seemed like a good idea?” He motioned to the room.
I shrugged. “Why not? You’re here.” My gaze flicked to Rachel. “She’s here. Why can’t I be here?”
Rachel turned her gaze to Logan, looking very interested in his answer.
“You’re not us,” he replied flatly.
This answer seemed to satisfy her. She turned an almost smug smile on me. If he wanted to widen the gap even further between us and firmly stick me in a box outside of the one he occupied with Rachel, he had just succeeded. A bitter ache filled my chest. I guess I deserved that. I had rejected him in front of Pepper and Reece. I couldn’t expect open arms from him tonight.
A muscle feathered along his jaw and he dug the blade deeper into my heart, saying, “This is my kind of place. Not yours. You’ve made it clear how different you and I are.” He angled his head as if searching his memory. “We’re not right . . . I think that’s what you said.” His gaze sharpened on me, his eyes glacier blue. “We can ask Reece if you don’t remember.”
I had said that. And now I was here at a kink club. Like that was right. What a hypocrite I was. That must be what he thought looking at me now. I couldn’t muster the truth though. Especially with Rachel watching. I couldn’t tell him I changed my mind. I couldn’t just admit that I was here because of him. For him. That I couldn’t leave him alone.
I tossed my head back and downed the rest of my wine, hating how my hand trembled. I wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
I turned my back on them and marched toward the bar, my spine ramrod-straight. A guy was there pouring wine. He grinned as I approached. “What can I get the pretty lady in blue? A refill? I can also make you a cocktail, if you’d like that.”
I opened my mouth but I didn’t have time to respond. Logan came up beside me. He plucked the glass from my fingers and set it down sharply. Seizing my hand, he turned and started walking me from the room, his footsteps biting hard into the floor.
His fingers laced with mine, and my breath hitched at his strong palm flush against my own. I could feel his pulse bleeding into me from this single contact.
My strides weren’t as long as his—largely due to my too-tight dress—and I had to hurry to keep pace. A strong sense of déjà vu washed over me. It was like the last time he marched me out of a kink club. Except this time every nerve ending in my body sparked and hummed with the knowledge of him. His hands, his mouth, his body moving over mine. Against me. In me.
I knew what it was like between us. There was no wondering about it. There was only longing that curled in the pit of my belly. A yearning anticipation that went bone-deep and quickened my breathing.
We cleared the threshold and he pulled me down the wide hall with all the expensive-looking art. I tugged my hand free from his and stopped, rubbing it against my thigh.
Our gazes clashed.
“You’re here because of me,” he accused. “Just fucking admit it. Go ahead. Reece and Pepper aren’t here so there won’t be any embarrassment.”
That stung. Even if it was the truth. “There goes that arrogance again.”