Georgie closed her mouth tight around the toothbrush, trying to keep the scrubbing noise from waking him up. Damn, the man could sleep. He was facedown, legs and arms sprawled in four directions, his taut, naked ass a sight for sore eyes among the sheets.
This view. She could charge admission.
There was a fuzzy koala doing somersaults in her stomach, tickling her ribs and pressing down on her unmentionable parts. Although Travis had surely made mention of them last night on the couch. So many times. Each time better than the last. Who knew she was such a sucker for a filthy mouth?
Who knew you were such a sucker, period?
She was beginning to feel like she’d set herself up for one epic fall. What if she succeeded in making him believe he was worthy of a healthy relationship . . . and he went and found a different one? With someone else who wanted a future filled with fewer rug rats? After all, he had been the one to insist their fake-dating plan remain in motion even while they slept together. After being with her like this, could he really foresee ending it so easily?
What would she do then?
Unable to shake the encroaching gloom, Georgie dipped back into the bathroom to rinse out her mouth, stowing her toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. She’d already laid out a packaged spare on the sink for Travis when he finally woke up. Hopefully that wouldn’t freak him out, having his own toothbrush. Maybe she should put it away and suggest he brush with his finger. That’s what a cool, casual chick would do, right? Not present her Costco contraband after night one.
There was a low groan from the bedroom, followed by the creaking of bedsprings. Georgie’s sex clenched, causing a twinge of minor soreness. She’d expected her first time to be more painful—especially after seeing Travis’s erect penis. But she’d been so worked up and . . . damp . . . there had only been urgency. To be pushed down and filled. To please. To get pleasure herself. Mission accomplished.
Georgie turned to fix her ponytail in the mirror and found her face bright red. She fanned her cheeks, commanding herself not to be awkward. So he spent the night. Didn’t change anything.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Georgie?”
Her nipples turned to points at Travis’s gruff, post-sleep rasp. “Yeah?”
Travis’s pitch dropped. “You mind getting back in bed?”
Oh wow. She’d been worried he’d wake up like a cornered male, realizing he’d spent the night. Turned out, she’d been way off. With a calming breath, she toed open the bathroom door, coming face-to-face with a fully nude male marvel. “Good morning.” Nerves jangling in her limbs, she busied her fingers stuffing a stray hair into her ponytail. “I would ask how it’s hanging, but I can see for myself.”
Completely unconcerned about the erection jostling around between them, he backed her into the bathroom. “Why are you dressed?”
As she reached the sink, she remembered the packaged toothbrush and oh-so-casually shoved it into the wastebasket. “I promised myself I would start training for the Tough Mudder today. I don’t want to disgrace the family name.”
Without missing a beat, Travis leaned past her and took the toothbrush out of the trash. He popped it open, sliding the red object into his hands, tossing it from one to the other. “I’ve got sneakers in my truck. Give me a few minutes. I’ll come with you.”
Travis applied toothpaste to the brush, ran it under the water, and stuck it in his mouth. “You’re doing that thing again where you don’t touch me. Which is funnier than usual seeing as how we spent the whole night plastered together.”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his teeth and spat. Like a damn baseball player. “Is that why you’re acting weird? Because I forgot to leave?”
“Am I acting weird?”
He gave her a look of pure male exasperation. “You’ve got until I finish brushing my teeth to stop freaking out on me. Otherwise . . .” Dramatic pause. “We’re going down to tickle town.”
A tingle of alarm ran down her spine. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.” Brush, brush. “Bottoms of the feet, right?”
“We’re adults now.” Trying to be inconspicuous, she sidestepped toward the bathroom door. “You can’t use a weakness against me you learned when I was a child. That’s unethical.”
He rinsed and spit, nestling his toothbrush alongside hers in the cabinet. Thunk-thunk-thunk went her heart, waiting for him to respond. “I gave my best friend’s sister her first time on the couch last night. Didn’t go easy on her, either.” His attention dropped to the apex of her thighs, his jaw flexing. “Trust me, I didn’t think of ethics once.”
“Good,” she said in a shaky whisper. “I’m more than the youngest Castle sibling.”
“You’re telling me.”
Oh God. Her knees wanted to collapse. “All of this is irrelevant, because I’m not freaking out anymore. No need for tickling.”
He sauntered toward her like a rangy-hipped cowboy. With a chub. “Why did you throw the toothbrush away?”
Her laughter was hysterical. “I think the court will agree that was an accident.”
Travis stopped and crossed his arms. His big, buff arms with shadowed cuts and mouthwatering valleys. Boy, this bathroom had seriously great lighting. “You still haven’t touched me. I’m starting to get annoyed.”
“You can be aroused and annoyed at the same time?” She shifted on the balls of her feet, preparing to run. “There’s one for the résumé, right?”
Her words were still hanging in the air when Travis lunged and threw her over his shoulder. Disoriented, she somehow managed to deduce where they were going—the bed—and she yelped on the way down, landing on her back. “Don’t do it!”
“You had your chance.” Travis shook his head, planting a hand on her chest and easily holding her down while he pried off a running shoe. “I didn’t want to visit tickle town, but you left me no choice.”
“Stop calling it that.” Georgie half laughed, half squealed, attempting and failing to twist onto her belly. “Oh my God. A naked man is tickling me by force. I never want to hear clowns are scary again.”
She peeked up to find his fingers poised above the arch of her right foot. “This hurts me more than it hurts you.”
The gorgeous jerk had the nerve to wink. “There’s that word I love so much again.”
Her skin was on high alert, waiting for the dreaded sensation. “The anticipation is the worst part,” she wailed. “Just do it or don’t.”
“There’s only one escape.”
Hope caused her to jackknife, but Travis pushed her back down. “What is it?”
“I want a proper good morning from you, and I’m not even sure what one looks like. Just know I wanted you lying there when I opened my eyes.” His mouth was in a smirk, but his eyes were deadly serious. Dark. Her thighs turned watery in response. “I want your hands all over me. Your mouth on mine. And next time you get out of bed without giving me both, I’m going to find you, pull your pants down, and backhand that little tush you had tucked up in my lap all night. We clear?”
Georgie’s pulse thundered in her ears, her intimate muscles searching for their counterpart, wanting to clamp down. Wanting friction. “Yes.”
Travis watched her from under hooded lids for another second, then freed her foot. He sunk back on the bed in a kneeling position and waited while Georgie scrambled up. Intuition told her a single hesitation would earn her a one-way ticket onto her back again, so she didn’t wait. She climbed him. She locked her thighs around Travis’s waist and ran her palms up his shoulders, stopping when they were framing his face. And they fell into a groaning kiss, his hard flesh lifting and prodding the seam of her yoga pants. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, gripping her waist on each side, calling attention to their size difference.
Mint and male assaulted her senses, sending a rush of moisture between her legs. She scooted closer on Travis’s lap and he broke the kiss to watch her—intently—as she writhed on his erection. As she moved, he gripped the nape of her neck and looked down, watching her. Watching their lower bodies slide and grind together.
“I say we skip the run,” she gasped, as Travis captured her earlobe with his teeth.
“We’re going.” He slid his hand down to her ass and squeezed, thrusting his hips up into her at the same time. “Now you’ve got an incentive.”
Denial seeped in. “But—”
Travis cut her off with a drugging kiss, but it was mixed with something else. Yes, there was lust, but she knew this man. And she was starting to think she’d hurt his feelings. Or made him worry. “I’m not used to waking up with other people, either, Georgie.”
He searched her eyes. “If it’s too much, I won’t do it next time.”
In that moment, she couldn’t think of anything but banishing the insecurities she’d caused. “Don’t tell my siblings or I’ll kill you, but . . . I always check under my bed for serial killers before I turn out the light and go to sleep. It didn’t even occur to me to check for the ghost of Ted Bundy last night.” She tilted her head. “I didn’t worry about a thing with you snoring in my face.”