him on an insane level wanted to know, in explicit terms, how he planned to put a claim on her. How he would lead everyone to believe they were regularly sweating up the sheets. It was curiosity on Georgie’s part, but his blood couldn’t help heating at the perceived challenge. Couldn’t help heating at all of her. The inquisitive eyes and secret smile that, dammit, really made him feel like they were on a team. Her tits. God, yes, her tits. The glow of the streetlamps on either side of the entrance made them look soft and touchable. It didn’t help knowing she’d never had her nipples sucked before him and had gasped and squirmed the first time it happened. Maybe he couldn’t be the one to suck them the next time, but letting everyone think he had would have to suffice.
“Come here.”
This time she definitely shivered in reaction to his change in tone. She stepped forward, fingering the end of her braid, and Travis stayed right where he was, head tilted, waiting until a sliver of paper couldn’t fit between their bodies. Her heat rolled into his belly and journeyed lower, waking up hunger he needed to be ashamed about, but couldn’t seem to stop when they were face-to-face. His arm moved on its own, snaking around the small of her back and tugging her tight against his body. “You want to know how I’m going to let everyone know you’re mine, huh?”
Georgie pushed against his chest and backed up. “No.”
Denial crammed his belly full. “No?”
She gave him a meaningful look. “Did you already forget this position you want is at a family-friendly network?” Her eyelids fluttered. “You shouldn’t be looking at me like that.”
Fuck. How did he continue to lose his common sense around this girl? Why couldn’t he look at Georgie and see all the logical reasons that being in a physical relationship with her would be bad?
Not to mention, she was right. Being caught making out with yet another woman on camera was a good way to get his name crossed off the short list.
Yet another woman.
He didn’t want to admit to himself that Georgie felt like anything but.
Travis gave a tight nod and led her into the Waterfront, camera flashes going off in their wake. Apart from the music pumping over the loudspeaker in the bar area, the room slowly turned dead silent. No one spoke or moved as Travis guided Georgie to the closest open stools. He could feel the eyes on them—knew she must, too—but she didn’t take her attention off him once. It set the organ in his chest to pounding, and by the time he boosted her sideways onto the stool, the conversation they’d been having completely eluded him. “Uh.” He swallowed. “What do you drink?”
“I’m rusty on ordering drinks. Most of the parties I’m invited to only serve Capri Suns.” She licked her lips in slow motion. At least that’s how it happened in his head. “My go-to in college was vodka and lemonade.”
“Cute.”
“Don’t call me cute in my gladiator sandals.” She gave him a solemn look. “I’m battling a lion later tonight—you should come.”
Warmth invaded his chest. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”
He tore his eyes away from her pleased smile and gave their order to the bartender. That’s when Georgie finally seemed to notice that every eye in the place was trained on them. She sucked in a breath and he stepped closer on reflex, curving a palm to her shoulder. “You’re really good at this,” she whispered.
“What?” He looked down to find himself crowding her, his fingers playing with the tip of her braid. “Oh. Yeah, lots of practice,” he lied smoothly, abundantly aware he’d never been this affectionate in his life. Cursing himself for the way her eyes dimmed in response, Travis rushed to make it better. “Tell me more about your club.” The bartender set down their drinks and Travis handed Georgie hers. “The Just Us League. Do you have a motto yet?”
“All for one. And one for Paul. Paul is the stripper we hire for meetings.”
Travis broke off halfway through a chuckle. “That’s a joke, right?”
“Of course. A stripper named Paul would never get hired. He’d have to call himself Daddy Manroot or something.” She broke off with a laugh. “Your face right now.”
“It’s the face of anyone who hears the term ‘Daddy Manroot.’”
“Sorry.” She smiled around her straw as she took her first sip. “I really shouldn’t be telling you top secret club information.