Chapter 243: I Want It (1)
Georgia returned to the home office, water still clinging to her skin, a towel wrapped tightly around her body. Another hung from her hand as she rubbed it through her damp hair, droplets tracing down her collarbone.
Nick sat at his desk, jaw tight, eyes glued to the glow of his laptop screen. His fingers flew across the keys, opening unread emails and Evelyn’s meticulous list of tasks.
He was so locked into catching up with work that he didn’t notice Georgia quietly lock the door or the soft pad of her bare feet as she crossed the room toward him.
It wasn’t until her warm hands pressed against his tense shoulders, kneading firmly into the knots at his neck, that he startled slightly.
"You go ahead and sleep first," he said without turning his head, his voice rough but distracted. "I just need to catch up. There’s too much I missed today."
"Hmm..." Georgia’s hum was soft, teasing. "Looks like Evelyn’s been doing a good job. Your secretary must be grateful you hired her—less work for him to drown in, with Evelyn’s addition to your team." She leaned down, lips brushing the edge of his cheek, just beside his ear.
Nick’s jaw twitched, though his gaze never left the screen. "She’s been a great help. Impressive, really, considering it’s only her first day."
Georgia’s lips slid lower, grazing the curve of his neck. He flinched—not from her touch, but at the droplets from her wet hair spattering his lap.
"You’re hair is dripping," he muttered, opening for another email. "There’s a spare hair dryer in the bottom drawer. My mom’s old one. Vicky replaced it, so the newer one’s in the guestroom."
Georgia straightened, amused at his stubborn focus. "Alright," she murmured, crouching gracefully to tug the drawer open. The towel slipped slightly against her skin as she rummaged through. "Where can I plug it in?"
"There’s one under the desk. Another behind me." He shifted a fraction in his chair, still typing, giving her just enough room.
"Under the desk it is..." she whispered.
Georgia ducked lower, sliding past him, her damp skin brushing close as she reached beneath the desk.
Nick kept his eyes trained on the screen, but his pulse betrayed him, thundering louder with every second she lingered in his space.
After plugging in the hair dryer, Georgia rose with a plan that left Nick nowhere to hide.
"Whoa—" Nick’s voice cracked when her hand brushed across his lap, then his groin.
Georgia widened her eyes, feigning innocence. "Oopsie... didn’t see where I was touching. Just trying to get up." Her words dripped with fake apology as she straightened slowly, every movement calculated.
It worked. Nick’s typing paused. His gaze flicked to her, sharp and unreadable—but just as quickly, he let her pass and dropped his eyes back to the laptop.
’Damn, this man is impossible,’ Georgia thought, heat sparking in her chest. Then a wicked idea bloomed. Her knuckles tapped the heavy desk. ’Solid wood. Perfect.’
With a sly smirk, she pushed aside a neat stack of documents and perched on the edge of his desk, one leg crossing over the other. She flicked the hair dryer on, her damp hair whipping around her face as if she owned the space.
Nick glanced sideways, and the sight made his throat tighten. Her towel barely clung to her curves, her skin glowing under the warm light. He swallowed hard, hoping she didn’t notice.
"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarser than he intended, betraying the pull she had on him. Then cleared his throat.
"Can’t you see?" she replied, feigning nonchalance as she blew warm air through her hair. "I’m drying my hair."
"On my desk?" Nick’s fingers resumed typing, but the speed of his keystrokes betrayed his nerves.
"Well, yeah." She tilted her head, mock casual. "You moved the chairs to make room for the mattress. Dragging one back in here would’ve been such a hassle. The desk works just fine."
Nick exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. "While wearing only a towel?"
"Of course. Unless you want me to soak my clothes and wake up with a cold tomorrow." Her tone was wickedly reasonable, every word daring him to look up.
"Fine..." Nick muttered, hammering at his keyboard like his life depended on it. But then, almost imperceptibly, he shifted in his position on the chair. The strain was too obvious—his body betraying what his discipline tried so hard to control.
Georgia caught it instantly. Her eyes flicked down, a slow smile tugging at her lips as she noticed the telltale bulge pressing against his pants. One brow arched, her smirk unmistakable.
Georgia stayed quiet until her hair fell dry, warm, and silky down her back. Nick was still glued to his laptop, fingers tapping fast, as if the world outside his screen didn’t exist.
With a sly glint in her eyes, she reached for the bag he’d stashed neatly on the shelf while she was in the shower. From it, she pulled out a small bottle of lotion, something she always carried. She poured a generous amount into her palm, the faint scent drifting through the room, then lifted one leg and propped it boldly on the armrest of his chair.
Nick exhaled sharply, the sound rough and betraying. Georgia smirked—he was still staring at the screen, but she knew he felt every second of it.
She massaged the lotion into her skin, slow and teasing, then switched legs. But as she moved, Nick shifted his chair, and instead of the armrest, her leg landed across his knee.
"Oh... sorry," she murmured, feigning surprise. "Was supposed to set it on the armrest."
Without a word, Nick took the lotion from her hand. "I’ll help," he muttered, voice low, steady but tight. "So you can finally sleep."
"Alright," she breathed, watching him rub the lotion into her calf, then slide upward. His hands hesitated near her thigh, but before he could retreat, Georgia widened her legs apart.
"So you can spread it evenly," she teased.
Nick froze, his breath quickening. Georgia noticed—oh, yes, she noticed. She pressed further, mischievous fire sparking in her eyes.
Her foot shifted, nestling against the space between his legs, pressing exactly where he couldn’t ignore her. "Might as well reach the top part," she whispered, tugging the towel with one finger until it slipped off her body and pooled shamelessly across the desk. "Oops..."
Nick’s head snapped up. His gaze locked on her, blazing with restrained desire. "You need rest," he said hoarsely, fighting for control. "I won’t do anything tonight that could compromise your health. You’ve been under too much stress today."
Georgia smirked, the lioness circling its prey. She flexed her toes, rubbing against the hardened bulge beneath his pants, and watched him twitch in his seat.
"But you’re already hard," she purred. "And they say sex is the best stress reliever. Don’t you agree?"
Then she moved—fluid, decisive. Rising from the desk, she stepped between his spread legs, caging herself in. Taking his wrists, she guided both his hands firmly to her breasts, her stare burning into his.
"Besides..." she whispered, lips hovering just above his. "I want it."