CHAPTER 85: GEORGIA’S PLAN (1)

Georgia’s POV

I still can’t believe he did all that for me. The entire scheme was risky, brilliant, and bold. It could destroy Raymond and his father without leaving a single bruise on his own name.

But the question clawing at my chest was if Nick did it to protect me... or to set himself free from me?

If the Davises take the bait, my nightmare ends. The debt disappears. The acquisition after the wedding? Gone. And with it... His promise to marry me.

Was that his goal all along? To cut every tie that bound us?

The thought stung more than I wanted to admit. My throat tightened, my heart squeezing like it knew it was about to be abandoned. I never wanted to marry Nick just to escape the mess I was in. Well, maybe at first, to achieve our common goal, but not anymore.

Somewhere along the way, between the quiet nights and our time together, I started to crave him.

His personality. His mind. His charm. His damn infuriating protectiveness.

And now? I want more. I want all of him.

But I won’t beg. I won’t trap him in a cage he never asked for.

Still, if this is our last day together... then I’ll make damn sure it’s one worth remembering. I won’t let him slip away like a passing dream. I want every second carved into my memory.

My hand moved on its own, caressing the side of his face. His beard was freshly trimmed... sharp lines, rough texture... and gods, it suited him so well. Manly. Dangerous. Unapologetically Nick.

I just can’t take my eyes off him.

I traced his brows, the slope of his lashes, the edge of his jaw. His eyes locked on me, dark and burning, like I was his whole universe—and he was bracing to lose me. I swallowed the ache building in my chest.

My thumb brushed over his lips.

He closed his eyes... and kissed it. Soft. Reverent. Then he wrapped his fingers around my hand and pressed his cheek against my palm.

"What are you doing, Georgia?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"I’m memorizing your face," I murmured.

He stilled. "What for?"

"Because..." My voice wavered, but I held his gaze. "If this is the last day we’re together, I don’t want to forget you. You’ve become a part of me, Nick. Even if it was brief... you changed everything."

There. I said it. Bared my heart, even if it meant he might shatter it.

"Our last day, huh?" he echoed, before exhaling like he’d been holding his breath this whole time. A long, heavy sigh... not of heartbreak.

Of release.

Maybe this entire ordeal was crushing him too.

Maybe... I wasn’t the only one afraid to let go.

"Then keep touching me..." he murmured, an invitation I couldn’t resist.

God help me—so, I did.

I slipped my fingers into his damp hair, giving it a teasing tug, just enough to hear him groan under his breath. My hands traveled down, grazing his neck, sliding over the hard lines of his shoulders, then down his chest—thick with muscle and dusted with hair that made my fingertips tingle.

And then I looked down...

Oh. Shit.

The water had risen just enough to reveal the very top of him—hard, pulsing, his cock breaking the surface like it was desperate for attention.

My hands froze mid-stroke across his chest as heat surged between my thighs.

He didn’t say a word at first. Just stared at me, eyes dark, smug, hungry, and then he smirked. That sinful, cocky smirk that made me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. He glanced down at himself... then back at me.

"Scared?" he asked, tone wrapped with challenge.

I bit my lip, cocking my head playfully. "Why would I be?"

Without breaking eye contact, I reached down with both hands and wrapped my fingers around his thick, throbbing length. His breath hitched—his chest rising with the effort to stay still—as I slowly began to stroke him beneath the water.

His eyes fluttered, just for a second. "You planning to memorize that too?"

I smirked and gave him a slow, deliberate squeeze. "Uh huh."

He let out a low laugh and shook his head, brow furrowing in mock disbelief. "You’re something else, Georgia. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with you."

My lips curved into a sly smile. "Maybe you should start memorizing me, too."

The heck! The words slipped out before I could filter them, raw and bold—so unlike me.

But this is what he does to me. This man. This intense, possessive, maddening man. He strips me down without even trying—not just my clothes, but all my restraint.

With Nick, there’s no pretending. Just pure vulnerability. Need. And a terrifying amount of desire.

He smirked, that wicked glint flashing in his eyes as he lifted his hands from the water, slowly, and cupped my face. The warmth of his palms made me shiver, but it wasn’t from the cold. He was mirroring me, tracing my face like I had done to his, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones, down my jawline... and then lower.

His hands drifted down to my collarbone, trailing sparks in their wake, until they reached my breasts.

He didn’t grab. He didn’t rush. He worshipped.

With the backs of his fingers, he grazed the swell of each one, featherlight touches that sent ripples through me. Then he found my nipples, already taut, already begging for more. He rolled them slowly between his fingers, like he was shaping something precious, like he was memorizing every texture, every reaction.

My breath caught.

His gaze never left mine. Those dark, stormy eyes shifted, no longer playful, no longer teasing. Pure. Burning. Lust. Like he wanted to devour me slowly, from the inside out.

He leaned in, his hand sliding up to cradle my neck, the other still playing with my breast, his thumb circling lazily.

"Can my lips memorize yours, too?" he asked, voice husky, almost sinful, his smile full of wicked intent.

God, how could I say no to that?

If he wanted to claim me, let him.

Take me, Captain.

I’m already yours.

*********

Thank you for the Golden Tickets!

Heide_Watson

Kris_K16