Page 14 of Easy Come

Chapter Eleven

Georgie

Isatunder the flickering light bulb hanging over the small kitchen table in my apartment. Tiger, my big orange tabby cat, stretched his body out across the table and curled his long tail over the notebook. I flicked his tail away, but, like a spring, it curled right back. Tiger leaned his head forward, and he pushed it against my hand for some ear rubbing. I put down my pen to grant him his wish.

After the Uber driver dropped me in the parking lot, I'd trudged up the two flights of stairs to my apartment feeling lonely and more than just a little disappointed in myself. I had considered myself a gutsy, daring reporter. At first, this story idea had seemed like just the edgy piece I needed. But I'd thrown just a bit too many of my feelings into the mix. After changing into pajamas and making myself some hot tea, I had sat down, thinking I had at least enough ideas to start the story. But my journaling session hadn't been terribly productive.

I sat back against the chair and looked down at the notebook I'd been staring at for an hour. My tea had turned cold and my ideas had too. I had, however, written the name Trey in every high school doodling font I could remember, and, of course, each time I'd written his name, I framed it with a heart. The man had transformed me from a confident, award winning journalist into a blushing school girl, a school girl with a crush on a boy who only wanted to use her to cheat off her math test. Trey had no interest in me except he knew I could give his company free advertisement in a widely circulated magazine. That sobering reality had prodded me from the warmth of his bed and out the door of his house.

I dropped the pen and got up from the table. I switched off the light and heard Tiger's padded paws hit the floor and trot behind me as I headed to the bedroom.

Meredith could have her reporter position. A broken heart had never been a part of the job description.

Chapter Twelve

Trey

My hand hoveredover my phone for a minute before I coaxed myself to pick it up. As much as Georgie had insisted everything was fine, she had left my house upset. I blamed myself. I should never have betrayed her trust by walking over to watch her on the bed. I couldn't help myself. I'd gone to the very edge of self-control with Georgie, but hearing her quiet moans across the room had finally broken my steely resolve. Obviously, it was a stupid move, and now, I'd no doubt, lost her confidence. If I was smart or had any sense, I would just let it go, let her go and wait to see what she wrote in the magazine. But all my smarts and senses seemed to have disappeared the second Georgie Dempsey walked into my office.

I dialed the number she had given me. I half expected it to go to voicemail and was thrown off guard when she answered. "Hello."

"Georgie, it's Trey, Trey Armstrong."

"Yes, I thought it might be. Listen, I'm sorry I scurried out so fast last night."

"No," I spoke up quickly. "I went back on my promise. I don't blame you for wanting to leave. Look, we can just drop the whole thing. I don't want to push you into doing something that makes you uncomfortable."

She paused. "Actually, I went to bed last night telling myself that this just wasn't going to work out. Then I woke this morning, and instead of feeling relieved by my decision, I felt utter disappointment in myself. I'm usually not such a delicate flower. I want to continue with this sexual awakening. I pulled myself out of bed this morning and wrote a good three thousand words. I want to keep going. Unless of course, it no longer interests you. I can only imagine how busy you are. I could just continue by myself."

"That doesn't sound the least bit fun. If you still want my help with this, I'm glad to lend a hand. Or whatever else it might take. I mean no physical contact still. I will stick to that rule." Even if it is the fucking death of me, I wanted to add but decided against it.

There was a longer pause on her end, and I thought she'd changed her mind again. I was sounding too damn enthusiastic. "Sounds like you need to give it more thought."

"No." The word shot back to me. "No, I've given it plenty of thought. As unusual as last night was, I realized that my sex life hasn't just been peanut butter sandwiches. It's been plain bread. And I'm talking about that white, flavorless kind. I learned some things about myself. I felt—My body reacted in a way—Never mind, you'll have to read all about it in my article. So, yes, any help or advice you want to give this plain bread girl, I'll take it."

Instantly, my cock reacted to the idea of helping her. I shifted on the kitchen chair to relieve the pressure. Even though no amount of publicity was worth the physical torture I was going to go through helping Georgie find her sexual self, I couldn't say no. Mostly because I wanted to be near her.

"It's Saturday and the weather is great. Why don't I take you out on my boat." The suggestion popped into my head and out of my mouth before I'd given it much thought.

"You have a boat? Of course you have a boat. You'll need to excuse me. I'm one of those regular people who is thrilled when I have extra money to buy a ticket to a movie with a boat in it, let alone enough to ever actually own a boat. Yes, I'd like that. Where should I meet you?"

"I can pick you up."

"No, I'd rather just meet you. That way I'll have my own car just in case."

"All right." I made sure to push away the disappointment in my voice. It was clear she didn't completely trust me. Couldn't blame her. "The Bridgeport Marina, slip eighteen. I'll see you in an hour. Bring a swimsuit. I've got everything else you'll need."

Chapter Thirteen

Georgie

Slipeighteen at the marina contained a beautiful boat, with a nice shiny white hull and lots of slivery chrome. But the thing that really caught my eye was the glistening, shirtless man in swim trunks and a blue captain's cap.

Trey's white smile gleamed out from under the shade of his hat. He waved and climbed down from the top deck to meet me at the dock. He lowered a small gangplank, and I walked across and onto his boat. White and blue striped seats lined the stern, and there was plenty of sunning space at the bow. I'd been on a few ski boats, a rented party pontoon and a whale watching boat. This was definitely my first time on a luxury yacht, although it was smaller than I'd imagined.

"Welcome aboard thePlaything Two."

"It's beautiful. Why two?"

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