Fully English

CHAPTER 9

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" I blast at him. George would be back in here any second and didn't want to have to explain what was going on. Heck I barely knew myself.

"Have you spoken to the police yet?"

"Damon, this isn't the time," I protest.

"You promised."

"I know but I'm... busy right now."

He scans me with those molten eyes – from my low-cut bodysuit to my figure-hugging jeans. "On a date I see."

"What's it to you?"

He smirks again. "Do you even know who you're on a date with?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I fire.

His phone buzzes before he answers and opens the car door. "Make sure you drop the charges."

He disappears into the night just as quickly as he came, his black form fleshing seamlessly with the darkness. A few minutes pass before the door reopens but this time it is actually George with a brown paper bag – emblazoned Bentley's BBQ – in his clutch.

"Got some takeaway dessert," he explains with a smile. "Vanilla cheesecake."

Now it's my turn to smirk.

"Wow, vanilla instead of chocolate eh?," I tease. "Someone's had a change of heart."

"Actually it's for you."

I tinkle a laugh and beam. "Christ you're so moist."

His eyes go back to my lap and he licks his lips adoringly. "Are you?"

I nearly throw my phone at him. "Stop."

He grins and holds his hands up in surrender. "Or you could suck me off... whichever you prefer."

I roll my eyes. "God you're so –"

"Cheesy? Smooth? Delectable?" he supplements and gestures to the paper bag. "Hence the cheesecake. Wouldn't say I'm vanilla though... at least not in the bedroom."

"Touché," I fake an irritated tone but in truth I am turned on. His winking eyes, mischievous grin and witty punchlines hit the spot for me. Every time I think I am immune to his charm, he throws another one of those puns at me and I am suddenly smiling again.

Nonetheless, I keep a straight face when George leans over my body to reach for his keys which are near my side. We're in each other's personal space for a second too long, both still, our noses brushing up against one another. Then suddenly we are kissing, our bodies contorting to make room for each other as he climbs into the backseat with me. I'm on the bottom and he is on top, his hands roaming over the clothed parts of my body whilst his lips roam the exposed parts. I whimper and try to keep from moaning when I feel his tongue's warm sensation descending down my chest to the depths of my cleavage.

His fingers are sliding under the strap of my bra when I realise that I cannot proceed. As much as I want him to have his way with my body, I don't want this to happen right now.

"I'm tired-" I lie.

He kisses my lips to shut me up before trailing to my neck and collar, his breath tickling my skin as he whispers against it. "I can send you to sleep right now if you just relax."

He tilts his head and cups my face to kiss him again but I deny the advance.

"Seriously George stop," I protest. I know my body is screaming for this sexual release but I don't cave in. Instead I listen to my head and readjust my clothes so I am no longer exposed whilst George remains frozen in position, still hovering over me in contemplation. I sense his shock over my denial rippling off of him in waves. He's not used to being told no – the anger shining in his bright eyes is evidence of that.