Page 14 of False Start: Chicago Engines (Gridiron Warriors #3)
Weston
The Christmas decorations were already up as we moved through the crowds at O’Hare Airport, headed for the domestic terminal.
The plan had been to arrive early for our flight to Austin, but when I arrived at Georgia’s house, I’d found her elbow deep in tiny, sticky diamonds.
Apparently, she’d heard on a podcast that diamond art was good for mindfulness and had decided to give it a shot.
I had no idea how she’d ended up with the jewels stuck to her face, but it was an adorable look that she didn’t appreciate me pointing out as she threw herself into the shower to get ready.
Somehow, we’d managed to arrive in time for check in, but we wouldn’t be spending time in the flight lounge.
Which seemed a shame because my girl could have used a drink.
She was practically vibrating with nerves at the thought of seeing her family.
“Don’t forget to breathe, princess.”
She strode ahead, her heels clicking out an anxious rhythm as I caught her hand.
“Hey. It’ll be alright, okay? I’m right here with you.”
She blinked wild eyes at me, the words settling in slowly until she dropped her shoulders with a nod. “I wish I didn’t have to expose you to them, but if we don’t go there, they’re sure to come to us and that would be infinitely worse.”
I threaded my fingers through hers and gave a gentle squeeze. We set off at a more measured pace, making it through security and to our gate with time to spare.
“When do you have to be back on set?” I asked, hoping to distract her.
“Ahh… next week, I think. But I have a fight scene to learn before then, so I need to be home before the weekend.”
We were booked to fly back the following evening. I’d suggested we spend some time exploring while we were there, but Georgia was adamant that an escape plan was best. Her exact words.
At this point I wasn’t sure how I’d react to meeting her family. They’d obviously caused her a lot of distress over the years and the part of me who liked to come to her rescue had visions of knocking out her parents on sight dancing through my head.
A voice over the speaker announced our flight was boarding first class and business. Tugging on Georgia’s hand, I pulled her into the queue.
“Why are we lining up? They aren’t boarding us… wait. What did you do?”
I gave her my best estimation of an innocent look, but honestly, she was the actor here, not me. “Economy doesn’t give me enough leg room.”
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she tried and failed to suppress a smile.
Yes, I had let her think we were paying for our own tickets, but she had to realize I wouldn’t let her reimburse me, even if I had been inclined to spend two hours cramped into tiny seats with someone reclining the chair in front of me so they lay across my knees.
Not to mention the chances of me being recognized were higher. No thank you.
“You cheated.”
“I did.”
“Thank you.”
We strolled down the air bridge and made our way to the comfortable seating of business class. Georgia took the window seat and became engrossed in the comings and goings of the ground crew as I retrieved a couple of pillows and a blanket from the overhead locker.
The distraction of business class wore off as our plane taxied across the tarmac, and by the time we hit cruising altitude, Georgia was back to fretting about Thanksgiving.
I flagged down a stewardess and requested two glasses of wine, passing one to Georgia and urging her to take a sip and lie back.
“There’s nothing we can do about what will or won’t happen when we get there, but for right now, let’s enjoy ourselves.”
She obeyed as beautifully as ever, but it was apparent her mind hadn’t settled. Once her glass was empty, I unfolded the blanket and spread it across both our laps, then offered her a pillow for her head.
“I’m not going to be able to sleep on a two-hour flight, Weston. Thank you for trying.”
“Not what I had in mind, princess.”
Her eyes shot to mine as she registered the growl in my tone.
That’s right. I know how to make you relax.
I slid one hand beneath the blanket, squeezing her knee. Without further instruction, she made room for me, and I sent up a prayer of gratitude for her preference for skirts and dresses.
Moving slowly to avoid drawing attention, I rubbed a knuckle over the panel of her panties, giving her a warning look as a small gasp escaped her lips.
“You’re going to have to stay quiet for me, Georgie girl. Can you do that?”
She nodded, eyes wide as she tilted her hips into my knuckle.
“Good girl,” I muttered and slipped my hand beneath the fabric. Warm, slick flesh slid beneath my fingertips, and I gritted my teeth against a possessive growl.
She was always ready for me.
“I’m starting to think you have an exhibitionist kink.”
Her plump lips parted on a silent breath as I pushed two fingers deep into her pussy.
Checking the cabin for unwanted eyes, I ground the heel of my palm against her clit while pumping into her in long strokes. The row across from us was mercifully empty, and a glance behind us confirmed the occupants had already donned headphones and buried their heads in their tablets.
“Does the thought of getting caught make you wet?”
She wrapped one small hand around my wrist, using the leverage to grind against my hand, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on her pleasure.
She was beautiful like this. Undone. Focused on taking what she wanted. What she deserved.
A small gasp was all the noise she made as her back arched in a beautiful curve, her muscles squeezing my fingers like a vise. I stroked her through the trembles that rocked her body and waited until she released a final contented breath before pulling away.
Her skin was flushed a beautiful pink, the color giving a glow to her cheeks that I wanted to photograph. She rolled her head on the headrest and settled heavy, satiated eyes on me.
“Thank you. You’re so good to me,” she said, her voice dreamy, like maybe she could take the nap she’d denied earlier.
“I like taking care of you,” I said, kissing her on the nose.
She hummed a happy noise and closed her eyes. The sigh she released as she settled in told me that for now her stresses had been held at bay.
As the plane started its descent and the seat belt sign pinged on above us, Georgia stirred from her nap, rubbing a sleepy hand over her face like she could cast out the roar of the engines and the stewards making preparations for landing.
“Time to wake up, princess. We’re just about there,” I murmured. “Orgasms really wipe you out, huh? At least I’ll know what to do if you ever struggle with sleep.”
“Happy for you to give me a sleep aid any time,” she said, and cracked an eyelid.
“You just have to ask.”
Once we’d disembarked, we fought our way through the crowded airport to the baggage claim, grabbed a taxi out front, and were on our way to our belated Thanksgiving celebration.
“There’s still time to bail, you know,” Georgia said in a small voice, wringing her hands.
“Not going to happen. I’m in this with you. I’m shooting for the best fake boyfriend ever award.”
My joke fell flat, if the way her shoulders curled in was any indication. I felt powerless to help as she pulled into herself in a way I hadn’t seen since the first day we met.
Georgia was a big personality. Selfless, despite the circumstances we found ourselves in, and impulsive in a way that kept life exciting. But when she felt uncomfortable, the voice in her head that told her she wasn’t good enough was loud.
We pulled up to a beautiful two-story craftsman in the suburbs sometime later, and while I appreciated the architecture, Georgia pulled further into herself.
“Are you sure you don’t want to bail?” I asked, giving her hand a squeeze.
She shook her head and thanked the driver as she slipped out onto the curb.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, straightening her dress.
With every step she took toward the door, the Georgia I knew seemed to recede.
Her shoulders were squared, her stride long, and by the time we reached the door, she looked ready for battle.
Without bothering to knock, she strode inside, pausing at the sight of a huge golden retriever who lifted its head from where it lay in the front hall.
“Bessie.”
At the sound of its name, the dog lumbered to its feet and trotted over to Georgia who immediately dropped to the floor. Golden strands of fluff floated through the air as the beast crawled all over Georgia’s prone form, licking and nuzzling my giggling fake girlfriend.
I leaned against the wall wearing a small grin as I watched her greet the one family member she clearly missed.
The moment was broken up by the arrival of a petite woman in a black dress and apron who took one look at the beautiful scene in front of us and clicked her tongue in annoyance.
“Get off the ground, Gia. You’re an absolute mess.
I wish you’d think things through just once.
Now you’re going to be covered in dog hair for dinner. ”
As Georgia scrambled to her feet looking chagrined, my presence must have registered for the woman because her demeanor flipped immediately to gracious host.
“You must be the football player. Aren’t you handsome? I’m Gia’s mother. I know, hard to believe. People always think Gia and I are sisters. You can call me Angela. Come, come. Let me introduce you to my husband. Can I get you a drink?”
I glanced back at Georgia as her mother ushered me through the kitchen and out to the back patio. Her face was a blank mask. It hurt my heart to see that despite the fact her body was with us, her mind had taken off for somewhere else.
Where they couldn’t hurt her.