The Wrong Time Read online

  “Do you have to laugh?” I sigh.

  “I’m sorry. But it was really funny.”

  I’m beyond embarrassed at this point, and he can obviously tell, yet he thinks it’s a huge joke.

  Stop overreacting, Georgia. Don’t make this out to be bigger than it is.

  “Yeah, it would have been really funny if I headbutted you in the balls,” I stress, trying to get my point across that he definitely would have been crying in pain.

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t have been laughing, then.” Adam’s lips form a thin line as he nods his head.

  I bite my lip and pull myself up onto my knees, regaining my confidence a little. I throw my leg over Adam, straddling him. Returning to work on the rest of the buttons on his shirt, I place a kiss on his chest after undoing each one. When I’m finished, I open the front, running my hands softly up and down his torso, admiring the sexy toned body in front of me.

  He runs the back of his finger down the side of my face, and I close my eyes, smiling. Warmth spreads through my body as I feel my head trying to follow his touch.

  Adam’s hand cups my face, and he pulls me toward him, our lips meeting. Adam’s passion-filled kisses have me wanting them never to end. I’m on cloud nine, a high I never want to return from.

  I drag his shirt off his body, pushing it down one arm at a time. As I finish, he gathers my T-shirt at the hem, bunching it in his hands, slowly lifting it off my body before breaking our kiss to remove it over my head.

  Good move wearing a boring old bra today, Georgia.

  Adam palms my breasts through my bra, making my nipples stand to attention. He crashes his lips back to mine as I run my hands through his hair, pulling him as close to me as I can get.

  This feels good.

  Right.

  Like nothing has ever happened between us and to us.

  We both need this tonight, and I’m going to do all in my power to make it as good for him as it is for me.

  His hands leave my breasts and snake around the back, and he makes short work of my bra, which ends up in a pile on the floor with my T-shirt. He starts to rub my nipple between his thumb and index finger, sending sparks of electricity to exactly where I like it.

  I pull back from him, shifting my body off his lap, and sit on the couch beside him, my eyes telling him exactly where I want him and now.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, slightly short of breath.

  Damn! He’s obviously missed my hint.

  “Nothing,” I smile. “Just shifting so I can lose some more clothes and help you lose some, too.” I shift again, twisting around, lying back along the couch.

  He smiles as his fingers hook into the side of my track pants, collecting my panties in the process and pulls them down my legs until he gets them to my feet. “Better go carefully here,” he mutters, taking my legs one at a time through my pants.

  I don’t argue. Sure, I want him to hurry, but I’m not going to rock the boat tonight. I’m going to enjoy this and go with the flow of whatever he needs.

  When my pants have joined my other clothing on the floor, I sit up and try to help him lose his pants. Although it may not be as easy as I think it will be.

  “Baby, lay back,” he whispers.

  I don’t want this to be a one-sided thing. I love to pleasure him as much as he does to me.

  Adam stands, sliding his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, kicking them to the side before kneeling on the couch next to my feet. He places his hands on either side of my hips, puts his weight on them, and slowly crawls up my body, his semi-hard cock almost touching me as he moves.

  A moan escapes my lips as Adam reaches my head, our eyes locking. This is the look I’ve been longing for, the one that says I’m safe with him, the one that tells me he loves me.

  “I love you,” I mutter.

  “I love you more,” he replies before lowering his head, our lips softly meeting, massaging each other with an overwhelming need.

  As he gently pinches my nipple, I thrust my pelvis up. I’m pleasantly surprised when I’m met by a now rock-hard cock ready to tease me. I hum into Adam’s mouth as we kiss, hoping he gets the message of what I want. I want to connect with him. I want to be one.

  I’m hungry for him and throw my arms around his neck locking him into place.

  “Hmmm… mmm…” Adam mumbles, pulling back. “Don’t rush, we have all night.”

  “I need you now,” I complain.

  “I have other things in mind before the main show.” He winks.

  Adam trails kisses from my chin, over my breasts, to my center, the sensation leaving goosebumps in its wake. I watch as he goes lower. He juts out his tongue, drawing a line along my slit. It’s even hotter watching your man do this to you than simply feeling it.

  As much as Adam and I have been through in our short time together, I can feel we’re getting back on track. I think I can trust him not to treat me badly again. My love for him never left, it was the trust I had problems with.

  We’ll get back to where we were sooner rather than later, and he’ll help me work through my problems.

  He’s got my back as I have his.

  Adam

  This wasn’t how I saw tonight going. I had no intention of having sex with Georgia, especially not on the couch. But the temptation was too big to ignore. She was so sexy lying there, naked, looking at me with those wanting eyes. It was way too quick for both of us. I guess that’s what happens when we both held off for so long. Next time will be much more special, an extended version in our bed.

  I’m hoping things go back to the way they were before now. I’ve begun to gain her trust again. I’m not sweeping it under the rug, it was a dick move on my part, but I’ll never treat her that way again. Surely, she sees that now.

  After grabbing some tissues for her, I collect her clothes and sit on the couch, waiting for her to sit up so I can help her dress. I know she doesn’t really need the help anymore, but I want to offer it.

  Clipping her bra back into position, she looks at me with a question on her lips.

  “Adam,” she smiles.

  “Yes, Georgia,” I reply, waiting for what she’s about to hit me with.

  “You know your gym here?”

  Shit! She’s worked it out.

  The question has my heart dropping to my stomach.

  Does she know where I go?

  Is she giving me a chance to confess?

  “The gym? Yeah,” I answer, trying to stop my voice from wavering.

  “Do you think you’d be able to show me how to use some of the equipment?”

  “I’ve already told you you’re welcome to use it.” My heart rate is still racing, but I will it to calm down a little because maybe this is just a simple question.

  “I know I can use it, but I’d love it if you could show me how to use some of the equipment.” Her grin tells me she has other ideas for what’s in my gym.

  “Sure.”

  “Deal.” She claps her hands together a couple of times.

  Puffing out a sigh of relief, I watch as Georgia throws her top over her head. Her eyes have narrowed as though she’s trying to work out what’s going through my mind.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Georgia questions suddenly.

  I gulp and shake my head trying to deflect the question. “No. Not at all.”

  “Okay, spill it, mister. Remember honesty and trust? I’m not buying this shit.” Her whole expression has changed.

  I can feel the words I want to tell her rising in my throat. Perhaps if I tell her now those endorphins running through her body will soften the blow. Even if only a little.

  Maybe she’ll accept you, flaws and all, a little voice at the back of my mind says.

  That’s wishful thinking.

  I don’t believe she will accept this at all.

  I’m not usually an insecure man, but when it comes to this bombshell and Georgia, I am. She’ll do exactly what Connie did. Leave. I can’t ha
ve that, not after finding Georgia at the right place and time. But maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe it was the wrong time for both of us. Look at what’s happened since we’ve gotten together.

  My mind is racing at the same rate as my heart, and I can feel my forehead dampen with a fine layer of perspiration. I can see Georgia looking at me, confusion written all over her beautiful face. Her mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.

  “Adam. Adam…” Georgia calls, shaking my arm.

  Closing my eyes and re-opening them, I look at her.

  I know this is it.

  I have to tell her.

  “Georgia… I have to tell you something.”

  Her eyes widen, and she clutches softly at her chest. “What is it?” she cautiously asks.

  “I’ve been keeping something from you for a while now, and I can’t hold it in any longer. I think it’s time you knew.”

  “Are you seeing someone else?” she whispers.

  “What? No. Why would you think that?” I smile. “But it is something I have to share with you, so we can both move forward.”

  “Whatever it is, Adam, we’ll deal with it.” Georgia lightly touches my arm in reassurance. I can see the worry in her eyes.

  “Somehow, I doubt that.” My eyes look away. Perhaps if I don’t look at her while I tell her, it won’t break my heart when a look of disgust and shock spreads across her face. I take a deep breath before I start, “This began back in my teenage years. I got in with the wrong crowd. I thought they were friends, and given that I didn’t have many, I held onto them and followed them around as it felt good to be included in groups.”

  She nods, shuffling on the couch, crossing her bad foot over her other knee, gently massaging it.

  “Within a few months, I was drinking heavily with them. It started out only on weekends, and then it moved to after school as well. There were even some days when we’d blow off certain classes and spend the time in the locker rooms getting trashed.”

  “So, you were an alcoholic?” she asks slowly as if she’s carefully choosing her words.

  I nod. “I am an alcoholic. I’ll always have the title.” I’m now waiting for the moment she leaps to her feet and flees.

  She thinks for a moment, before adding, “Shit! Did your parents find out?”

  “This was after my dad had passed away. So, it was just Mom. I tried my hardest to hide it from her. She didn’t need any extra stress after Dad passing away so suddenly. But I got caught red-handed with a hip flask at school. One of the gym teachers caught me. Luckily, I’d just had gym and hadn’t had a swig of the whiskey in the flask. I told the teacher that I’d found it on the floor of the locker room when I came back to get my wallet. He believed me, but I still got in trouble as the gym teacher thought I knew who the flask belonged to, and I was trying to cover it up.”

  “Oh no, so your mom found out?” Georgia asks, her head resting on her hand.

  “Yeah, and she sent me to a troubled teen program at our local youth center. That’s where I met Ed.”

  “Ed? As in Dad?” she asks, slightly shocked.

  “Yes, your dad was one of the volunteers. He took me under his wing. I spilled my guts to him, told him about everything that was happening at school, and he told me that if I gave up all of that and those friends, he’d give me a part-time job at his company while teaching me business. It was an amazing opportunity, and I jumped at it.”

  A tear wells in Georgia’s eye, and she uses the back of her finger to wipe it away. “He was the best.”

  I briskly nod. She’s right. Her father was amazing, and she has every right to be proud of him.

  “It was hard going at first. The temptation to drink was so strong, and the so-called friends I had wouldn’t let up on me. Even resorting to trying to set me up at school. But luck was on my side each time, and they gave up after a while.”

  “Kids can be shits. Peer pressure is awful,” Georgia adds.

  “It is. I completed an Alcoholics Anonymous course which was part of your father’s deal with me, and all was good for a long time. I finished school, started working with your dad full-time, and put in long hours to work my way up the company. It was great.”

  “That’s fantastic, Adam. So glad you met Dad.” She smiles.

  I give her a tight-lipped grin—if only it were the whole story.

  This is where it falls apart.

  “But then your dad got sick. I was only in my mid-twenties, still green around the edges, but I took on more and more responsibilities as your dad became sicker and sicker.”

  Her breath hitches as her hand splays across her chest. I can see she’s holding back the tears. She’s normally so strong when we speak about her father, possibly only shedding a single tear here and there. I reach across, placing my hand on her knee, gently rubbing my thumb back and forth. She places her hand on top of mine, squeezing it a little, telling me she’s good.

  “With the responsibilities, came stress and a lot of it. Basil, Max, and Darius were godsends, helping me when I needed it. But after hours, when I was alone, I’d either stay in the office or go back to my small apartment, and what started as one drink to help me calm down, soon became a bottle, which soon became a way to help me go to sleep.”

  “So, you relapsed?” Georgia asks quietly, her hand still on mine, and her delicate fingers wrap around the side of my hand, holding on.

  “I didn’t want to. I tried to be so strong, but the stress got too much, and I broke. I failed. I broke a promise to myself, to your father, to my mom. I failed everyone. But it got so much worse when I turned up at the hospital to visit your father. He didn’t have long left. I’d had a few whiskeys to calm my nerves before going up to see him as earlier that day, the doctor had told Mom she had the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. I was a mess. I needed to talk to Ed for five minutes, even if it was one-sided. As I went to walk into his room, a nurse walked past and smelled the alcohol on my breath and turned me away. Told me to sober up before I came back. Your dad died two hours later, and I never got a chance to say goodbye.”

  This time tears form in my eyes and run down my cheeks. I look to Georgia, who also has tears flowing.

  “So, we both didn’t get to say goodbye. My mom wouldn’t let me visit him. Told me it would scar me for life. Instead, it made me hate her more, and the scars are deep. So, this would explain how you were at the funeral.” Georgia sniffles.

  “Not really. I got blind drunk the night before the funeral. I felt as though my world was falling around me. Mom was sick. Ed was gone. Even though Basil, Max, and Darius helped as much as they could, they had commitments at home, either with their young children or new wives. They didn’t have the same know-how your dad did with me. So, I gave up my position as a pallbearer as I couldn’t stand straight. I don’t even remember speaking to anyone at the funeral.”

  “You spoke to me, but you were very distant. I assumed you were as sad as I was. But I was only a teenager when that happened. I wouldn’t have known what someone drunk was like.”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t,” I mutter, a sob escaping my throat. I take a second to breathe a few times deeply. “I’m sorry I was such an ass to you that day. It’s haunted me for so many years.”

  I haven’t been this emotional for a very long time. I’m raw, and it’s taking its toll on me.

  “Don’t, Adam. What’s in the past is in the past. We don’t need to worry about that now. I want to move forward with you.” Georgia shuffles toward me on the couch and wraps her arms around my neck. Her mouth is close to my ear. “I love you, Adam Cunningham. Nothing will change that fact.”

  I grab her hands, pulling her back from me. She looks shocked and slightly worried. Her eyes search my face for an answer.

  “I had been sober for so long. I cleaned myself up. Manned up and took over EG Enterprises. Had a few hurdles here and there, including building this house, thought I’d found love, got engaged, and then she left me, an
d on top of that I had to put Mom into a home. None of that tempted me to go back to the drink.”

  Georgia slowly nods. She knows about Connie but doesn’t know the full story, so this may fill her in a little more.

  “After our fight, and you left… the night Blaze took you… I turned to the drink again. I drank myself stupid. It’s only happened one time, and I’ve been seeing my sponsor, Patrick, and attending meetings again. I want to be honest with you, and I was told I need to be, and that it may help me to get past this latest setback. I have every intention of reaching my sobriety goals again.”

  I brace for her reaction. It feels as though she’s staring at me for the longest time, not saying a word. She must be processing what I’ve said. I’ve haven’t felt so vulnerable in front of another person since I was a teenager.

  No idiot, she’s working out a way to get out of this house as fast as she can. The little voice in my head is probably right.

  Has this affected us as a couple?

  We’re a great couple when both of us are at our best, but even I know this is a test when we are both down.

  Can we come back from this?

  Georgia

  Standing from the couch, not worrying about my stupid crutches, I pace back and forth. I can’t think of anything else to do besides pace to walk out my thoughts.

  My brain is awash with images and scenarios.

  I’m not angry at Adam.

  I have no right to be.

  This is his battle, just as dealing with my past and the kidnapping is mine. In time, we will both work through our demons and support each other.

  But I do need a moment to process this.

  Did I make him relapse?

  Adam’s head is in his hands, which are resting on his lap. He looks so broken. As shocked as I am that he relapsed again only three weeks ago, I can somewhat understand given what has happened. It would have been the same time his mom dropped the bombshell about Blaze being his possible brother and then him kidnapping me.

  The television is on in the background, and it’s the only noise in the room. The movie’s still playing even though we have barely watched any of it.