CHAPTER 133: TRUST ME

Georgia’s POV

Even though it was Sunday, I had buried myself in numbers, financial statements, operational reports, and performance dashboards, catching up on everything I had missed since I was gone. And for the first time in months, I could breathe.

The debts to Jefferson Davis were gone. I can finally say that the company’s finances are finally in a good place. If things went well, we’d be back in the green in just a few months.

I was proud, satisfied even. My team had worked like warriors, pulling the company back from the edge.

After a hot shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and padded down to the kitchen, craving chamomile tea. Just as I lifted the cup to my lips, my phone buzzed.

I glanced at it and saw a message from an unknown number.

[Can you come out for a bit? I won’t stay long.]

I frowned at first, and then I remembered that I gave my number to Nick but forgot to get his.

[Can’t go out. Enter through the back. I’m in the kitchen.]

Minutes later, heavy footsteps filled the silence. I turned, smiling. "Hey, I—"

Nick froze, eyes widening as if he had seen a ghost.

My brows furrowed. I glanced down at myself, touched my cheek but nothing’s wrong with it. "What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You’re only wearing a towel," he said, his voice low, rough.

I blinked. "Oh. I just came from the shower. Wanted tea before locking up. Do you want some? You look tired." I set my cup down and went to hug him, but he stepped back.

What the heck?

A sting shot through me. "Is something wrong? You’re scaring me." My heart pounded wildly.

He dragged a hand down his face, and I saw him gulp. "I only came here to see you for a bit and tell you I’ll be busy this week. That I might even reply late. But then..." His gaze raked over me, dark and dangerous, as he walked closer.

"...you’re standing here, wrapped in something provocative and so easy to take off, and now I’m hard." His hand clamped around my waist, yanking me against him, the evidence of his arousal pressing into me; he was flaunting it, really.

His breath was hot against my ear. "So tell me, Georgia... what are you going to do about it?"

I smirked as I looped my arms around his neck, pressing my chest against him until I felt the tension in his body shift. I pulled him down a bit.

Tilting my head, I brushed my lips close to his ear and whispered, my voice low and teasing. "Let’s go to my room. Let me take care of you... ease away all that tension." I finished with a playful wink before tugging on his tie like he was mine to command.

I didn’t wait for his reply. I wanted him under my control. Like a tethered wolf, he followed, his eyes burning into me as I led him to my bedroom.

By the time we reached the door, his smirk had turned wicked. Mischief radiated from him as I loosened his tie and slid it off slowly, letting my fingers trail down his chest as I unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time.

"Now," I murmured, tossing the fabric aside, "lose the pants and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be right back."

I slipped into the bathroom, grabbing the lavender and mint massage oil Ella had given me—something I’d only ever used on myself. My pulse quickened as I returned, but the sight waiting for me stopped me cold.

He was already sprawled naked across my bed, lying on his side, muscles relaxed but his gaze anything but. That grin—dark, daring, sinful—made my thighs clench. He looked at me like prey he couldn’t wait to devour.

But I have something else on my mind.

"Why are you naked?" I asked, arching a brow, though my lips curved into a smile.

"Waiting for you to ease my tension away," he replied, wiggling his brows in that playful, evil way that made my stomach flutter.

I laughed softly, though I knew exactly what he meant. "On your stomach," I instructed, waving a hand toward the bed. "I’ll ease your tension away with a massage. You must be exhausted after cleaning your penthouse all night and today. And don’t even try to deny it, I can tell you haven’t really rested."

He pouted like a sulky child, his expression almost comical. "That’s it? Just a massage? Nothing more?" His tone was painted with disappointment.

I gave him a pointed look, though my cheeks burned at the heat in his tone. "Yes. We’re both back to work tomorrow. Early morning, long day. So behave. Just enjoy my massage... and then go home."

"What a bummer," Nick groaned, but he finally rolled onto his stomach, muscles flexing as he settled.

I poured oil into my palms, warming it and let it glide over his broad back. His skin was hot beneath my touch, the muscles rippling as I worked over his shoulders. "How did your day go?" I asked casually, fingers kneading firmly.

"It went well. Everything’s in place," he answered.

"That’s all?" I pressed, digging into the knots in his shoulders.

"Yeah... the usual. They scolded me for making them worry when I went missing. After that, it was just a talk about me joining the company. Dad gave me pointers on how to run things."

But even as he spoke, I felt it, the heaviness in his voice, the weight of something left unsaid. Beneath my hands, his body was tense, his muscles telling me what his words didn’t.

When will he trust me? All I want is for him to tell me what’s on his mind, the good and the bad. But he is just keeping everything in himself when I am here, ready to share his pain and misery to lessen the heaviness he is feeling in his heart.

’Please, trust me, Nick. Because I trust you...’