“Come on, then, sweetheart,” she said, putting on a pretty decent imitation of him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

His eyebrow rose at her use of his lingo, but he didn’t take his clothes off. Something occurred to her, something ridiculous, considering she was, literally, bare-assed naked. She knew Julian’s body, knew much about him, the name of his first pet, his child…hell, she knew his address in London. But he didn’t know her at all. She’d just gotten naked with a man she’d “known” for years, but to him, she was a stranger. And getting naked in front of an utter stranger could be daunting.

“Let me see you, Julian,” Georgie said, voice husky.

He pushed his briefs down over his hips and stepped out of them. She hissed in a breath, her tongue sliding along her lips in a reflex. His prick was as lovely as the rest of him. And yes, it was long, and it was thick, but completely perfect and proportioned.

Julian cleared his throat, and she realized she was staring.

“I was afraid it was going to split me in half,” she said with a laugh.

He looked startled. “Were you?”

He looked down, taking it in hand and stroking lightly. “And now you’re reassured? Should I be embarrassed?”

She laughed again, and he gave her an admiring glance. “Fuck, you have a sexy laugh.”

She’d never thought of it as particularly sexy, but then she’d never imagined herself as anything she’d become tonight. “I like to laugh.”

“Me, too.” He stepped closer, hand still on his cock.

Georgie watched, fascinated, as his length vanished and reappeared into the cave made by his curled fingers. She licked her lips again.

“Come here,” she said, and he did at once. Again the sense of power filled her, erotic and heady. The sense of being in control, of doing, not simply being done to. She reached for him. Her fingers closed around his length. She felt his skin, thin and hot. She stroked, moving it, and his pulse rushed against her palm.