George sat back, eyes wide.

"George Wilder, are you scared of me?" Scout asked, eyes merry, picking up her wine glass and taking a drink.

George picked his up, too, draining it in one, panicked gulp and setting it down, much too close to the edge of the table. Scout moved it to a safer place, shaking her head.

"Scout?" George asked, looking at her carefully.

"Yes George?" she responded playfully.

"Are you drunk, by any chance?" he asked, glancing at her wine glass.

Scout laughed, a reassuring sound that George loved. "Jesus, George, of course not! My great-uncle owns a vineyard in Massachusetts, and I've been drinking his vintages since I was thirteen! It would take a lot more than four glasses of chardonnay to get me drunk." She leaned forward, and George could smell her honeysuckle hair and warm breath, which quickened his heartbeat.

"You don't have to worry about taking advantage of me, if that's what's on your mind," she said softly, seriously.

She looked into his eyes. "Look at me, George, look at me. Do I seem impaired to you? Am I saying weird things or slurring my words?"

He shook his head, and she shook hers in agreement.

"No, I'm not. You are, a bit, though," she said, smiling a small smile. "So maybe this isn't a good idea, then, hm?" She patted his arm. "I wouldn't want you to do anything you'd regret, you know?" She looked at him, eyebrows raised.

He began to nod, then stopped abruptly as the meaning of her words hit him. "What? No, wait a minute! I'm fine, you! I'm not pissed, if that's what you're thinking!" he said indignantly, sitting up, blinking at her.

Once again, Scout burst out laughing, though, thankfully, this time she didn't snarf any wine.

"You know, I'd feel better about things in general if you didn't spontaneously burst out laughing at me at odd moments," George said seriously, leaning forward.

"Sorry, so sorry," Scout said contritely, sniffing copiously, looking around the room and trying to gain control of her laughter.

"Okay, okay, I'm good, I'm good," she said hopefully, looking at him once more. She took him in, from his beautiful eyes, still looking indignantly at her as he sat up tensely, his arm leaning on the back of the couch, to his long legs, one tucked under the other, beautiful thighs flexed in his Manchester United sweats.

Scout leaned forward, resting the slim fingers of her right hand on his calf, turning her head as she moved her body slowly toward George. She touched her cheek softly against his, causing his eyes to flutter shut at the sensation of her skin touching him. She pressed her lips against his jaw, just under his ear, giving him a gentle kiss, letting him feel the warmth of her breath, the wetness of her mouth, and hear the sound of her lips. She moved slowly along his jaw, getting closer and closer to his mouth, as his hand moved off the back of the couch and found her hair, pressing her head closer to him.

She waited to see what he would do, and, as she hoped, he turned his head to meet her mouth with his, fastening his lips to hers softly, making a little sound through his nose as he did, a small moan of delight and contentment.

He moved his other arm around her waist, anchoring her to him, as he opened his mouth slightly on hers. He pulled his head back a little before moving in again, and Scout could feel him sucking on her bottom lip as he pulled her closer, and holy fuck it felt so sexy. Next she felt his wet tongue licking gently along her lips, and she parted them for him. Feeling his warm tongue in her mouth made her feel so swoony she thought she might just fall right off the couch.

This was nothing like how she remembered kissing Will.

Scout looped her arms around George's neck, and dug her fingers into his long hair, giving an experimental tug, and the effect on him was galvanizing. He moaned, a moan of pleasure and excitement, as if in the throes of an orgasm. Scout felt a tingling in the roots of her own hair, her nipples, her abdomen, in her sex, in response to his moan.

Wow.

George really liked to have his hair pulled, it seemed.

When Scout pulled his hair, the combination of that, plus the taste of her mouth, flavored with the chardonnay, made George see stars. He sucked on her mouth, pulling her soft tongue into his, reveling in the feel of it, the wetness, the warmth.

He moved his hand up her smooth back, feeling the soft fabric of her pajama top whisper under his fingers, and though he was dying to slide his hand under it, he resisted, knowing that it might be too soon. She wasn't some girl he'd picked up somewhere, someone unimportant. Even after a few weeks, he knew that this person was going to matter in his life, was going to be significant.

He moved to her neck, smelling the marvelous fragrance that clung to her skin after her bath. "Jesus, you smell just incredible," he murmured into her ear, putting his other arm around her, crushing her slender body to his.

In response, she used her legs like pistons, pushing against him, forcing him over backwards, so they landed together on the couch with a thump, with her on top of him. She gave a happy laugh as he let out a surprised, "Ouf!" and laughed himself.

"Kiss me again, George," she whispered.

Neither of them noticed the fire beginning to flicker and smoke, though both dogs lifted their heads and stared.

"My pleasure, Ms. Lawson," he responded, tilting his chin up and fastening his mouth to her lips like raspberry ice. She opened her mouth to him immediately, which pleased him immensely, and he thought the taste of her lips, her tongue, the chardonnay and just her, Scout, was going to kill him, right then and there, Jesus.

As the couple on the couch became more and more wrapped up in each other, the flames grew brighter and brighter, getting closer and closer to the hearth. One of the logs rolled off the holder and right to the edge of the brick. The dogs whined and moved away.

"Quiet, Jess," George said without turning his head.

Little George, of course, had come out to play, and Scout kept rolling her hips into him, whether by accident or on purpose George didn't know, though how could it be on accident? She had to know, she had to feel it, especially after yesterday. It was making him demented, crazy with wanting her, and very close to just going off in his pants like a little kid.

"Um, Scout?"

"Yes?"

"How far do you want to go? Tonight, I mean?"

She sat up to look at him.

"How far do you want to go?" she asked him.

He sat up on his elbows.

"Well, um, usually it's the lady's decision, so to speak," he said delicately. "You know? We fellows generally want to go as far as we possibly can, if you get my meaning." He grinned at her.

"Sounds good to me," Scout responded with a grin of her own, beginning to unbutton her pajama top.

George sat up as if he'd been stuck with a pin.

"What? Whoa, wait, hold on, hold on!" He put his hands over Scout's.

"What's the matter, George?" Scout asked, looking at him, biting her lip. "Do you not want to? Oh my god, you don't want to, do you?" She began buttoning her shirt back up. "Why didn't you say so? How embarrassing."

"What? No, no!" George was shaking his head. "Honestly, woman, talking to you is enough to give a man whiplash, Jesus.

"Listen, please," he said. "Like I said, of course I want to. I just don't think we should, um, move too quickly, that's all. I mean, we've got nothing but time, right?" He looked at Scout appealingly. "The library's nowhere near finished, right? And I haven't got any condoms in the house, either, you know? So where's the harm in waiting? In putting a few parameters in place?" He leaned in and kissed her. "In saying that tonight, for example, we'll keep our trousers on?" He smiled at her.

She stared at him. "Trousers? As in my bottoms?" She flicked at the waistband of her pjs.

He nodded.

She considered, then nodded, smiling back. She leaned toward him, holding her arms out, and he reached for her, too, and neither one of them noticed that both dogs were up, staring at the fireplace.

Scout reached behind George, pulling his shirt off him, and sighed when she felt his hard, toned body against herself. God, he was fit. And after they'd kissed a little longer, George grasped Scout by the waist and turned them, so she was lying under him, hair spread on the yellow cushion of the couch. He unbuttoned her pajama top and laid it open, finally able to see her perfect, tiny, beautiful breasts as she smiled up at him.

"You're beautiful," he breathed. "So, so, beautiful." He lay down on top of her so he could feel the hard nipples poking into his chest, turning them again after a bit and moving her so her breasts were right over his face. He licked first one, then the other as she hovered over him, and the sight of them above him, pointed and pink, was the loveliest sight George had ever seen.

He grasped her by her slender waist and held her, which was so easy because she weighed so little. It took all his willpower not to slide her bottoms down past her hips, but he didn't do it because he'd given his word. Every once in a while, though, he'd catch a whiff of the female fragrance of her, and it was tantalizing. He'd never wanted a woman so much in his life.

Her lips were swollen from kissing him so much, her breasts swollen from George sucking on them, her eyes glazed from desire, her breathing rapid and shallow. It was the sexiest thing George had ever seen.

Suddenly, Bandit gave a serious, warning bark, and they both looked over. A log had rolled completely off the fire and was on the rug, which was smoking, close to catching fire.

Oh my god.

George gave a shout as Scout scrambled off him. George grabbed the heavy tongs and grasped the glowing log as Scout opened the French doors. George manhandled the burning log outside while Scout gathered up the rug and followed him.

Nothing else was burning, so there was nothing else to do but bank the fire and put the screen in front of the fireplace, but the mood was broken. George handed Scout her top, and she quickly put it on and buttoned it.

"How in the world did that happen?" Scout asked, mystified. "I saw how they were stacked when I came in, George, they were stable. Only an earthquake would've displaced that log!"

George shook his head. "I honestly don't know." He tested the screen, but it was sturdy, and wasn't going to move. "Well, things are okay now, I think," he said. "We should get to bed, then." He looked at Scout, who nodded.

They went upstairs, and went into George's bedroom, where George turned to Scout.

"Based on what just happened downstairs, I have a proposition for you," he said with a shy, uncertain smile.

"Like we should sleep in the same bed?" Scout guessed with a smile of her own.

"Yeah," George responded, relieved. "I'm not saying we should, you know, proceed, yet," he said delicately. "It's just, we've done it before, and that's where things are headed, and it's much nicer than sleeping alone, so why not?"

"Why not, indeed?" Scout murmured, stepping into George's arms. "Let's go to bed, George," she said.

"Yeah, let's," he replied, kissing the tip of her nose.

So they did, falling asleep, curled in each other's arms, with the dogs sleeping happily at their feet.