by G. K. Brady
Something had been triggered inside him, and he couldn’t make heads or tails out of it, but it was raw, and it was visceral. On one hand, his blood effervesced with joy—he wanted to pound his chest and let loose with a Tarzan howl—yet on the other, it troubled him that she could think being with only two men made her lame. His overarching emotion, though, and the one thundering through him as he held her, was the need to make her his.
Chapter 21
Making Beautiful Music
While Lily worked in his kitchen, her back to him, Gage watched her with something like star mist clouding his brain—maybe he was still floating in a post-sex haze. Pretty certain he had a fuck-me grin permanently frozen on his face, he basked in the domestic scene and let his mind wander. This is what it could be like every day. Everything about this felt right, though he couldn’t form it into precise words. No, the feels were flowing over him, but like quicksilver, he couldn’t grasp them. He just knew that when he was with her, he didn’t want to stop being with her. Didn’t want to miss a minute. Not tonight, not any night.
She turned and slid a full platter of colorful food onto the island. “I found all kinds of great stuff. You eat really healthy.”
“Because I pay someone to cook my meals and stock the healthy stuff. Otherwise, it’d be burgers and fries all the way.”
“Oh! I’m surprised we haven’t crossed paths when I’ve stopped by to feed Hobbes.”
“That’s because I only get the service when I’m in town for long stretches.”
“Well, she does a good job. Here are some veggies and dip, and hummus and whole grain toast points,” she said. “I’ve also got a quiche baking, and I’ll make us a fruit salad. These are all things you can eat, right?”
“Wow! Yeah, this is perfect.” When was the last time someone besides his mom—or someone he paid—had gone all out like this? “God, I’m suddenly ravenous. She’s a guy, by the way.” He dipped a red pepper strip in hummus and chomped.
Lily was back at the counter, chopping fruit; she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Who’s a guy?”
He sidled up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist. “The chef’s a guy.”
She tipped her head to the side, and he kissed a line to her ear, where he nibbled her earlobe.
“Do you cook?” she asked.
“A little, when I have the time.” He ran the tip of his nose along her neck. “Hey, Lily?”
She stopped chopping and sagged against him. “Mmm?”
“Stay with me tonight?”
Was that a flinch? Time for the sales pitch. “Daisy’s at Ivy’s,” he began, “and I don’t have to be at the rink until late tomorrow. If you need to finish anything for Paige, you can do it from here on my computer.”
He’d discovered a few extra-sensitive spots on her neck, and he zeroed in on them. “So what do you say? Don’t go home. It’ll be quiet and lonely there,” he mumbled, skimming his lips and tongue over her skin.
Her hair tickled his nose. God, she smelled good.
“I still need a shower, and I don’t have a change of clothes.” Her sultry voice vibrated like it did when she sang her soulful tunes.
Warmth pooled in his gut and spread downward, firing up his dick. “I have something better than a shower—a soaking tub I’ve never used. Help me break it in. As far as a change of clothes, Sarah has a few things in one of the guest rooms. Or you can wear something of mine or … the outfit you were born in.”
She wiggled her ass against his crotch. “I’m guessing you’re in favor of option three.”
Fuck, she was doing an awesome job of torturing him. Fantasies roared to life, and pictures of everything he imagined doing to her scrolled through his head.
“Got that right.” His voice came out thick, husky. “Can you tell the effect thinking about option three has on me?” Grinding against her, he ran his hands across her thighs, her stomach, her chest before wrapping her middle in a boa-constrictor hold.
A breathy moan escaped her, and she hugged his arms to her. “I’m all yours tonight.”
Excitement surged. He barely got his thoughts corralled before they skipped back to fantasyland.
“And you’ll still be here in the morning when I wake up?”
“Yes, Professor. I’ll still be here.”
Oh, he liked the sound of that.
Night had fallen, cloaking the outside in wintry darkness. Sitting beside Lily at his kitchen counter in his sweatpants and a T-shirt, Gage wolfed down half the quiche. She’d fried up a pound of thick-cut bacon, and he’d polished off most of that too.
He was debating about going for more quiche when he caught her mischievous blue eyes watching him over the rim of her wineglass.
“What?” He grinned. “You’re probably saying to yourself, who is this animal scarfing down everything in sight?”
Shaking her head, she set the wineglass down. “Not at all. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you eat a pile of chicken waffles, or whatever that crap was at IHOP. I’m just enjoying watching you enjoy the food I made for you. There’s something satisfying in that. And for the record, I’m fond of the animal.” Blond eyebrows bounced on her forehead.
Between what she said about feeding him, and the fact she hadn’t minded the dirtier side he’d revealed, his animal dick sprang up, ready for action.
She took the last tiny bite of her quiche and pointed her fork at his plate. “Are you a sequential eater?”
He swiped his napkin across his mouth. “Am I a what?”
“You eat your food sequentially. First the quiche, then the bacon, then the fruit.”
“Because that’s the order I piled them on the plate.” He shrugged. “Simple. Neat. Everything fits in its place.”
“Black-and-white?”
“Pretty much.”
“Is that your philosophy for life, Professor?”
“Pretty much. That and following your moral compass.”
Her brows drew together. “Meaning?”
“If you always follow your moral compass—in other words, if you always do the right thing—the answer to a problem should be a no-brainer.”
“You mean it’s easy?”
“No, not easy, but clear. Straightforward.” He knifed his hand.
“I’m not sure it’s so simple. What about the gray areas?”
“The gray areas become crisper when you do the right thing.”
“What if there’s more than one right answer?”
“You get extra credit.” He grinned.
She tossed her hair back with a musical laugh. God, he loved the sound of her laughter. Rich and full, like her voice.
He slid her plate onto his, deposited the dishes in the sink, and topped off their wineglasses before tilting his chin at her glass. “Grab your wine.” Taking her free hand in his, he led her to the couch and flipped on the fireplace. The gas flames added a cheerful glow to the room.
She eyed his acoustic guitar propped beside the couch. “Play something for me?”
He was suddenly self-conscious. “I’m not good. I just dick around to help me relax.”
“How long have you been playing?”
“Since middle school, I guess, so maybe thirteen, fourteen years?”
She pushed her hair off her face. “Then I doubt you sound like you’re just ‘dicking around.’ C’mon, Professor. Let’s make some music together.”
Something tickled in his chest as he reached over and hoisted his guitar. “I play and you sing?”
Her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds floating on ocean waves. “Let’s do it.”
A flush of excitement raced through him even as doubts churned away in his mind’s crank sifter, and it showed in the nervous rhythm he beat out on the guitar body with his thumb. “Being a blues girl, you should know this one.”
He began playing “Why Don’t You Do Right,” and to his delight, she started right in. Entranced, he watched her expressions as he played, took in the vibrations of her be
autiful voice. While she sang, she kept her eyes shut, seeming to feel every note.
The song ended, and her eyes fluttered open. “You play very well, Professor.” She gave him a smile that lit her eyes. “What do you think? We’re not too bad, huh?”
He swallowed, trying to coat his dry throat. It was all he could do to keep from throwing the guitar aside and pulling her against him. “Not bad,” he rasped. “You have such a pretty voice.”
An hour later, they were still making music together. Lily stood in front of the fireplace, her voice sending chills dancing up and down his spine as she belted out a final chorus. Hobbes lounged on an armchair, her tail flicking in time to the song that poured from Lily’s soul.
When it ended, Gage clapped and whistled with all he had. Lily took bows in all directions and even gave him a goofy curtsy, erupting in laughter. She looked as though she belonged there. Maybe because she did.
Without doubt, she was the most perfect woman he’d ever known.
When he’d first spotted her at the wedding, he’d been struck by her music. That had morphed into like at first sight. Lust at first sight. But love at first sight? He hadn’t believed the phenomenon existed, but now he was reconsidering. How else could he explain feeling so much so intensely so fast?
The notion threw him, and he masked his discomfort by strumming a random tune. She closed her eyes and waved her arms gracefully above her head like sea grass swaying in a current. Her top crept up, and a stripe of creamy skin flashed him. He pictured what was concealed beneath the sweater, and his cock stirred. Again.
He was resigned to the fact that he’d be in a permanent state of semi or full wood around her. She opened her eyes again and glided her hands down her sides with a sultry smile.
Fuck yeah! Semi became steel in a nanosecond. He put the guitar aside. “I like.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe we should clean up the kitchen? I’ll help.”
“Kitchen. Right.” Cockblocked by dirty dishes.
When he finished loading the dishwasher, she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Almost done, Professor?”
He turned in her hold. She raised up on tiptoe and gave him a kiss that zapped all conscious thought.
“Hey,” he breathed when they uncoupled their lips. “I’m feeling a little dirty. Bath?”
She smirked. “Dirty as in dirty, or dirty as in filthy?”
“Yes.” He waggled his eyebrows.
The look she gave him could’ve scorched his pants off. He picked her up in his arms, and she began giggling and kicking her legs.
“Settle down now,” he laughed. “Don’t make me play harem fireman and throw you over my shoulder.”
She stopped kicking, dropped her arms around his shoulders, and he wasted no time carrying her upstairs.
Chapter 22
Phantom Shadows
Lily lay between Gage’s legs, her back to his front, steamy water lapping around her torso. Singing with him had been … magical. Like nothing she’d felt since Jack’s death. And like Jack had always done, Gage complimented her singing, though she picked up an awe in Gage’s tone she’d never heard in Jack’s.
The comparison caused a tear inside her where guilt rushed in. Suddenly, Jack’s presence clouded her mind, and she once again questioned her loyalty. She shouldn’t be here with Gage. But she was. And being here, with him, was where she wanted to be. At least for tonight. Was that so wrong?
“Where’d you go, Goldilocks?”
Gage’s voice stirred her back to his tub. How had he sensed her mind floating off to a distant time and place? “I guess I just drifted for a moment. How did you know?”
“You seemed to tense up.”
Willing her muscles to relax against Gage, she pushed Jack’s ghost from her mind and focused on her surroundings: the luxurious stone-and-tile bathroom, the pines swaying outside the window, Gage’s bent knees that she used like armrests.
Armrests of a throne. Queen Lily. Queen Lily and her sex stud.
Oh yeah.
His chin resting on her head, her sex stud scooped water over her bare shoulders and breasts. She closed her eyes and let her senses fill with the smell of burning vanilla-scented candles, the sound of blues playing softly in the background, and the feel of Gage’s hard planes against her. One especially hard plane—well, rod, to be more precise—had been lodged along the channel of her spine since they’d climbed into his tub-for-two. He seemed to be in no hurry to do anything with it.
“How do you like the tub so far?” he asked.
“Your tub is awesome.”
His fingertips feathered across a spot on her shoulder. “Looks like I got a little carried away earlier and left a mark. Does this hurt?”
She craned her neck but couldn’t see. “No, I don’t feel anything. What kind of mark?”
“A big hickey.”
She let out a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve had a hickey since high school.”
“I don’t think I’ve given one since high school.” He drizzled water over the spot he’d been inspecting. “Lean forward.”
When she did, he turned on a hand-held sprayer and worked it over her head and neck. Then he dispensed shampoo into his palm and began rubbing it into her hair, building up a thick lather.
She dropped her head back. “That feels soooooo good,” she moaned.
Wordlessly, he kneaded her scalp. She pushed into his touch like a lazy cat. He rinsed her hair and pulled her back against him. As she drifted in bliss, she was vaguely aware he was soaping his big hands. Those hands began massaging her shoulders, her arms, her fingers, and glided to her breasts where they lingered, no doubt to give them a thorough cleaning.
God, yes! Please be my sex stud.
His mouth lay alongside her ear. “I’ll gladly be your sex stud.”
Her eyes popped open. “I said that out loud?”
“You sure did.” His magic hands didn’t skip a beat. “How’s that?” he whispered. “Pressure okay?”
“Perrrrrrfect.” Her hips might have bucked in response.
“You know,” he rumbled in that deep, panty-melting voice of his as he re-lathered and moved his hands over the rest of her body, “I looked for you after the wedding.”
This brought her out of her lust-filled daze. “Really?”
“Yep.” A low chuckle vibrated his chest. “Turns out it’s hard to find the right Lily when you don’t have a last name.” His hands slid between her legs.
Really, he was making it hard for her to keep a string of coherent thoughts together.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. I just wanted you to know I looked for you, that’s all.”
Back then, it had never occurred to her he would look for her because she’d assumed her one hot night was only one hot night for him too. She hadn’t counted on anything different—she hadn’t counted on Gage Nelson.
“And by the way?” he added.
She wriggled from his hold, rolled over, and parked her chin on his chest.
He tapped the end of her nose with his finger. “The wait was totally worth it.”
As expertly as his hands turned her body into putty, this man was doing the same to her heart, and a wave of something warm washed over her, igniting other parts of her.
Using his shoulders for leverage, she pulled herself up and straddled him. His eyes swept over her languidly, darkening with desire, while his hands stroked her sides. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
Oh my God, so are you. She ran her fingers over his ridged abdomen and carved chest, drinking in the sight of him while he drank her in.
“Maybe once or twice.” She pressed her soft curves against his hard angles and covered his stubbled neck and jaw with unhurried, open-mouthed kisses.
“Well, you are,” he sighed.
You sure make me feel that way. “Thank you. Now I’d be remiss if I didn’t give you as thorough a cleaning as you just gave
me. Ready?”
Heat flashed in his eyes right before his lips crashed onto hers. Their tongues dueled, their hands roamed all over each other, and water splashed onto the floor as they grappled together, trying to gain purchase on slick porcelain.
He grasped her head and pulled her mouth away. “I’m not sure the tub’s so great right now,” he panted.
Still astride him, she pushed him back. “Well, maybe if you’d be a good stud and lie still, we could make this work to everyone’s satisfaction.”
A sly grin played on his face. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever her ladyship commands. Do your worst.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “How about my best?”
His hands gripped her hips. “Oh God, yeah. That too.”
She removed his hands from her hips and wagged a finger at him. “No touching.”
A skeptical eyebrow lifted to his hairline. “How’s that gonna wo—”
“And no talking.” She leaned down, pinning his arms, her breasts brushing his chest, and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth before he could protest. She ran the tip of her tongue just inside his mouth, over his teeth and lips, then nibbled and nipped before kissing him greedily.
His chest heaved against hers, and she swayed over him so only her nipples brushed his skin, back and forth. His arms flexed, and she put more weight on them to hold them down. A growl rose in his throat. She teased him with her body and worshipped his mouth, sinking into its soft depths, and he let out a series of groans.
With light flicks of her tongue, she traced a path to his ear and whispered, “Behave.” This was met with a chuckle until she dragged her mouth down his neck, over his chest, and grazed each of his nipples with her teeth. He lifted himself higher out of the water, sending more splashing over the edge.
Now fully pressed against him, she worked her way down his body. His breathing grew more ragged, and she paused at his stomach, taking her sweet time tracing each of his blocky muscles with her tongue. Lingering to nibble his skin, she let out a few moans of her own. He squirmed, and his muscles twitched. But when she finally took him in her hand, in her mouth, his entire body shuddered to a stop. His eyes locked on hers. She cupped his balls, then licked every inch of him like an ice pop, swirling and sucking his length while he watched. He muttered something unintelligible and finally dropped his head back with a lung-emptying, “Fuuuuuuuuuck!”
