Temporary

by Alexx Andria

  God, that view.

  He had a perfect ass.

  Gage turned to find me staring. “Like what you see?”

  “Hell yes.” The words fell from my mouth like raindrops during a summer storm. I blushed. “I mean, yeah…my eyeballs aren’t burning or anything.”

  He laughed as he climbed into the bed “Get over here.”

  I loved the way his tone slid over my senses like warm chocolate drizzled over cold ice cream. I wasn’t the kind of girl who “melted” except that’s exactly how I felt around Gage.

  I eagerly stripped and climbed into the bed beside him as if I’d done this a million times and it was completely natural.

  But it wasn’t natural, a voice whispered at me. This wasn’t me. I didn’t let people in so easily and for good reason.

  The alarm bells clanged a little more loudly, enough for me to stiffen slightly when Gage curled his arms around me, drawing me tightly to him.

  Was I a human teddy bear? My brows pulled with confusion. He’d already told me this was temporary, that when he was finished with whatever was happening between us, he’d cut me loose.

  I shifted away from his grasp, saying, “I’m not much of a snuggler,” and was relieved when he didn’t insist. Instead, he pulled away, rolled on his opposite side and fell asleep within minutes, completely content.

  But I wasn’t content.

  Gage had completely tipped me upside down within a short 12-hour window.

  Even as Gage had “saved” me, he’d also ruined me.

  Was I supposed to walk away from this experience with a chuckle and a wave, tucking away the memories in wistful silence because I certainly couldn’t talk about it to anyone without revealing my own personal embarrassment at being so pathetic that I would accept a deal like his?

  My body would forever remember his touch, how easily he’d made me cum so hard it hurt.

  Sex wasn’t supposed to consume someone.

  But Gage was munching on my soul, one orgasm at a time.

  Dramatic, much?

  I sighed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Gage’s soft, easy breathing.

  Yeah, but I hated mysteries and that’s all Gage was.

  Where’d he come from? Why me? Why did he seem familiar?

  The worst part was I knew he wouldn’t answer any of my questions so the mystery would remain, haunting me until I died.

  I thought he was older than me, maybe by five years, but I didn’t know for sure.

  Sometimes the look in his eyes seemed so much older.

  An old soul, as my mom would say.

  My body ached from being fucked so many times in a short time period but it was a delicious sort of ache, one that created heat with the memory.

  There was something intoxicating about the insatiable expression in Gage’s face when he looked at me. I’d never known true hunger until I saw it in Gage.

  Landon had never looked at me like that.

  No one had.

  It took my breath away and made my heart beat faster.

  To know that Gage wanted me and only me…I couldn’t explain how it affected me without blushing like an idiot because a modern woman like me…we aren’t supposed to feel like that, right?

  The way he commanded my pleasure, denying me the privilege of cumming until he granted me permission…God, why did that turn me on so deeply?

  But on the flip side, knowing I could reduce him to a moaning wall of flesh when he was deep inside me, the power flipped and I was the one in control.

  Sex with Landon had been, in comparison, dull.

  Vanilla — but not even the good kind like artisan vanilla bean — but rather, gas station vanilla ice cream that only tasted good when you were drunk and desperate for something sweet.

  In fact, I don’t remember cumming once with Landon in the two years we’d been together.

  Our sex life had been all about Landon.

  A wry giggle popped from my mouth when I thought of how devastated I’d been to find out Landon had cheated on me (and had been cheating since the moment we started dating). Now, I just felt kinda sorry for any of the women who thought they were getting something special when hooking up with that douchewad.

  Maybe Gage could give lessons.

  As if sensing I was thinking of him, Gage turned on his back, still sleeping, his arm thrown over his head, his mouth open slightly.

  Stop being so adorable, I wanted to tell him. Why did guys always look so cute when they were sleeping whereas women looked like they were drugged and then dragged behind a bus?

  I smiled to myself. Universal truth.

  A sigh escaped when I realized I was nowhere near sleep when I should be because I was exhausted.

  I thought of Miss Switch back at my apartment, glad I fed her before I left for work.

  Was Gage a dog or cat person? I guess it didn’t matter.

  I frowned and slowly rose from the bed, careful not to wake Gage.

  Padding quietly to the window, I climbed onto the window seat and pulled my knees to my chest as I stared up at the stars.

  What small town had shaped Gage? And why had he left? Was that the connection between us? We were both from small towns?

  Seemed kind of flimsy.

  Maybe the reason wasn’t complicated — he simply liked what he saw and went after it.

  Except the it was me.

  How many other women had he “purchased” for his pleasure? And why did the thought arouse a pinch of jealousy? Jesus, that was unhealthy.

  I’d never been anyone’s object of desire, I should be highly flattered instead of picking at the threads of his reasoning, right?

  But, like I said, I wasn’t the kind of person to just let things go. I probably would’ve made a great reporter, that is, if there were still jobs for journalists out there.

  Gage made a small noise in his sleep but I could tell he was lost deep in his dreams.

  It was wrong but at this point, did judgment really have a place?

  Nothing about this situation was appropriate.

  I slid from the window seat and went to the dresser where I saw Gage throw his wallet and phone.

  As expected, his phone was locked and I wasn’t even going to try and figure out the code but his wallet was pretty vulnerable to snooping.

  (I said, don’t judge me, okay?)

  I flipped open the billfold and did some general snooping. Credit cards, some cash, a few fancy business cards.

  On a whim, I plucked his driver’s license.

  I guess I wanted to see if his picture was as unflattering as most people’s.

  I wasn’t expecting what I found.

  11

  David Gage Donnelly.

  Gage’s picture stared back at me — and no, it wasn’t the least bit horrid, damn him — but that wasn’t the name he’d given me.

  He hadn’t wanted to give me his real name, which made perfect sense if he were truly planning to ditch me as soon as the novelty wore off.

  What a dick.

  Why did that bug me so bad?

  It was better this way, I tried to tell myself. No entanglements, he’d said. With a fake name, I wouldn’t have been able to find him on social media, not because he wasn’t a fan like he’d claimed but because Gage Rochester doesn’t fucking exist.

  And who picks a name like that? Pretentious as fuck, if you ask me.

  David Donnelly had a better ring to it, honestly.

  But he didn’t actually look like a David.

  Was I more incensed that he’d given me a fake name or that the fake name was just proof that I truly wasn’t anything special aside from what was between my thighs?

  He had truly just bought me for exactly what he’d said — a plaything.

  I guess he hadn’t lied.

  How sad was it that I sorta, wished he had?

  “What are you doing?”

  Gage’s voice at my back caused me to fumble his wallet like a third string quarterback, making it im
possible to hide what I’d been doing.

  So I didn’t hide.

  “Snooping through your wallet,” I answered boldly, daring to meet his gaze in the moonlight. “Nice to meet you David.”

  Gage bent to pick up his wallet and return it to the dresser. “Come back to bed,” he said as if my discovery meant nothing.

  I didn’t budge. I held my ground, though why I wasn’t sure. None of this really mattered, right? I was his plaything, not his partner. A fake name, a fake job, fake whatever didn’t matter as long as the money was real.

  A horrifying through ripped through my bruised ego. What if he hadn’t actually deposited the money? I assumed he had because he’d made a grand production out of it at the bar but I hadn’t had a chance to check my bank app to see if it truly had landed.

  “What else have you lied about?” I asked.

  He sighed in irritation. “Really? It’s three in the morning. Can’t this conversation wait until morning?”

  “Technically, it is morning.” I shrugged coldly. “So…what else have you lied about?”

  “What does it matter?” he countered, his tone matching mine. “I paid for your company, not your approval.”

  “Who is David Donnelly?” I asked, his gaze narrowing at my use of his true name. “Are you a con artist or something?”

  “Just because I didn’t share my true identity, doesn’t mean I’m conning you. You already saw half the money delivered. The other half will follow by the end of the day.” He paused, then with a small shake of his head, grabbed his phone. With a sharp swiping motion, he said, “There. The rest of the money is there. Now you can stop being an accusatory shrew over nothing.”

  I glared but I logged into my banking app. It took a moment but when the balance popped up, I tried not to swallow my tongue. I don’t think my bank balance had ever reflected that money all at once.

  “Satisfied?” Gage asked, his tone curt. When I nodded, he returned to the bed, conversation over, except to add, “Don’t call me David. I don’t answer to that name any longer” before turning on his side and shutting me out completely as I had suddenly turned invisible.

  “I’m not an accusatory shrew. I just don’t like being lied to,” I muttered, caught between wanting to shake him awake and climbing back into the bed and forgetting about it all because, like he said, it didn’t matter.

  But it did fucking matter!

  Answers would have to wait, though. Gage was already out, sleeping like a goddamn baby, not a care in the world, whereas I was twisting in on myself.

  I stomped to Gage and shook him hard. “Oh no, if I can’t sleep, you can’t either.” I didn’t care that I was breaking the rules between us. I needed answers and I wasn’t going to stop until I had them.

  Gage rubbed at his eyes with a frown as I stood over him, probably looking like a crazed bitch with an agenda but I didn’t care.

  To be honest, I think I cared too much and maybe that was driving me to be reckless but I didn’t have the time to question my actions — I’d already lit the fuse.

  Gage clicked the bedside lamp. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m tired and I want to get some sleep. I told you, we can talk later.”

  “And I said, no, I want to talk now. You might be accustomed to people bowing and scraping to meet your every need but fucccck thaaaat, buddy, I’m not that kind of girl. Hello, remember me? The feisty one? Yeah, still here.”

  Gage scooted to a sitting position, the blanket falling to the side, revealing a thick, muscled thigh. I purposefully dragged my gaze away. “Start talking,” I told him, folding my arms across my chest.

  “Or what?” he asked, a coldly amused smirk on his lips. “Sorry…but you don’t have any leverage. First rule of business, babe, know your opponent’s weakness.”

  “Do you get off manipulating people?” I said, frustrated that I wasn’t able to get to him the way he got to me. “How fucked up are you that you have to use people to get what you want?”

  “Pretty fucked up, I think that was already established when I paid to fuck you raw,” he said easily, not the least bit ashamed or bothered. God, that spoke volumes, didn’t it? “Let’s get down to brass tacks, Pet, so I can go back to sleep. What’s really pissing you off? So, I didn’t tell you my name? Why would I? I never promised you honesty, never promised anything aside from money, which I’ve paid as agreed. So what’s your problem? Have I not fucked you well enough?”

  My cheeks burned. Obviously, that wasn’t the problem. “I don’t like being lied to.”

  Gage yawned. “Yeah, well, I didn’t see the point in sharing my identity when I knew this little adventure would end by morning.”

  I tried not to wince when my ego took the hit but I was already bruised and Gage had just round-house kicked a tender spot.

  I blinked back tears, more mad at myself than him. “I want to go home,” I said hotly, wiping at my eyes. “I’m done with this game of yours.”

  “You’re not done until I say so,” he reminded me, springing from the bed faster than I could process in my state of mind. He pulled me into his arms and I immediately tried to push him away but his arms were like steel bands around me, saying, “You’re breaking the rules, baby girl.”

  “I don’t want to play anymore,” I cried, hating that I wanted more from this man than he was willing to offer but I doubly hated that I’d fallen so fast and hard for a complete stranger. “It’s not okay to fuck with people’s emotions and I’m not cut out for this type of bullshit. Go find yourself a real hooker who won’t ask questions or care.”

  “I didn’t want a hooker,” he said, sealing his mouth to mine. Why not, you made me into one, I wanted to shout but his tongue was sliding against mine, melting my argument as easily as my bones. “I wanted you.”

  Something about his tone struck a chord and I knew he hadn’t meant to reveal so much. As if needing to distract me from his admission, his touch became more urgent as he swept me off my feet, carrying me back to bed.

  I wanted to protest, to hold my ground, but I couldn’t. Gage’s mouth was already traveling down my belly, nipping at the sensitive skin until he settled between my thighs, tasting and feasting until I was shaking and moaning, ready to break apart.

  But he stopped short of me cumming. “Not yet, baby,” he said, flipping me over to my belly and pulling my hips toward him. My eyes squeezed shut as he pushed himself deep inside me, his cock filling me so completely in this position. I groaned as he gripped my hips, each thrust gaining in savagery as he fucked me.

  “You’re mine,” he bit out, his voice a strained growl. I clutched at the bedding, the only sound able to escape my parted lips was a breathy cry as my thwarted orgasm began to build again. “Jesus, Mari,” he groaned before losing control, his hips flexing spastically as he poured himself into me. I followed a heartbeat later, shattering into tiny pieces, sobbing into the bedding as my body pulsed with each wave of pleasure.

  This time when Gage rolled over and pulled me with him, tucking me into his arms, I went without protest. I told myself I was too weak but that wasn’t the truth.

  Lord help me, in his arms felt like home.

  12

  We woke to hazy sunshine filtering in through dusty windows and for a moment, I forgot about my discovery and how cold Gage had been.

  I stretched, my muscles reminding me quickly how busy we’d been, and I smiled sleepily before I could stop myself.

  “I could spend the rest of my life waking up to that smile.”

  The murmured admission startled me, especially given how things had ended only hours ago. I turned to find Gage watching me with something akin to yearning.

  I didn’t respond — I didn’t know what to say — but Gage didn’t give me a chance. Instead, he climbed from the bed and strode naked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  Listening to him pee was strangely more intimate than all the sexual acts we’d done in the last twenty-four hours. A smile found my lips
at the odd thought.

  Unbidden, a memory jumped out at me. I’d gone to a school with a Donnelly. I wondered if it was a common name. Although, I didn’t remember much more about the kid aside from the name.

  When Gage returned, I followed his lead. I didn’t want to pick a fight this morning. There was something about Gage’s murmured admission that kept coming back to me. His admission had been real — a glimpse into the true Gage, the person he didn’t want anyone to know.

  How could I get him to open up to me when he was so determined to push me away?

  But maybe the bigger question was, did I want him to open up? Was I willing to be his ride or die? We didn’t even know each other. Was I willing to throw back the curtain and see who was pulling the strings?

  I was scared of the implication, the responsibility. Clearly, the guy had issues, right? I had my own baggage. Did I want to take on his, too?

  But even as I questioned myself, I knew the answer — yes.

  The simplicity shocked me.

  Everything was out of whack, why not my own feelings?

  Gage pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and inquired, “Coffee?” before he headed for the kitchen. I slipped on his t-shirt and padded after him.

  He made a quick pot of coffee and I was grateful for a cup. We sipped our coffee in silence, my guess, we were both processing.

  I braved the threat of his abrupt silence to ask, “Why did you say that to me?”

  His mouth firmed as he held his mug to his lips, hesitating. He lowered his mug to answer with the shake of his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Did you mean it?”

  The long pause sent a knife through my heart but he surprised me with a nod. “Fuck, Mari. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  I lowered my mug. “What’s happening between us, Gage?” I asked. “I know you feel something, too.”

  He seemed frustrated with my observation, shaking his head. “Don’t do this,” he warned.