by Maisey Yates
“Would you like something to drink?”
She laughed. “Not yet. We have unfinished business.” She looked at him, at his gaping shirt that was still tucked into his slacks. “I like the look,” she said.
“I was attacked by a shameless hussy in an elevator,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the hallway.
He had pictures on his wall. School pictures of Maddy. Her high school and graduation pictures. It hit her again what a wonderful man he was, the things that he chose to hide. Part of her wanted to find out everything, but so much of her wanted to ignore everything she already knew, and didn’t want to find out any more. This was about sexual satisfaction, a slight extension on their fling’s deadline. This wasn’t about finding out what an incredible person he was.
His bedroom was a definite man cave. A large bed, wall-mounted TV and very little else. Not the den of seduction she’d always imagined. She’d sort of thought he might be the type to have a Jacuzzi tub and a stripper pole in the middle of his bedroom. She was relieved to see she’d been wrong. Not that it should matter.
He shrugged his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor, his slacks and underwear following. She reached around to grab the zipper tab on her dress.
“Wait a second,” he said, coming toward her. “Let me.”
He turned her around gently so that she was facing away from him, his hands possessive on her hips. She leaned back against him, reveling in his heat, his strength. In him.
He slid his hands up beneath her dress and gripped her panties, dragging them down her legs. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside, trying to make sure they didn’t get caught on her heels.
He moved his hands to her waist, slid them over her hips, back up to her breasts, not really touching, not the way she wanted. It was as though he was tracing her curves, memorizing her shape.
Then he slowly pulled the zipper down and she let her dress fall to the floor. A masculine groan of appreciation rumbled in his chest. “You’re gorgeous,” he groaned. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ll never get enough of looking at you.”
Her heart thundered, her body quivering with desire. “Gage,” she choked out.
“Get on the bed,” he said, his voice rough, commanding, thrilling.
She complied, trying to turn and face him.
“No,” he said, moving behind her and taking one of the pillows from the head of the bed, then another, stacking them and moving her over them so that her upper body had some support.
Her blood rushed through her veins, hotter, faster. She knew what he was going to do, and it thrilled her, excited her and frightened her, all at the same time.
“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”
She could only nod, the lump in her throat too much for her to speak past. But she did trust him. In this moment she did. She was giving him more than she’d ever given to anyone else, and as much as it scared her, it also felt as necessary as breathing.
She heard him tearing a condom packet, protecting them both, as he always did. She was grateful for that. She knew a lot of men didn’t care enough to do that, but Gage never acted as though it was a sacrifice, as though it should be up to her.
She felt the blunt head of his erection probing her slick entrance.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she managed to choke out.
He thrust inside of her, deep, deeper than she’d ever felt him before. She curled her fingers around the bedspread, trying to hold back the hoarse cry of pleasure that was climbing her throat.
He held her hips tightly, his movements strong and sure, nothing tentative about his claiming of her body. Because that was what it felt like. It was more elemental than their other times together, and in a lot of ways, she had less control. She was at his mercy, and yet she couldn’t be afraid of him, and he wasn’t harming her, he was only giving to her. Giving her pleasure while he took his own. While they shared in it.
He reached around and stroked the source of her desire. Already she could feel another orgasm building, this one stronger, more intense. She whimpered, and clenched the comforter tighter, the tension too much for her to bear because she knew when it broke she would shatter with it.
She felt his muscles start to shake, felt his fingers dig into her hips. He was close, too.
“Lily,” he said, as he went over the edge.
His fingers worked her faster and she followed him, her body tightening around him as he pulsed inside of her. Their orgasm went on and on, blended together until she was sure they were feeling the same thing. Until it almost felt as though they were one body.
And when it was over, he turned her and took her in his arms so that she was facing him, so that he could brush her hair out of her face, his other hand continually sliding over her curves.
“Did you like that?” he asked. There was no arrogance in his voice. He didn’t behave as though he already knew the answer, he wanted to know. And that made her heart squeeze tightly in her chest. Gage wasn’t the kind of man who questioned himself, and that he would do it for her … it was impossible to feel nothing.
“Very much. It was incredible.”
He circled her waist with his arms, bringing her closer, and she curved her leg over his thigh. They just lay there for a moment, catching their breath, letting their heart rates return to normal.
“This isn’t the way I pictured your bedroom,” she said finally.
“Really? What did you picture?”
“Stripper pole.”
He laughed and kissed her hair. “Sorry to disappoint. For you, I would have one installed, trust me. The possibilities are fascinating.”
She smiled against his shoulder. Surprisingly, the idea of putting herself on display for him like that didn’t horrify her in the least. How could it when they’d shared so much?
“I don’t bring women here,” he said.
“Could have fooled me.”
“You’re actually the first woman I’ve had here since Maddy came to live with me. I got used to conducting my affairs away from my home. I don’t even have them in my own hotels.”
“Why is that?”
His body tensed slightly. “Probably for the same reason we both live alone.”
“Then why … why did you bring me here?”
He shrugged. “You’re different. I know you. I was feeling very impatient.”
Her stomach tightened. His words thrilled her and scared her. She was different. He knew her. He had brought her back to his apartment, a place he didn’t bring other women.
She wasn’t supposed to be different. She was supposed to be another in a long string of purely physical affairs, a woman he wouldn’t want anything from. And she was supposed to feel the same way about him. He wasn’t supposed to matter.
Of course she liked him, but there couldn’t be anything beyond that.
She should get up. Get dressed and go home. He would probably expect it. He should expect it. It was different when they were both staying in Thailand. But here in San Diego they both had their own houses, their own space.
But he was still cradling her against his chest, and for some reason, even though he was the source of her fear, he was also a source of comfort. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. Nothing had changed. It was just a part of their fling. It couldn’t be anything more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I THOUGHT you could use some.” Gage held a mug of coffee out to Lily and she sat up straighter in the bed, letting the covers fall around her waist.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it and inhaling the heavenly scent. She was such an addict, but at least he understood. Understood and shared in it.
It was an interesting reversal of their morning routine. And an interesting setting for it. She’d always thought there was an undercurrent of domesticity in their office routine, but this took it to a whole new level.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his own m
ug in hand, dressed only in a pair of jeans, his chest still bare. There were certain aspects of this that were a definite improvement to their office mornings.
“What are your plans for the day?” she asked, a little embarrassed once the question had escaped. Was it really any of her business what he was doing? It wasn’t a workday and they didn’t have a real relationship.
“Nothing. A total rarity. Usually I try to visit Maddy on Sunday, but she’s still in Switzerland, and having a lot of fun. She says she’s been totally untouched by the scandal there.”
“That’s great, Gage.” She could see the relief on his face and it made her feel the same feeling, swelling inside of her. She knew how much he loved Maddy, knew even more now. She felt as though she could feel his emotions sometimes, as though her own matched his.
Gage was enjoying Lily’s newfound boldness in bed. Even now she was sitting up with her breasts bare, acting as though she hardly noticed. He noticed. She was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen naked. And he’d seen his share.
Usually, after a few encounters, the mystery had worn off and he wasn’t as captivated by his lover’s beauty. Or, as was the case when plastic surgery was involved, sometimes a woman actually looked better in her clothes than out of them.
But not Lily. She fascinated him. Clothed or naked, dressed up, or in a bikini.
He kept waiting to regret bringing her back to his apartment, letting her into his personal space. But it hadn’t hit him yet. It felt better, having her here than it would have felt taking her to an anonymous hotel and having sex with her on a bed that was there almost solely for that purpose.
It had never bothered him before. That was how he’d always conducted his affairs. If it weren’t for those years raising his sister, his room may very well have ended up with a stripper pole in it. But he had raised his sister, and that had changed things. It had likely changed some things for the better.
He didn’t know what was happening with Lily. Didn’t want to know why it felt right to have her in his home, when he had never wanted to bring another woman here before. Didn’t want to know what it meant that he couldn’t imagine ever tiring of her.
Last night had been the hottest night of his life, hands down. The only other experiences that came close were the other times he’d been with Lily. She wiped memories of other women from his mind. He couldn’t even remember what appeal those other women had ever held. They were too blonde, too tanned, too thin, too surgically enhanced. There was nothing genuine about them.
They weren’t like Lily. Lily, who was soft and beautiful, who didn’t cling to him. Lily, who he gladly held all night long, when he’d never wanted to do that with any other woman.
“I need to go home,” she said suddenly.
His first thought was that he didn’t want her to leave. And he’d definitely never felt that way about a woman before. He hated to admit that that first reaction, the desire to hold her to him, keep her with him, scared him.
There was no point in caring. No point in wanting.
“Why?”
“I don’t have any clothes. I only have that dress.” She gestured to the black fabric pooled at the foot of his bed. “And when I leave, everyone’s going to know what was going on. No one wears a dress like that on Sunday morning.”
“My simple solution is that you could forgo clothes altogether.”
“No.”
“I’ll drive you back to your place. Is there anything else you need?” he asked.
“I usually work out today.”
He wasn’t surprised to know that she worked on her body. She took a lot of care with her appearance, not to the point of obsession, but just enough that she projected a very polished image. That was one thing that made ruffling her so much fun.
And if he could just focus on the fun and ignore all of the other things, their affair could continue for as long as they both wanted.
“I’ll go with you. I work out on Sundays, too.”
She nodded slowly, but he could tell she wasn’t thrilled with the idea. She was extremely cagey and very closed off with her emotions, something he normally wouldn’t notice or care about, but for some reason, with her, he cared.
When they were in bed together, or on the beach, her walls started to come down, and he reveled in those moments. He shouldn’t. There was nowhere for their relationship to go. Even if he wanted love and marriage, she was the wrong woman. What could they bring to a marriage? A mutual obsession with their own businesses, their own lives? And if he didn’t have his business, what other attraction could he possibly offer?
In business, they were well-suited, in bed, they were incredible. But that was all it would ever be. That was all it could ever be.
“Remind me never to work out with you again,” Lily said, rubbing her shoulders as she settled into Gage’s low-slung sports car.
“Too much for you?”
She groaned and leaned her head back against the seat. “Normally, I don’t like to admit defeat, but in this case, I’ll concede.”
“Are you hungry?” Gage asked, maneuvering the car into traffic.
“Very.”
“Do you want to go out?”
She grimaced. After a workout that intense, she wasn’t fit to be out in public. “I can cook for you. My condo is close.”
Gage hesitated for a moment before changing lanes and heading in the direction of her home. She didn’t know what she was doing, why she was inviting him to come home with her. Because she was certain that he would end up staying. That they would end up in bed together, and she was sure that was the wrong thing to do. She should have told him to drop her off at home, should have tried to start putting distance between them.
But she hadn’t. And even now that she recognized what she should do, she wasn’t going to do it. She wanted to be with him. Maybe she should stop analyzing everything and just be with him.
“It’s a two-car garage,” she said when he pulled into the lot of her condo. “Just stop here for a second.”
She got out of the car and keyed in the code for the garage and the door opened. She got back into the car while Gage drove it inside, parking next to her little commuter vehicle. For a moment, it seemed shockingly comfortable, to have his car parked next to hers, almost like they shared the space.
She shook her head and got back out of the car and moved to unlock her side entrance. Gage followed her in. She had always been proud of her house, and had hosted a few dinner parties for her friends when she’d had the time, not since she’d started working for Gage. It wasn’t as luxurious as his house, but it was hers.
“You have a view of the ocean from here?” he asked.
“From the bedroom.”
“I’ll have to take a look,” he said, giving her a wicked grin.
“Later,” she said, “but now I’m hungry.”
“Later,” he said, hooking his arm around her waist and bringing her in for a kiss. He hadn’t kissed her at all today. They’d spent the day together but he hadn’t touched her, hadn’t acted like there was anything between them. She was surprised by how much she’d missed it.
“Definitely.” She moved away from him and went into the kitchen and started rifling through the produce drawers in her fridge. “Stir-fry?” she asked.
“I didn’t imagine that you would cook.”
“I have to eat.”
“My mother didn’t cook.”
Lily laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Neither did mine.” She put a head of cabbage on her cutting board and began to slice it. “I learned when I moved out here. Otherwise I existed on frozen pizza and whatever my friends’ parents fed me when they felt sorry for me.”
“Do you have any family here?”
“No. I left home at seventeen. My main requirement was that none of my family be where I went,” she said, hearing the bitterness edge into her voice.
“And you wanted to be near the ocean,” he said.
“Yes. I d
id.”
“Did the men your mother dated hurt you? Is that why you avoided relationships?”
She took a breath and tossed the sliced cabbage into the wok on the stove. “They didn’t hurt me in the way that you mean. But my mother was so dependent on them, and most of them were terrible. She let them control everything she did, and by extension, everything I did. We always lived in these tiny little houses with no privacy. I could always hear them fighting, or making up. I’m not sure which was worse.”
She put the rest of the vegetables and some precooked chicken into the wok and pushed them around vigorously with a spatula for a few minutes before turning the burner off.
“Not all relationships are like that,” he said.
“Not all of them are like your parents', either.”
He didn’t say anything to that. Conversation turned back to business, and she was thankful for that.
She served their dinner in the dining room and Gage sat in the chair next to her, instead of sitting across from her, his hand on her thigh, stroking her absently. It was very domestic, the two of them eating a dinner she’d cooked. It certainly didn’t fit in to the parameters of an affair.
Neither did sharing the gory details about a dysfunctional childhood. But Gage had always made her want to open up. It had always been easy for her to say too much to him.
They ended up watching a movie in the living room before heading to her bedroom and making love. It was amazing, like it always was, and, like always, she felt a little piece of the wall around her heart crumble when she came apart in his arms.
And when he gathered her against him she felt tears trailing down her cheeks again, all of the emotion rising up inside of her again, needing a way to escape.
She didn’t know what it was that made her feel this way. Not for sure. She had a suspicion, but she hoped, more than anything, that she was wrong.
* * *
They drove to the office together the next day, despite her protests. She also conceded to packing an overnight back, just in case. She shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t have left it open. She should be ending it. They’d had an agreement and they weren’t sticking to it.
