by Lana Lachlan
“I need to please you, Gage.”
He leaned down to nudge her ear with his lips. “Shhh.”
Endlessly he played with her body so that the anticipation became a sweet punishment in itself. His fingers moved up the inside of her legs and plucked at her landing strip, teasing her clit before moving on to fresh nerve endings. Anna was ready to explode when he rolled onto her, gathered her bottom up in his big hands and rested his cock on her mound. Anna had a feeling his play was merely the calm before the storm.
“And now, my girl, I’m going to fuck you.”
God, she couldn’t wait for him to be inside her, to chase those heady contractions again. Lifting her legs, she locked her heels around his waist and arched her hips. “Please hurry.”
He half-laughed, but it became a groan as Anna grabbed his penis to tug it toward her pussy. Sliding his hands free of her butt, he pushed up on straight arms to tower over her, watching her guide the broad blunt head of him through her pussy lips. He hissed—shuddered, focused on where they were joined.
“Do it hard like you did in the shower, Gage.”
And he did. Like a man unleashed, he jackhammered her body. Anna lost her hold on his waist, bouncing up and down with her legs flung wide and the air whooshed from her lungs in frantic bursts. She didn’t need to chase her orgasm because it came in a savage explosion at the moment Gage abruptly stilled and released. Anna milked him with her contractions and when the rush had ebbed and they were done, Gage took her in his arms and held her tightly.
“Anna… Anna.”
The caress in his voice took her to his eyes and she saw tenderness. And in that amazing flare of recognition, when everything faded and there was only her and Gage left in the world, she knew everything had changed. They now had the connection of lovers and it terrified her. Where did she… they go from here?
As though he knew her thoughts, he rolled from the bed to drag on his pants and slip on his shirt. Anna watched him in dread, knowing that in a minute he would be gone and if, by some remote chance, she ever saw him again, it would be as Anna Frankland.
He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. “I’m going to pick you up tomorrow morning at nine. Be dressed for a motorcycle ride.”
Anna blinked in surprise. “Why?”
“Because I want you to see something,” he said with a mysterious look. “I’ll have you back by late afternoon.”
“But…”
He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “No arguments, girl.”
Before she could question him further he strode out of her bedroom. Seconds later, she heard the soft click of the front door closing.
The fantasy hadn’t ended. Yet.
Chapter 7
Gage arrived at her building to find her standing on the sidewalk, ponytailed and wearing jeans, ankle boots and a brown leather jacket. She might have looked like any woman going for a motorcycle ride if it weren’t for all the makeup, diamond earrings and her little purse in her hands.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he stowed her purse in a saddlebag.
“Carter’s Bay.”
“I’ve been there,” she said, peering up at him as though he’d made a mistake. “It’s an arts and crafts village with loads of weekend visitors. Why go there?”
“You’ll see.”
Gage fitted the spare helmet over her ponytail and waited in amusement while she carefully tucked her long hair under her jacket collar, checked that she’d buttoned herself to the neck and brushed the dust off the pillion seat. “It’s around a three-hour ride,” he said swinging a leg over the bike. “So if you need a bathroom break or want to stretch your legs, tap on my helmet.”
She got in behind him. “Okay.”
Two days out from her wedding? God, he must be mad. After leaving her last night, he’d debated the wisdom of going ahead with this, knowing he’d already spent too much time brooding over Anna Cabot. But he’d also stopped pretending to himself that she and her marriage didn’t matter when the reality was, he cared about the princess. He didn’t dare think ‘relationship’ with the girl being an heiress, but he couldn’t stand by and let her accept a future she didn’t want.
For the entire ride to Carter’s Bay, she rested her face between his shoulder blades. It felt good to have her on the back of his bike, snuggled up and doing her best to lean into the corners. They arrived in town shortly after noon and he drove straight to the bar, parked and retrieving her purse for her, escorted her up the old wooden steps. Landings Bar and Grill had a nautical theme that probably hadn’t changed since the day it opened in the eighties. Fishing nets were strung from the ceiling, an enormous seashell-framed mirror hung behind the bar and various taxidermied game fish had been nailed to every wall.
Walking her ahead of him to a table at the back of the bar and near an open window, Gage noticed the patrons—all five of them—were focused on him and Anna, particularly Anna who, despite a three hour bike ride, still looked like something out of a magazine. To the patrons, they would make a strange couple, distinctly oil and water although with his hulking tattooed frame, it could be more a case of beauty and the beast.
After getting her settled at the table, Gage ordered two light beers and two fried fish meals from the bar and took a chair opposite her. She’d removed her jacket and looked damned terrific in a white shirt tucked into her blue jeans. The diamond earrings sparkled in the sunlight and she’d retied her ponytail, letting it hang in a glossy band over one shoulder.
Gage shrugged off his jacket, slung it over a spare chair. “Well, what do you think of the place, Ms. Cabot?”
She looked at the fishing nets, at the dead fish, at the patrons, then at him. “It’s a dump.”
“Don’t pussyfoot around, girl. Give it to me straight. What do you think?”
She giggled, propped her elbows on the table to grin at him. “I think it needs a lot of work.”
Gage matched her grin. “You’re right, it does, but does it have potential?”
Her head went to one side while she thought. “I don’t know. It’s… well, it’s…”
“A dump?”
At her small nod, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “A dump with potential though?”
She laughed. “I guess.”
On his first visit, Gage had spent several hours checking out its potential and had satisfied himself that he could make a go of the place. With ten thousand residents and only two bars to service them and the town’s visitors, there was room to grow both the business and his lifestyle. Good beaches, plenty of open spaces and it had a small boxing and fitness gym to keep his hand in.
Her phone pinged from her little purse.
“Everything okay?” he asked as she checked the display.
She shoved her phone back in her purse and he had his answer.
“Julian’s meeting dragged on and he’s missed his flight,” she said, looking down at her hands. “He’ll be home tomorrow.”
Gage’s anger stirred. If he ever got the chance to meet Frankland the third, he just might have to deal with the prick for disappointing the princess.
The beers arrived, delivered by the bartender/ waiter. “I’m Ted,” he announced, belching as he plonked the drinks in the middle of the table. “Fish’ll be along in a minute. Comes with fries and bread. My wife’s the chef.”
Anna stared at the guy as though he’d dropped in from Mars. “I’d prefer a green side salad to fries.”
“My wife don’t do that fancy shit,” came the terse reply. He shook his head as he strolled away.
“No wonder he’s got no customers,” she sniffed, her green eyes sweeping the room before looking at Gage accusingly, like it was his fault. “And he’s rude. Did you hear him belch?”
“I did.” He took his first sip of the cold brew. “Try the beer. It’s good.”
She looked at it apprehensively. “I’d rather have white wine.”
Gage nudged the glass toward her.
“I don’t want you falling off the bike so this is all you get.”
She took a cautious sip, leaving a row of foam on her top lip. “It’s quite nice.”
Gage tapped his lip and when she quickly brushed the foam away, he chuckled. “The thing is, princess, I brought you here to run an idea past you.”
Her gaze swept the bar again before lifting her beer to take another delicate sip. “Okay.”
Gage didn’t waste time getting to the point. “Bullock’s fight is next week. After that, I’m thinking of buying this place. I’ve put in an offer.”
One glance at her shocked expression told him she thought he’d gone mad. “But you’re a boxer!”
Apparently, a boxer couldn’t own a bar. “Technically, I’m no longer a fighter but you’re right, it’s a wild idea. I want to know what you think of it.”
“It’s…”
That’s all she got out before the bartender slapped their meals on the table along with a bowl of lemon wedges. He belched, rubbed his stomach. “You want ketchup?” he asked, his eyes searching Anna’s dumbfounded face for an answer. “My wife makes it. Puts in the hot stuff. Take the skin off your tongue if you’re not careful.”
At least the princess managed to stutter a response. “N-no thank you.”
“Holler if you need anything.”
The bartender strode back to his bar, leaving Anna staring after him, mouth agape.
“So, any thoughts on my idea?” Gage asked with a laugh.
Only when the bartender was safely back at his station did she answer. “I think it’s fine.”
Gage rubbed his hands together, genuinely pleased to have her approval. “Great. The owner has moved to Florida so I’ve put in an offer on his cottage as well.”
“Really?” After squeezing lemon juice over her meal and looking around for a non-existent napkin, she forked a tiny piece of fish into her mouth. “A cottage sounds nice.”
He wasn’t getting much in the way of feedback, but he knew she’d be thinking hard about why he’d brought her here. He tried his meal. Pretty damned good. “Sure is. The cottage is right on the beach.”
She put her fork down, looking more serious than usual. “What’s the point of this?”
Gage sipped his beer, pinning her gaze to his over the rim of the glass. “For you to get your head on straight.”
“My head’s fine how it is.”
Gage wasn’t having her nonsense today. “You’ve been bellyaching about having to marry him so it’s time you did something about it. I’ve shown you my future. What are you going to do about yours?”
Before he’d even put his beer down, she’d shot him one of her looks. “My marriage has nothing to do with you.”
Except it did and they both knew it. If he’d never taken her to his loft, never spanked her ass, never touched her, period, she’d be up to her neck in wedding preparations, not sitting here arguing with a club bouncer.
“You have to take what you want in life, Anna, although right now, I doubt you know what you want. But one thing I can tell you is cheating on him isn’t the answer.”
Hard truths were hard to take and, coming from the man she saw as her dominant, this truth would cut like a blade. But as he’d anticipated, she went into full princess mode, chin up, eyes blazing. “I won’t be cheating on him so don’t lecture me.”
Gage had never considered himself a particularly moral man but when it came to sex, he liked to think he was a decent enough guy. Any woman he bedded knew from the outset that he didn’t do exclusivity. Nor had he ever lied to a woman to get her between the sheets. In that respect, he was a gentleman and he had no intention of allowing Anna—the one person he cared about more than anyone else—to lie to him or herself.
“Girl, one way or another, you’ll carry on cheating. If you’re not physically cheating, you’ll be cheating on him in your head. You need discipline like you need air to breathe. If you were my woman, I’d want to know the truth.”
He saw her bottom lip tremble, her head drop. “Would you ever want me as your woman?”
Gage dodged the truth. “This isn’t about me, Anna. You talked about being free but you’re too chickenshit to go for it.”
At first, she gave no sign she’d even heard him before slowly raising her head, her defiance giving way to an anguish that made his breath catch in his throat. He’d seen her vulnerable, but never this fragile, as if a strong wind could break her in half.
He thought about his parents. “Anna, a bad marriage will eat you alive.”
Her eyes held his briefly before sliding away. “I’m going to marry Julian. He’s a good man and I intend to be a good wife to him.”
Gage rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Denial is a bitch, girl.”
“I don’t care.”
He didn’t buy it and he wanted to lean over the table and kiss her pain away. Their chemistry was stronger than ever, so much so, that he could rent a room here in Carter’s Bay and she’d fall into his arms. The girl needed spanking, needed loving, needed him to take charge of her. Except what would it achieve other than add more grief to her screwed-up life?
“Eat,” he ordered gruffly, starting on his fish. “I’ll show you around the town before we head back.”
She went silent on him for the rest of the meal and after he’d paid up, he took her for a stroll down the town’s main street. Every third store seemed to be arts and crafts and noticing Anna’s obvious interest, he urged her to take a look. While he waited outside, she dived into a store, emerging five minutes later with a bag of stuffed toys. For the flower girls, she explained, shoving the bag in his arms before disappearing through another doorway two stores down. Gage hadn’t planned on spending the afternoon being a packhorse, but it had her smiling and he had to admit he liked the feeling of being one half of a couple.
She emerged with another parcel and by the time they were at the end of main, he had his arms full and Anna had bought ice creams—chocolate for her and, ironically, vanilla for him. They sat at a picnic table on the edge of the beach, not too far from his cottage. He could see its shingle roof, the vine covered porch and the steps leading down to the sand. In a matter of weeks, it would be his new home.
“I think I might buy a boat,” he mused, already planning his spare time. “Something small for fishing in the bay.”
“Sounds nice.” She caught a drop of chocolate before it found her white shirt. “It’s wonderful here, Gage. I wish…”
She trailed off, turned her face to the ocean.
Gage didn’t disturb her thoughts. The princess had her future to think about and he was pretty sure, she would make the right decision.
Chapter 8
“I knew this would happen, Annaliesa. You never showed enough interest in him.”
Anna felt like a teenager being admonished for neglecting her homework. Facing Grandmama over her broken engagement had put the old woman into a frenzy of recriminations. Beatrice was not only furious, she blamed Anna for sending Julian back to Europe.
“I can’t begin to imagine what that poor man is going through,” Beatrice continued. “I don’t blame him for leaving. What a mortifying situation for a man in his position.”
Anna sipped her tea before setting it down on Beatrice’s Italian marble coffee table. She had never liked her grandmother’s sitting room with its gold braided sofas and delicate china ornaments carefully arranged on every surface in the room. The walls were covered with paintings of sour-faced Cabots dating back two hundred years. Apparently, they didn’t approve of her decision either.
“It’s for the best, Grandmama.”
Her grandmother’s left brow rose to an elegant arch. “Ruining a wedding is hardly for the best, Annaliesa. It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is.”
When Anna told Julian she couldn’t marry him, he’d been his usual well-organized self about the whole thing. He’d sat down on his sofa, chewed the inside of his cheek and regarded her like she was a business probl
em to be solved. They made a good team, he’d said, so they could iron out any problems. If she wanted the wedding delayed for a few weeks, he would agree to that. When she’d refused his offer, he’d suggested they spend more time together, perhaps she could accompany him on his trips. Anna had told him firmly it wouldn’t make any difference. She was fond of him, but she didn’t love him and one day he would know what she meant. After that, he’d given up trying to change her mind.
“You should’ve come to me first, Annaliesa,” Beatrice scolded. “We could have discussed this without getting Julian involved. In three days you would’ve been safely married.”
Anna was close to screaming at her grandmother. “You mean married off, don’t you? You want me married off for money. I don’t love him. I thought I did when I accepted his proposal but now I realize it wasn’t real.”
“Is there someone else, Annaliesa?”
The question caught Anna off guard. Flushing, she hid her face by looking out the window. “Of course not, Grandmama.”
She heard her grandmother sigh. “You’ve been acting strangely for weeks. I assumed it was the wedding preparations and Lord knows, I’ve tried to make it easier for you. But of course, you won’t confide in me so I have wondered if there is someone else? Some unsuitable hippie from your art gallery perhaps?”
It was Anna’s turn to sigh. “Hippies went out years ago, Grandmama. And no, there’s no one because,” Anna dropped her voice to a whisper, “he has no room in his life for princesses.”
“What did you say, Annaliesa?”
Anna turned toward Beatrice’s stern face. “Nothing, Grandmama. There’s no one.”
“At least we can be thankful for that. Until this has all blown over, you mustn’t be seen in public with any man or the papers will assume you’ve been having an affair.”
