The idea fizzled out as quickly as it had bloomed. “Maybe he broke me.”
“Well, we’re about to find out for certain,” Jeannine said. “Incoming.”
I barely had a second to turn around before the blond man stood behind me, so close I could smell his overpowering aftershave. It singed my nose worse than the vodka I currently drank.
“Hey there,” he said and I giggled. Not that he’d said something funny, but it was the way he’d said it, like something out of a cheesy chick-flick—all deep toned and throaty.
“Hello yourself.” I rose my glass toward the bartender, motioning for another one.
“Put that on my tab,” he said when the woman came back with my drink.
“No, that’s all right.” I shook my head. “Keep it on mine please.” I looked at the man, who had a surprisingly nice shade of brown eyes. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m good.”
Jeannine scoffed next to me but tried to hide it behind her scotch. I glared at her.
“No worries. I’m Chad.” He held his hand out to shake.
I took it. “Bailey.”
“Beautiful name,” he said, leaning even closer to me if that was possible. I could feel the heat from his body brushing up against my crossed legs, and I pushed my back against the bar a little harder.
Personal bubble much?
“This is my friend Jeannine,” I said. “We’re having a girl’s night.” I was flattered that he wanted to buy me a drink, I just wasn’t interested in what he had to offer. It wasn’t his fault, it was Gage’s. He had ruined me, it seemed, to even appreciating another decent looking man’s attention.
Jeannine wrapped her arm around me and winked at him. “Sorry, honey. She’s all mine tonight.”
He nodded, but didn’t move, and the near non-existent space was making it hard to breathe.
“Well, I’ve come here every weekend for the past two months, and you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” He reached over me to set his beer down on the bar, the motion forcing his chest to graze mine, and I jolted on the barstool. “You should break the girl’s night rules and dance with me.” He looked down at me, his chin practically touching my forehead.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I held myself back from physically pushing him away.
Jeannine stood up then, her hand in mine, readying to drag me to the dancefloor or the bathroom or anywhere but here.
Someone beat her to it. One second the stench of too many beers clogged my airways, and the next second Chad was jerked firmly backward.
The breath of relief I took from regaining my personal space was extremely short lived.
Gage’s blue eyes were slits as he towered over Chad. “Find someone else to bother,” he said, his voice bordering on a growl.
Chad raised his hands in defense, looking from me to Gage. “She didn’t say she was taken, man. Relax.”
A muscle in Gage’s jaw ticked. The same muscle that always ticked right before he lost his shit. The same look Letti made when she couldn’t put a puzzle together properly, or when she absolutely didn’t want to go to bed.
“She would have.” Gage shot me a glare over his shoulder. “If you’d given her a breath of space. Now, go.” There was no room for debate, Gage’s tone was an order only an idiot would refuse.
And it looked like Chad really wanted to be an idiot.
He straightened his shoulders, not budging. “You’ve got an attitude problem, man. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“He’s a Shark,” Jeannine said, the giggle in her voice shocking me. Could she not tell a fight worthy of the ice was about to break out? Oh wait, of course she could. And it excited her. I shook my head. The only thing keeping the anger at Gage making a claim on me that he had no right to, was the fear for this poor guy who had no idea who he was messing with.
“No shit?” Chad had the audacity to look impressed.
Warren and Rory came down the stairs from the VIP level, flanking Gage’s right and left. The trio together, all clad in suit shirts with the sleeves rolled up, leaving nothing to the imagination about their ripped muscles beneath, were something to freaking marvel at. Even Jeannine noticed it. She shifted her weight next to me as she openly ogled Warren. I sympathized with her, my mouth watering, my body unable to deny how badly it wanted Gage—despite also wanting to punch him for being so stubborn.
“Why are you still here?” Gage asked, his hands in fists. Having his boys at his side only amped the tension up to the nth degree, and I’d seen it escalate too many times before. I glanced around, searching for the paparazzi who would have his finger on his camera, ready to snap away a new meal ticket. The Shark’s bad boys were a feeding frenzy for the paper’s gossip section.
I didn’t want that. And after the incident in the player’s lot earlier, I damn well knew Gage didn’t either.
I took the few steps separating us and intertwined our fingers. The contact sent a surge of electric heat up my arm and straight into my core. He broke his stare with Chad, finally letting me see those gorgeous blue eyes of his.
“Dance with me,” I said. His muscles were locked and I reached up with my free hand, smoothing it over his chest. “I’m not asking.”
He licked his lips, the tension releasing as he turned toward the dance floor, giving Rory and Warren a nod as we went. I heard Jeannine whistle behind us.
The music thumped in a slow, sultry beat and I moved in synch with it once Gage had picked a clear spot on the floor. I rolled my hips, throwing an arm around his neck, but keeping enough distance so our bodies didn’t touch.
“So you’ll claim me the minute someone else is interested but if we’re at home—”
Gage’s lips cut off my words and I instantly forgot whatever I’d been saying. Hot damn this man’s tongue. It parted my lips and trailed the edges of my teeth. He tugged gently on my hair, angling my head so he could kiss me deeper, each flick of his tongue fueling the pulsing heat between my thighs. His free hand clutched the small of my back and he brought our bodies flush, all my soft curves hitting the delicious hard edges of him.
I gasped, kissing him back, harder than I had before, pouring all my anger, doubt, and need into it. Pulling back, he held my gaze, and slipped his hand down my neck, along the skin of my arm, until he settled on my hips. He pressed his forehead to mine, closing his eyes as he moved us to the beat of the music.
My brain told me to push back, to make him open up, force him to trust me, trust us, but my body…oh my body just wanted him to keep touching me. He may have said we’d get each other out of our systems if we crossed that line, but I knew that wasn’t true. Gage made my skin hum and my heart race. And that was just watching him on the ice. When his hands were on me? I was practically on fire, and the need to be consumed by his intensity wasn’t something that could simply fade.
“Bailey.” He sighed into my ear, his cheek pressed against mine as he arched me backward, bringing me back up against him slowly. I trembled, the heat from his voice and his body soaked through my flimsy gray tank-top and it penetrated straight into my center. If he made me ache this badly with just a dance, I couldn’t imagine how it would be with him on top of me, between my thighs. Actually…yes, yes I could imagine, and I wanted it. Wanted him sliding the silk off my body, leaving me bared to him. Wanted his strong, hard body against mine, his mouth everywhere he could reach.
I didn’t just want, I craved him.
“Gage.” I caught his eye then, the flames matching the lust level pumping through my blood. My heart soared with the sight, with the knowledge he wanted me as badly as he did, but the doubt quickly crept back in. I slipped my hand down to his, tracing my fingers over his knuckles. “You were seconds away from pummeling that guy as if he’d checked you on the ice.”
His hands flexed underneath my touch, and he pulled me closer to him, swaying us to the music. “He was crowding you. I could see it on your face. You didn’t like it.”
I arched a
n eyebrow at him. “You think you can read me that well?”
“I know I can.”
“You think that happens with everyone?” I challenged him, wanting him to see how perfect we could be if he’d just let me in.
He gave the slightest shake of his head.
“So what is it, Gage?” I asked, spinning in his embrace until my back pressed against his chest. I reached up and grabbed his neck, looking up at him from behind. “You want me? Or you just don’t want anyone else to have me?” I shamelessly swished my ass against him, shocked at how hard he already was.
“Is there a difference?” He growled in my ear, lightly nipping at my lobe.
Warm chills danced across my skin and I spun again, rolling my hips against him as he held me with strong hands at my lower back. “There’s a huge difference.”
I held his eyes, needing him to say it, needing him to realize it himself.
When the song had ended and we were halfway into the next one, I sighed. His silence was enough to stall anymore pushing from me. I would not be the only one to work for this.
I pulled away from him, my shoulders drooping as I prepared to leave him standing there, half-hard, on the dancefloor.
I only made it three steps before he grabbed my wrist and yanked me back against him.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, crushing his lips on mine, successfully stealing my breath and my will in one smooth flick of his tongue. He ripped his lips away. “Except for home with me.”
The words were an order, but his eyes asked a question.
“We’ll have the house to ourselves,” he reminded me after I hadn’t responded, a glimpse of vulnerability streaking across his eyes. As if there was ever a chance I would tell him no.
If he was going to take a step forward, I’d meet him there.
Hope bloomed in my chest, and undiluted want pulsed between my thighs. Not even want...need. I needed this man’s hands on me, his body above mine, needed him to appease the ache that had grown into an outright demand. Now was my chance, to finally have the night of my life with Gage, something I’d fantasized about for months. I could scream out his name with no fear of Lettie hearing.
“I have to tell Jeannine,” I blurted out and he instantly laughed.
“She has to know right this second? Don’t you girls usually talk about all that after the fact?”
I facepalmed myself. “No, ugh.” I chuckled despite myself, the tension coiling inside me relieved for a moment. “I have to tell her I found another ride home.”
His eyes lit up, brighter and hotter than the colored club lights pulsing above us.
Jeannine chatted with Warren, who’d taken my spot at the bar. I hugged her, quickly whispering in her ear the situation. She managed to only wink at me as I turned to leave, but I knew I’d have to dish tomorrow.
Butterflies flapped in my stomach as I climbed into Gage’s car, the few paparazzi outside snapping shots of us. I was used to it, but I’d usually always had Lettie with me, who shielded me with my purpose in her life. Without her—with just Gage and me in the car, heading to our home while she slept at Grammy’s—I was doused in uncertainty.
What if we did this and it really did ruin everything we’d built? What if we did this and I ended up just like all the other disgruntled bunnies? What if—
Gage reached across the space between us with his free hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. The gesture calmed my racing mind and fueled the passion burning in my heart for him.
Screw the what if game. I wasn’t missing my shot at something brilliant because of a stupid thing like fear.
We made it home unbelievably fast and Gage’s mouth was on mine before he opened the door. His strong hands tangled in my hair, angling me, holding me, making me a puppet to his demands, and my body trembled with delight as his kiss deepened. Gage knew exactly how to play my body. He pressed me against the stucco wall outside the front door, no question now about how much he wanted me. I hooked my leg around his hip, grinding against his hard length, the friction making him growl.
Without breaking our kiss, he managed to get the door open and grabbed my ass, hefting me up where I could do nothing but lock my ankles around his hips. He walked without a struggle inside the house, not bothering to flick the lights on as he headed toward his bedroom.
“Daddy?” Lettie’s soft voice echoed from the couch in the living room and Gage all but dropped me.
As I scrambled to find my footing, Gage steadying me, I contemplated how we had missed the car outside, though I reminded myself how distracting Gage’s mouth had been.
“I’m sorry, dear,” his mother said, returning to the room from the kitchen, a sippy cup in one hand and the digital thermometer in the other. “Scarlett has a bit of a fever.”
Gage was at Lettie’s side in a blink, who laid on the couch underneath the Shark’s fleece blanket she treasured. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “What do you need, baby girl?”
“Ice cream,” she said.
Gage whipped his head up to me, his eyes panicked and questioning. I shook my head, walking around the couch. Milk and fevers never went well for her. “It’s too late for ice cream, Lettie. How about I make you a smoothie?”
“Deal,” she said. “Daddy?”
“Yeah?” Gage ran his fingers through her hair.
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight? I don’t feel good.”
“Of course. I’ll put the Sound of Music on.” He kissed her forehead again, flashing me a look as he passed to get the movie set up in his room. I couldn’t tell if it was a look of regret or relief.
“I didn’t want to call you two, but she wanted to be at home,” Gage’s mother said. A flush raked my skin, wondering what would’ve happened if she’d caught Gage and me as we walked into the house.
“Thank you for bringing her. How high is it?”
“Mild. I gave her some Tylenol to help bring it down.”
I nodded, happy she’d done exactly what I would’ve. Of course she had, she was a mom. She kissed Lettie and grabbed her purse off the end table. “I’ll leave you two to it then.” She patted my shoulder and gave me a closed mouth smile before heading out the door.
Gage came back a few seconds later, scooping Lettie up. “Movie is all set.”
“Can Bailey sleep with us too, daddy?” Lettie asked, her eyelids heavy as she leaned her head against his chest.
“Only if she wants to, Lettie-Lou. She may want to sleep in her own bed.” He locked eyes with me, and a tiny piece of hope pulsed in my chest.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I assured her. “Just have to make your smoothie first.”
Lettie smiled, and Gage did too, right before he winked at me. I left for the kitchen, my heart swelling at the ease in which we shifted from rip-each-other’s-clothes-off-mode to play-house-mode.
We fit, and with each realization of how well we did, I fell harder and harder for him. It was like simply acknowledging the possibility had sent my emotions into overdrive. But if he didn’t let me in, if he didn’t open up enough to trust me not to burn him like his past, then it wouldn’t matter how much I cared about him, he’d ruin us. And even knowing that—I was still willing to take the risk because he—and Lettie—were beyond worth it.
Chapter 9
Gage
I stretched my legs out in front of me as game tape rolled on the projection screen ahead of us. We were only a few days away from our showdown with Ontario, and Coach was killing us on these things.
“You know, this would be more fun at your house with a few beers,” Warren whispered from next to me.
“I second that motion. I say we follow through after this,” Rory chimed in.
“No can do,” I said, checking my phone for the time. It was already four-thirty. My girls were going to have my head if we ran much later. My girls. God, I loved the sound of that—loved the feeling of being a unit, a family. Most girls would have flipped their shit if we were halfway to m
y bedroom and she got cockblocked by Lettie. Instead, Bailey had gotten right down to taking care of my baby, and damn if that didn’t make my insides ridiculously tight just thinking about it.
“Got a hot date?” Rory asked.
“If you’re referring to my three-year-old as a hot date,” I answered.
“That’s it for tonight, Gentlemen,” Coach called off, shutting off the TV.
“Speaking of three-year-olds, what time is her party on Saturday?” Warren asked.
“It’s at one o’clock, and if you assholes are late I’m going to let her put you in princess dresses the entire party.” I leveled them with a glare. “Ask me if I’m kidding.”
“One o’clock. Got it,” Rory saluted me
“McPherson, can I have a word?” Coach asked.
Fuck me, Bailey is going to kill me. “Absolutely,” I answered. “Catch you dumbasses later,” I said to the guys and headed over to where Coach stood in the doorway to his office. “What’s up?”
“How are you feeling about Saturday?” He asked.
My stomach turned over. “If you’re asking about my shoulder, I’m fine. It’s been fine. It will continue to be fine.”
“It’s not about the shoulder.”
Was he going to bench me? Let the rookie start? Hell no, I’d been playing my ass off. “Look, if you’re thinking of taking me off starter—”
He shook his head and clasped my shoulder. “It’s not about that, son. You’ve come back strong, maybe even stronger than you were before the accident. My concern is Adkins.”
“I can handle him.”
“I know you can, but we both know he’s an aggressive son of a bitch, and...well, I was here when Helen left. I know what it did to you...and to little Scarlett. I just need to know that your head is in the game, and not on everything else. No one would blame you if it wasn’t.”
I couldn’t be pissed. Coach was one of the few people I’d let see me after Helen left. He’d witnessed my deterioration first-hand. “I’ll be okay. I promise. Timing is shit with Lettie’s birthday, but it’s not like Helen is going to try anything. She hasn’t so much as talked to Lettie since she walked out a year ago. I’m keeping this on the ice, period.”
Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) Page 8
