Rouse (Revenge Book 7)

by Trevion Burns

  Celeste finished with another huff, allowing her stark straight spine to relax ever so softly as she gave the arm of the couch all of her weight once more, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder and looking off into the corner of the room, chest heaving and eyes alight.

  Dr. Marshall looked to the middle of the couch, where Gage was now staring at the back of Celeste’s head. “Gage—?”

  “Yeah, I hear what she’s saying,” Gage said, speaking to Celeste’s back. He swallowed thickly. “Look. Mother… I don’t blame you, okay? Am I angry? Yes. But not at you. It’s unfair for me to lay the fury and frustration that I’m harboring deep in my heart for them on you. A fury and frustration I’ll never be able to direct at them—the people who actually deserve it—because they’re six feet under. I’m glad they’re dead too. I am. But I’m angry that I’ll never get the chance to confront either of them. That’s my issue. You’re just as much a victim as every other man, woman, and child who went missing or came up dead on this island during their reign. You’re just a much a victim of the poisoned Blackwater name as I am… So… I’m sorry…”

  Celeste snuck a look at Gage through the corners of her watery eyes.

  Gage held her gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting into a shy smile. “I suppose you raised me to be a spoiled, entitled brat. You can’t really hold it against me for acting like one, right?”

  Celeste rotated her body toward him, covering his clasped hands with hers. “Oh, darling, you’re the farthest thing from spoiled.”

  Veda chortled.

  Every eye in the room flew to her.

  “Veda,” Dr. Marshall’s voice grew stern, brows pinched. “Is there anything you’d like to add? Any thoughts? Any feelings you’d like to share with Gage and Celeste?”

  Feeling all eyes on her, Veda pulled the sucker from her mouth, tossed it into the trash can next to the couch and shook her curls away from her face, reclaiming the doctor’s eyes with her lips clenched.

  “No,” Veda answered.

  Dr. Marshall raised her eyebrows.

  Veda raised hers back.

  Dr. Marshall studied Veda for a long moment before clicking the pen in her hand and scribbling furiously onto the notepad in her lap.

  Veda’s eyes fell to the notepad as Dr. Marshall scribbled. A notepad she only put to good use whenever she and Veda had a verbal exchange, which was rare. The scribbling seemed to go on for an eternity—so long, Dr. Marshall had to flip the page when she ran out of room before she continued writing furiously once more.

  Veda nearly screamed. What the hell was she writing? All she’d said was the word ‘no’ and this woman was inspired enough to pen a dissertation? The sound of that pen on paper was always akin to a bomb going off to Veda, but never more so than it was right then. Soaked in judgment and secrecy.

  After she’d finished writing, Dr. Marshall looked up with a deep sigh. “Well, I think we’ve gotten as far as we’re going to get in today’s session…” Her eyes flew between the people watching her across the room, her voice chipper. “Same time next week?”

  2

  Veda smiled at Gage as he unlocked the front door of their home, that simple action alone making the muscled wings on his back pulse against his white button-down shirt. She was unable to stop herself from reaching out to steal a touch, nibbling her bottom lip as she ran both hands down the hard ridges of the bones on either side.

  “I swear I feel like we have the exact same conversation at these therapy sessions, every single week. When does the sanity start?” she breathed, massaging his back.

  Gage shrugged away from her hold, not looking back or even acknowledging that he’d felt her touch as he opened the door to the house and stepped inside.

  Veda followed him with her mouth hanging open, closing the door behind her and watching from the foyer as he moved smoothly across the room. He kicked off his camel loafers as he went, leaving them laying in the middle of the white marble floor next to the round foyer table. With a soft laugh, Veda followed and swept up his shoes as she went. Since the day they’d closed on that house, just a few blocks down from the white stone mansion where the patriarchs of his family had been gunned down, she’d never seen him leave clutter on the floor so blatantly. Usually, it was he who was cleaning up after her. Always quick to subtly remind her of the huge chunk of his inheritance they’d used to purchase this home. An inheritance Gage had come into in the wake of his “father’s” death—since Pierce and David had met their demise before they’d been able to follow through on their promise of writing Gage out of the will.

  The smile on Veda’s face continued to grow as she followed Gage past the double-arched staircases that greeted the door and lined the walls on either side. She kicked off her own shoes as she followed, the patter of their feet against the floors filling the room all the way up to the vaulted ceilings. After throwing their shoes in the guest closet, she entered the family room and caught sight of Gage just as he came to a stop at the kitchen island. He’d left his laptop open there earlier that morning, and quickly got to work pattering away at the keys with a deep line between his brows.

  Veda tugged at her burgundy t-shirt dress. “I thought I sensed an attitude in the car but watching you leave your shoes orphaned in the middle of the foyer floor pretty much confirms it.”

  He didn’t look up, still clicking away at his laptop, frowning at the screen.

  Veda gave a soft roll of her eyes, her smile growing knowingly as she narrowed her gaze to the large window that spanned the entire north wall of the living area, giving an unfiltered view of the black rocky cliff their home sat atop of, and the calm blue surface of a sparkling ocean. The waters below may have been serene and peaceful, but Veda felt another storm brewing as Gage snatched his laptop off the island and carried it through the living area, passing her without even meeting her eyes.

  Shock crossed her face, and she followed him into the study, lingering in the doorway as he took a seat behind his desk, which was flanked by cathedral windows that looked out into the infinity pool in their backyard.

  The click of keys filled the room.

  Veda crossed her arms tight. “I’ve finally decided on a color scheme for the wedding. And, no, you don’t get a vote.”

  Gage’s eyes danced back and forth on the screen, the tap of keys picking up pace.

  “Nothing, huh?” Veda asked, kicking her toes against the dark cherry wood floors of the office, in the midst of a pout when she realized not even his favorite topic was enough to pull him out of whatever funk he was in. “Well, if wedding talk doesn’t do it, nothing will.”

  His jaw pulsed and rolled, and then he looked up at her from over the screen, the shadow of his brow bone darkening his eyes. “You called me spoiled.”

  A fresh smile bloomed on her face as he lowered his eyes back to the computer once more. “I didn’t call you spoiled. I laughed when Celeste said you weren’t spoiled. Totally different.”

  He grumbled and resumed typing once more.

  Veda began toward the desk in slow strides, the floor cool against the beds of her feet, touching everything she passed—the white marble fireplace, the bookshelves, and the potted plants situated all over the room.

  She circled around the desk, leaned on it, and took a peek at what he was working on. She immediately recognized the website he was in the process of building for the non-profit foundation he’d founded to fight human trafficking on Shadow Rock Island—a foundation that was already drowning in donations from all over the world and had garnered more press coverage than his small staff could handle. Of the many ventures Gage had started up since Blackwater Cruises had been turned on its head—including a community outreach and low-income housing program for kids on the hill—this one was by far Veda’s favorite.

  “I was thinking about pushing up the wedding,” she said, softly. “Fuck the ceremony. Fuck the big party. Just you and me. Anywhere but here.” When he didn’t look up, her mouth fell open as she stood t
o her feet. “Oh my god, you’re actually mad.”

  “You called me spoiled.”

  “Well,” Veda breathed. “You are a little spoiled, Gage.”

  He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe those words had just spilled out of her mouth.

  “A lot spoiled, actually.” She smiled. “And I think this entire ridiculous exchange we’re having right now proves it.”

  He didn’t smile back, his heated gaze traveling her face, jaw clenching tight as he broke their stare and looked back at his computer. He picked up a random pen from the glass desk and gripped it so tight it nearly split.

  Veda came up behind the black leather chair and took hold of his shoulders, her touch lingering there for a long, soft moment before she moved her hands down his chest, leaning forward as she went, fingers splayed so she could touch as much of him as possible. The solid arches of his pecs, the cavernous valleys of his eight-pack abs, and the sharp ridges of the deep V at his hips. When she was low enough, warming his ear with her breath, she drew the lobe between her teeth as her fingers trickled over his belt buckle and came to a slow stop at the zipper of his pants, sucking his ear softly as his stomach clenched in response.

  “I could stop spoiling you…” she whispered, releasing his ear with a smack, breathing in the fresh scent of his aftershave as her hand caressed his zipper in languid circles until the warm weight of his hardness was filling her palm. “If that’s what you’d prefer…” She cupped her fingers around the tent in his pants, drawing a sharp gasp from his lips. “Is that what you want?” Her lips warmed his cheek in a kiss. “You want me to stop spoiling you?”

  This time, Gage couldn’t find the words. Nor could he find the strength to put his fingers back on the keys of his computer—instead, letting them linger just above them as if the very act of typing had suddenly escaped him.

  Sensing his slow surrender, watching his eyes flutter closed, and his long black lashes tickle his cheeks, she took her kisses down the side of his neck, taking her time to stop at every inch of skin to suck it between her lips. Wet it with her tongue. Nip it with her teeth. Every kiss elicited a new breath from his parted lips, each heavier than the last. Those breaths moved to heaves as she got to work undoing his belt buckle, the clicking of the metal rising into the air and joining the sound of his strangled breaths.

  She eyed the bright screen of the laptop he’d abandoned and the website that was coming along nicely. “I like spoiling you. Especially since you’re one of the reasons this island is still afloat. One of the reasons we’re all safe and secure today. Free to live, and love—and make love—whenever we want.” She unbuttoned his slacks. “Without fear. With wild abandon.”

  He swallowed thickly, his eyes moving to their corners to catch hers, ripe with desire even as he attempted to remain serious.

  “I’m not the one who pulled the trigger,” his voice came roughly.

  She smiled against his skin as the real cause of his vitriol showed its face for the first time. A low moan left her own lips as she lowered his zipper. “You pulled your own trigger. In your own way. Your testimony delivered just as strong a blow as any bullet.”

  The moment her hand sank past the open zipper, and she wrapped her fingers around his soft cock, skin on skin, Gage hissed sharply and moved in a flash, reaching one arm behind him, seizing her arm, and pulling her around the chair.

  Veda squealed at the swift movement, then giggled as his pull forced her to face him with her back to the desk. She gripped the edge of the thick glass, watching as his eyes traveled her body, the pulsing head of his dick still peeking out from where she’d pulled it from its home behind his zipper.

  Still sitting, Gage took hold of her waist at its smallest part and squeezed. His dark brown eyes became even more shadowed as he licked his pink lips and followed his own splayed fingers as he dragged them slowly down her heaving stomach and plush thighs, lingering on the hem of the burgundy dress at her knees. He grabbed the hem and tried to pull it up.

  Veda clapped her hands down on his before he could, feeling the shiftiness of her own brown eyes when he looked up at her in question. “I had a wax scheduled… but she canceled on me last minute.”

  Gage searched her eyes while bunching the hem in his hands. Then, he stood, and in one swift move, pulled the dress over Veda’s head before sitting back down in the chair. He dropped the dress to the floor as his eyes traveled her naked body slowly, inch by agonizing inch.

  Veda clapped her hands over her stomach when his eyes lingered there.

  He shook his head with a frown, taking her hands and moving them away while looking up at her with big eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

  She breathed out a laugh when he grabbed her thighs, digging his fingers into them as he did, and lifted them over his shoulders, forcing her to sit on the glass table, spread-eagle before him.

  Since the day she’d met Gage, she’d never missed out on a wax at her favorite salon. She’d never sat before him, spread-eagle, without one, and the fact that she’d somehow found herself in that position right then made her wish she’d have just let Gage stay mad. Now that she’d seduced him into forgiving her for calling him spoiled, she had to live with the embarrassment of him being greeted by her unusual situation downstairs. Thankfully, even though she hadn’t waxed in six weeks, she’d still made sure to shave and maintain the area, so it wasn’t a complete jungle, but regardless, it wasn’t what he was used to. Add in her jiggly belly, and she must’ve looked like a different person altogether.

  She pressed her lips tight, feeling a soft line forming between her eyebrows.

  Gage must’ve seen it because he shook his head once more. “You’re beautiful.”

  Six weeks. Six weeks since she’d allowed him to see her in her full naked glory. Six weeks since she’d known the warmth of his beautiful, smooth fingers reaching between her legs and spreading the lips of her swollen bud apart. Six weeks since he’d leaned in and buried his own plush, pink lips between them, wetting her clit with rapid flicks of his tongue before trapping it between his lips.

  Six weeks was a long time, and the scream that immediately left her mouth and filled the study proved it. She threw her head back as he ate her, sinking her fingers into his silky black hair as shot after shot of pleasure trickled across her skin, making it feel seconds from boiling off the bone. In seconds, as she grew more wet under the persistence of his strong tongue and eager fingers, she was no longer shy, instead, spreading her legs as wide as they would go, allowing her ample belly to shake, along with her hurried, frantic gasps. Rotating her hips against his face until the music of his tongue and her wetness mixed in with her cries and filled the room.

  “Yes, Gage… Please…” she begged, nearly pulling his hair from the scalp. “I’m gonna…”

  Those two words were all the indication Gage needed to slip three fingers inside her, his tongue never slowing its assault on her clit as he found her G-Spot and stroked it in time.

  And Veda’s body exploded with light, so blindingly bright she was forced to slam her eyes closed. So scaldingly hot, the palms of her hands grew slippery from where she’d slapped them down on the glass behind her to hold herself up, causing her to fall back on the desk when it became impossible to keep herself upright. Burying the other hand in her hair, she wanted to beg him not to stop but her throat wouldn’t form words, only emitting cries of pleasure as the warmth that had started in her pussy slowly exploded all over her body and reverberated until her back was arched off the table, and his head was trapped between her thighs, which she’d clapped together at the height of her orgasm.

  Gage couldn’t help a small laugh. The sound muffled from where she was surely cutting off circulation in his skull by trapping it between her legs. But he didn’t stop. His fingers didn’t relent in their slippery excursion inside her. His tongue didn’t rest until she’d collapsed onto the desk, spent, too satiated to worry for a moment about the body that, seconds earlier, she’d been trying
to hide from him.

  “Oh my God,” Veda breathed, coming up to her elbows, her chest rising and falling, shock soaking her eyes. “It’s been way too long, Gage.”

  “Too long,” he agreed, tongue still tangling with the lips of her pussy—shining with his attentions—softly.

  Veda licked her lips at the sight and then lunged at him, knowing he’d catch her. He did, a hearty laugh filling his chest when she jumped into the rolling chair with him, causing it to roll back a few inches.

  She sank out of the chair as it rolled, holding Gage’s eyes and biting her bottom lip as she came to her knees between his legs. The cool wood floor was hard under her kneecaps, instantly making them scream out with the tiniest shot of pain, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was getting those gray slacks down his thighs. With Gage’s aid in lifting his hips from the chair, she tugged them down until they were in a pool at his ankles, before she went after what she really wanted.

  Gage cursed under his breath when she leaned her elbows on his rock hard thighs, the feathered hairs there tickling her arms, and seized his hardness between her soft fingers, unable to grip him all the way around due to his sheer girth. This time, it was his hands burying themselves in her hair, getting tangled in the curls, begging for something he couldn’t quite put into words. Knowing she’d see in his eyes what he really needed.

  Veda did see it in his eyes, and also felt it in the unconscious thrust of his hips against her hand, forcing a stroke of his aching dick from her nimble fingers and propelling the pulsing head closer to her mouth. Her eyes fell to the thick head, glistening with pre-cum, before she leaned in and drew it between her lips, pressing her tongue against the sensitive underside as she took all of him in her mouth. His size instantly caused her jaw to ache—it always did—but she fought past it, more desperate to give him pleasure than to ease her discomfort.