“Gorgeous,” he said, so near I felt the moisture in his breath. “Roll on your stomach.”
I was happy to comply, surprised to find my cheeks as erogenous as my breasts, maybe more so. I had to move my bottom under the blanket of kisses, tipping it toward him. Gage opened his lips, the kisses wet now, and hot, nearing my anus. He set his hands on my hips, encouraging me to lift my bottom for him, and met no resistance.
He was going to kiss it. His mouth on me there. I moaned and tilted my hips, offering it. Gage spread my cheeks carefully, like an old book whose spine merited caution. I remembered opening him the same way, the night we met him.
He kissed a ring around my pucker before finding it unerringly and repeatedly. When he introduced his tongue, the skin on my buttocks shivered like a horse’s.
“You taste so good, and this is so hot, and I love you so much.” Gage paused, lapping at me. “I want to eat your ass for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I do.” He dipped his tongue the deepest yet. “And dessert.”
Now he worked one hand flat between my slick vaginal lips. “Somebody’s really, really wet. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Put it in,” I said.
“Put what in where? Say it, Natalie. And say my name.”
“Gage, I want you to put your big fat cock in my pussy, right now.”
“Perfect. Hold still, now.” He slid in as easily as if he’d been there only moments before. “Oh, I like this, taking you from the back. Nice view. Good angle for me to do this.” His finger circled my wet rosebud.
Oh, no, was he going to do what I thought he was? The thought both excited and repelled.
“You like that, don’t you? Should I put it inside, just a little?”
“I’m not sure.” God, no. Wait. Yes?
Gage was no more sure than I was. He hesitated, driving me crazy with his finger skating in the plentiful moisture from his tonguing but not entering.
“I wish,” he said softly, his voice hoarse, “that I had two cocks, this one and a littler one, but just as long and hard. I’d eat you, and eat your ass, until neither one of us can stand it another second, and I’d put them both in, the big one here”—he thrust deeply and pushed—”and the little one here.” He pressed his fingertip, which wormed through my anus and just barely beyond, where I had as many nerve endings as my clitoris, judging by the strength and suddenness of the orgasm.
“Oh, yeah, come for me, Natalie, come big, yeah.”
I rode the wave for what seemed like a long time before returning to a somewhat stunned reality. Why hadn’t James and I discovered this earlier?
Gage pulled his finger free gently. “I love every inch of you.” He pulled his hard penis from me too. I felt empty and missed him acutely.
“That was—” I shook my head, unable to find the words. “Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure. Really.” He gave my anus a chaste, closed-mouth kiss. I reached for his penis, but he moved my hand away, kissing my palm.
“But you didn’t get to—”
“Shh,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” I said.
“I love you is what matters. I’m content with making you happy.” He laughed. “You say it enough times, it gets in. It’s not about me. My new mantra, you think?”
Gage clambered over me to lie face-to-face. “It’s getting light out. I haven’t stayed up all night in ages, except when I was sick or jet-lagged.”
“Me, either.” My brain was lagging; I’d been up all night with James the night after his father died. Not that long ago.
“I’m glad I told you and that you’re okay with it.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You’re right, it’s good to let things out. Good stuff and bad stuff both. I feel, I don’t know, clear? Does that make sense?”
“Sort of.”
“Rowan says that she feels cleanest, like, emotionally, when she’s done crying or just came.”
“She’s getting along with Dave, then?”
“Yeah. Family curse, though. She loves him, but she’s scared to say so, since it’s not a sure thing he feels the same. She should try it anyway. Maybe he’s good with just being loved.”
“If knowing how she felt freed him to feel more strongly than he thought he should, maybe he’d love her back.”
“Maybe he would. Maybe he does and is afraid to say it.”
“Sometimes it works that way.” It was hard to pin down what made this so frightening. I wasn’t afraid of Gage or of my own emotions. Maybe I wasn’t certain?
No. I knew.
“Sometimes it does.” Gage stopped breathing and just stared, a believer hoping to witness the promised miracle.
“This is really scary,” I said.
He didn’t speak or breathe, just nodded his understanding.
“I think I love you.”
Gage hugged me so tightly that my ribs hurt. “Tomorrow, we’ll go get James, and we’ll do his birthday over again at home, and it’ll be great, because everybody loves everybody else.”
“Today.” The sky was decidedly lighter. Dawn wasn’t far off.
“And tomorrow, and the day after.” He rolled onto his back, smiling, his head nested in his arms. “You don’t usually get the best day of your life and the worst day on the same day.”
“Be glad they came in the order they did, huh?”
Neither of us spoke for a while. “I had a decent career, a ridiculous amount of money, and all the sex I wanted. My life was perfect, except for Rowan. Love, what’s the big deal? Way overrated.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Who needs it?”
“Everybody. I’m so in love, Natalie. And you both love me back. It’s fucking awesome. Literally awesome. Jesus, listen to me. No, don’t. I was fourteen before. Now I’m twelve. And in love.”
I didn’t need to say anything. I turned so we could snuggle facing east, nestled with the ease of longtime lovers. Gage spread the thin blue robe over us both.
Daylight stole into the yard. The blacks and grays of our fully adapted night vision yielded to the seeming miracle of a typical morning. The grassy patch where we lay mutated from gray to green. I smiled at the startling burst of color as my zinnias became pink, orange, and red.
“This is amazing,” Gage said softly near my ear. “Right now, everything’s…balanced.”
It was. Our bodies fit as if we’d been molded as one, then separated. He loved me, and I loved him. We both loved James. James loved both of us. Balanced.
We didn’t speak again, but he made a small pleasured noise as the sun peeped over Rincons and a single Bible-illustration ray pointed a dazzling finger toward us. After that, we lay quiet as the dawn desert for a long time. My breathing slowed as my thoughts became surreal.
I never heard the patio door rumble in its track.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A feminine gasp brought me from what must have been a light, dreamless sleep to full wakefulness.
Cynthia’s mouth formed a comically shocked O.
At her side, James smiled sunny approval behind dark sunglasses. “It’s okay, Cyn,” he said, then to us added, “I didn’t mean outside.”
“It’s none of my business!” Cynthia hurried inside.
James went after her. I pulled the blue robe off Gage and myself. He stirred as I threw it on, flipping the robe we’d lain on over his hips. I belted mine as I followed James into the kitchen.
My husband held both of Cynthia’s hands in his. “Really, it’s fine. We didn’t stumble into something I shouldn’t know about. I told them to.”
“To do that?”
“To make love. Not to fall asleep with Gage’s ass hanging out.”
“What are you doing home?” I asked.
“The nose guy cleared me around eight. By nine they said I could go as soon as I lined up a ride.”
“Hi,” Gage said. His “bed hair” was worse than usual but adorable. He remembered to close the patio door. “Glad you’r
e home. Nice outfit.”
I hadn’t really looked. The T-shirt was emblazoned “TRUST ME I’M A LAWYER” and instead of pants he wore blue scrubs and flip-flops many sizes too large.
“Yours too.” James surely recognized his own robe. “The shirt’s Doug’s. His pants were hopeless, even with a belt, so they loaned me these. The sunglasses are pretty good, though. Our heads are the same size.”
“Big,” Cynthia said. “Keep them until you don’t need to hide your eyes.”
“How bad are they?” Gage asked.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I reached to hug him, then thought better of it.
His relief showed. “I did. Several times. Home phone, my cell, Gage’s cell. Nada. I couldn’t call a cab, since I had you take my wallet, and since you had my keys too, I couldn’t ask them to take me on credit and get paid when I got here, in case I couldn’t get in.”
“Where would I go?”
“I don’t know. The yard? Anyway, I tried Rowan, but I got voice mail. She’s probably at class. Manny, I didn’t want to pull off the job. I don’t know the other guys’ numbers. Then I thought of Cynthia.” He pulled her close and gave her a brotherly hug. “Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Show them your eyes,” she said. “More color than an Italian sunset.”
Without the sunglasses, James looked just awful. His swollen nose was nothing compared to the one truly black eye. The other was more a red-purple, and both were bloodshot.
“Ow,” I said in sympathy. “How do you feel?”
“Wiped out. They kept coming in all night to check for whether I had a concussion. I don’t. What I’ve got is a headache that’s going to last a week, they said, maybe two. Plus I’m dirty, and sore all over, like I’d been in a fight or started a gym membership.”
Gage laughed. “You look good to me.”
Cynthia said, “You belong in bed.”
“Too hot. Long story, Cyn, but there’s no air in there. Nights it’s okay, days it’s an oven. The couch is fine.”
“No, it’s not,” Gage said promptly and rolled his eyes at me.
“What?” James said.
“Your birthday,” I filled in. “Or did it come back to you?”
“Nope. I lost everything after dinner.”
“Gage and I thought we’d just do it over, except takeout, not the restaurant.”
“And not the accident,” Gage added. “Although if we did eat out, I’m not the one who’d draw stares for a change.”
“I need to wrap your presents again,” I said, “so you can’t go in there.”
“What makes the most sense,” Cynthia said, “is for James to come home with me, just for the day. What time should I deliver him for dinner?”
“How’s six thirty?” Gage said. “Probably smack in the middle of your dinner. Or not, since you and Doug are invited.”
“Oh, we couldn’t intrude.”
“No intrusion,” I said. “Please say you’ll come. Just dinner, cake, and presents. An early night.”
“All right. I’ll have to run it by Doug, but he’ll agree so long as he doesn’t have to socialize with strangers in suits.”
“I’m stranger than most people,” Gage said.
“Jeans or shorts is fine,” I told her.
“I want my own pants,” James said, moving toward the bedroom.
“Sweetie, just grab what you want to change into. Your busy schedule includes a hot shower, a long nap, the Jacuzzi, and maybe just a little TV.”
“Grab a swimsuit,” I called to him.
“He can go naked,” Cynthia said. “It’s private. Besides, it’s not fair for me to see Gage’s fanny and not James’s, right?”
“What?” Gage said.
“I’ve paid plenty to see your tushy on the big screen,” she said with a voice that winked, “but I meant in the yard. Natalie had the covers.”
“Oh.” Gage blushed.
“Relax, it’s nothing. Except sunburned. Not as pink as your arm.”
Gage pressed a finger to his forearm. The ruddy skin stayed white for too long. “Damn. That’s gonna hurt later, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” I said, peering closer. “But I don’t think you’ll blister. No more sleeping in the yard for you.”
“Right,” he said, pressing again. “How long were we out there? What time is it, anyway?”
“A little after eleven,” Cynthia said.
James returned, a gym bag in his hand and beaded sweat on his upper lip and forehead. He moved slowly, obviously hurting.
“Do you have pain meds?” Cynthia’s concern showed.
“I have a prescription.” He patted his scrub pants and found no pockets. “Had. It must be in your car.”
“We’ll fill it. Grab your wallet, James. Or I can get it.”
I handed her the wallet and his keys. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“I’m glad to have a chance to mother somebody again, even if it’s just for the afternoon. Don’t worry about a thing, Natalie. Gage, get some lotion on that arm and your tushy. Come on, James. We’re getting you to bed.”
I kissed Jamie carefully before they left, but I think it hurt nevertheless. Gage looked on with longing eyes.
“It’s like you kissed him too,” I assured him. “He knows.”
* * * *
Gage worked the phone like the actor I often forgot he was. He paced the house, disappearing into whatever room I wasn’t in, so I rarely heard more than a sentence or two. His performance astonished me: one role warmly friendly, the next cold and demanding, one coolly professional, one blasé and bored, one flirtatious. I had no idea who he was calling or about what.
His calls were none of my business. He had a career to see to, I reminded myself, and food to order, a gift to buy, a truck to return or sell.
I rewrapped gifts and made the house presentable for company. As I’d grown more accustomed to Gage’s daily presence, I’d slid back to my previous standards for clean, not awful but not good enough for guests. As usual, I started with the bathroom, silently cursing men and their anatomy. It was always a relief to have that job behind me.
In the dining room, the vacuum sucked up a chunk of glass. I knew the sound as it clattered around the roller brush for several seconds before thunking up the hose to the canister. I’d had no idea any glass had jumped so far, or I’d have been wearing shoes. I stood in place, vacuuming thoroughly all around the place I stood. Another piece of glass clacked its way to the canister.
Grandma’s crystal, shattered. Old enough to be revered when she brought it from Italy. How many “greats” could I add to the grandfather or grandmother who’d first drunk wedding champagne from it? Maybe Gage was right, and I should look for replacement pieces online. He’d pay and never miss it. Although those would only be just like the ones Grandma Felluca had brought on the boat, not the actual items.
Silly, really, to feel so wistful. It was just a thing, after all. Things didn’t matter, not really. People mattered. Love mattered. That I had.
I jumped when Gage tapped me on the shoulder.
“Going shopping,” he said loudly.
I turned off the vacuum.
“Thanks. I should be back, but the food’s supposed to come right about seven. Dinner for eight—I invited Rowan and Dave too, and he’s a big eater, judging from the looks of him. Anyway, it’s paid for, including a good tip, so don’t give them anything but a smile.”
“Am I allowed to say ‘thank you’?”
“Like I could stop you.”
“What are you getting James this time?”
He grinned. “Still a secret. But this time I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
The kitchen was pretty bad in the aftermath of Gage’s baking, but I still found the fact that he’d done it sweetly touching. The cake’s layers had cooled completely in their pans and refused to leave without tearing, but I’d made enough birthday cakes over the years to know exactly what to do. Plus I made a decent but
tercream frosting. We only had a few birthday candles left, so I sunk a slim taper into the cake’s center instead. Surrounded with sprinkles, it was properly festive.
I put the leaf in the table and set it for seven, then showered and let myself nap on the sofa until six.
The food arrived before Gage, who was so recently bathed as to be damp. Our other guests were prompt and bore gifts.
It was a nice little party, quiet and low-key. James gamely played host and birthday boy, although he seemed subdued and took only the smallest obligatory sip if the wine Gage poured.
“Drug interaction. You all go ahead,” he said.
The rest of us did, except Rowan and Dave.
“Mormon,” he said.
“Junkie,” she said, and he hugged her shoulders.
“Apple juice and sparkling water in the fridge. Try the tangerine.” Once everyone had something in their wineglasses, we toasted James.
My husband liked his gifts all over again, including the unexpected small presents. “When did you have time to shop?” I asked, but Cynthia just smiled.
Gage presented a bottle of French wine. I recognized the label from our first night together. James did too. After all the gifts were opened and praised, that and the boots were the two items he touched, with a smile, as the party swirled around him.
Our guests were gone by nine thirty. I was a little buzzed and a lot relieved; in the last half hour James’s brows had tightened, and sometimes the lightning bolt showed clearly. He’d had enough.
“Make him go to bed,” Cynthia said at the door.
“If I have to drag him myself,” Gage agreed and vamped for an instant as a man in drag.
James got as far as the La-Z-Boy under his own power, reclining it and raising the footrest so he was practically lying down.
“How you doing, babe?” I set his sparkling water in reach.
“Tired. Sore. Glad to be home.”
Gage knelt beside the old chair and handed him a fist-sized box. “Nat said I could go last,” he said.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
He’d asked if he could give his “real” present in private. “I don’t want to embarrass anybody, and I spent more than I should. Don’t worry, not that much. When you think of something just right, you get it anyway, you know?”
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