by Leia Thorne
I take my sunglasses off and head toward the in-suite bath. “Follow me. I’m sure there’s something in here to help with that.”
I plunder through the drawers, finding nothing interesting. All the scripts must be in the master cabin. With a sigh, I search the selection of bath salts. “For deep relaxation,” I read a label. “Let’s try this.”
“Sawyer, I’m fine. Really.”
I uncork the bottle and inhale the scent of lavender. Then, without consulting her further, I turn the lever on the tub and start drawing a bath. “I know you’re fine,” I say, testing the water temperature with my hand, “but I’m not. I feel awful about how I just left you, Remi. So let me take care of you, the way I should’ve last night.”
When I meet her eyes, I see the glassy sheen of unshed tears lingering there. Yes, I hurt her when I pushed Gage too far. Honestly, it hadn’t been my intention for her to suffer; I only aimed to put Gage in his place, to fix his aim on someone other than me for a while.
But here’s the truth: if it comes down to either me or her, I will always choose myself. Selfish? Absolutely. Anyone who says they’d sacrifice themselves for another is a liar. Humans are born with an innate defense mechanism for self-preservation.
I sprinkle the bath salts into the warm water and turn on the jets to mix it around. Then I stand and approach her.
“But you did take care of me last night,” she says.
Confused, I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”
She touches my hand. “Sawyer, you act so tough, but I saw what you did. Gage was jealous about me choosing you, and…” She trails off. “Let’s be honest. Gage has this whole intense, brutal side that I was unaware of until that moment, but you know this about him. You did what you did in order to draw his anger toward you because you were worried about me.”
My mouth parts. “Well,” I say, stunned. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called out so candidly.”
Her smile is soft. “Thank you.” She exhales heavily. “And don’t worry. I can handle Gage. I know he’s different than other guys…and I’m okay with that.”
I nod quickly, then look at the bathtub so she doesn’t see the doubt in my eyes. She’s barely glimpsed Gage’s cruelty. “Get undressed. I’ll find the shampoo.”
As she turns around and starts removing her clothes, I look at myself in the mirror briefly. I comb my nails through my bangs, then adjust my bikini top. That’s not at all how I remember the event, but if Remi has found a way to make sense of it that paints me in a good light, who am I to argue?
I dig through the cabinet until I find shampoo and conditioner and some expensive liquid soap. I clear my throat. “Wet your hair.”
Remi slips down into the tub, submerging her body and face. I scan her body, spotting the purpling of bruises. Fingers pressed hard against her skin. She was handled roughly during the initiation. The salts will actually help her feel better.
When she comes up for air, I pump a dollop of shampoo onto my palm and work it into her dark hair. Seated on the edge of the tub, I maneuver her to where her neck rests against my thigh as I lather the shampoo and use my fingers to massage her scalp.
“Can I ask you something?” she says.
I pause for a moment, then resume. “Of course.”
A brief hesitation, then: “Why have you never been with Gage?” At my intense silence, she adds, “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. I was just curious, because you joined the society and all.”
“No,” I say, as I continue to massage her hair, “that’s a fair question.” One that I have to think on how I want to answer. “In ninth grade, we toyed with the idea of us. It made sense. Our families, our status. We would’ve been Brighton’s power couple. But…”
She turns to look up at me. “But what?”
I dip my hands into the bath water to rinse them clean. “The idea of us was more intriguing than the reality. Gage and I are too similar in nature,” I say honestly. “We would’ve worn each other down by now, and really, probably killed each other.” I laugh to lighten the mood.
She smiles cautiously. “But you care about him.”
“I do. Despite our…agitation with each other lately, I want to see him happy. I think it’s time that he settle down with a girl who can challenge him in ways that I can’t.” I wink at her.
She nods to herself, as if she’s working something out internally. Then she slides under the water to rinse her hair. The shampoo has made the water sudsy. Much like my feelings for Gage, I can’t quite see through the murkiness.
The truth is, back then, Gage had an answer to the question of us. Together, we never would’ve survived each other. But as a group, a society, one where we could project our unrequited…urges, well. That just sounded like fun.
Then, the Broken Saints became so much more. It wasn’t just about satisfying desires. I witnessed the positive change in Palmer, in Emry, even in Rush. Well, not so much this year with Rush. But there are extenuating circumstances there.
At first, I wasn’t so sure when Gage recommended Remi…but now I’m hoping she can help balance the scales, fill the void, that Lesley left behind.
And a part of that responsibility—for lack of a better word—is balancing Gage. As I told her before, she doesn’t need my permission to be with him. That’s her choice.
Here’s the thing: I like Remi. I actually, really do. But she’s allowed herself to believe in Gage’s charms, that she’s somehow special enough to make the bad-boy of Brighton Saints fall for her, and I have a difficult time respecting that.
Young girls. They have a lot to learn.
Gage and I may have our “issues” to overcome—but he will always first belong to me. In love and hate, peace and war, we are bound. She needs to learn her place sooner rather than later.
She is the mistress.
She’s here to keep him entertained while Mommy and Daddy plot the future.
“I know what you need,” I tell her, before I stand and head toward the door. I know what we all need.
A tension breaker.
When I offered to be the proxy that night on the Skype chat, I was close, but I was just a smidgen off. Gage and I together, with no buffer, is like a match to kindling. Too much friction. We’ll burn right through each other, our blaze devouring everything and everyone in our path.
No, I’m not the proxy; Remi is. She’s the safeguard between the two elements.
Admittedly, we attempted something similar before…but in all the wrong ways. Lesley became a chess piece we pushed around our board. If I only could’ve seen her for what she was before it was too late…
In the kitchen, I search for liquid sustenance and find a corked bottle of champagne. After I locate the corkscrew and flutes, I step outside onto the deck. “Gage. I need you for a moment.” I hold up the bottle.
This gains Palmer’s attention, and she shields her eyes against the sun as she looks over. “Are we all invited to your little party?”
I can hear the wounded feelings in her curt tone. I have to be delicate with Palmer; her emotions polarize so quickly. She can go from happy to homicidal in the blink of an eye. And I know that I have some damage control to tend to with her after last night—but that will just have to wait.
“Not yet, Palm,” I say. “Trying to make her comfortable first.” I blow her a kiss, but she just goes back to sunning on the lounge.
Wow. The rare Palmer brushoff.
This needs to be remedied soon.
Gage walks my way. He’s removed his shirt and glasses, and is wearing only his swim trunks. “It’s a little early to start day drinking, don’t you think?”
I cock my head. When he’s close enough and out of earshot of the others, I say, “What I think, is that if you hadn’t tried to fuck her to death, she wouldn’t be so sore.”
His mouth kicks up into a knowing grin. “So this is for your pet.”
My pet. I bite back my retort. “Do you want to play or not
?” I turn to go. “I was trying to make amends…but I can have fun all on my own.”
He grabs my arm. “I thought we called a truce?”
I look down at his fingers digging into my skin. He releases me. “Dear friend, this is my truce face.” I scowl at him, and he laughs.
But I see the bulge already forming in his shorts. Gage may be cunning, but he’s just as easy to control as any other boy when it comes down to it.
He moves closer and grazes his hand down my arm, touching the imprints of his fingers. “What about your request for no more games…”
I shrug. “This isn’t a game,” I say truthfully. “Remi wants you. And I want to give her what she wants.”
He eyes me warily for a moment, then relents. He takes the bottle of champagne and the tool. “Lead the way, princess.”
Remi is submerged in the bath when I return. I pause at the doorway and adjust the bathroom lighting, dimming the overhead can lights and illuminating the tub.
“That’s a cool effect,” Remi says as she sits forward. Her gaze dances between me and Gage, and she wraps her arms around her knees.
“Oh, no need for shyness now,” I say, pinning my hair up off my shoulders with a clip. “That went out the window last night.”
Gage sets a filled champagne glass on the tub before he settles beside it on the marble floor. “She’s ruthless, isn’t she?” He takes a sip of the champagne, then offers the glass to Remi. “That’s why she has to be handled as such.”
I kick his backside teasingly. “For that, you only get to watch.”
Gage groans. “What am I being punished for now?”
I look at Remi and raise an eyebrow in challenge.
She lifts her chin, stepping into the sparring match. “For your behavior last night,” she says, her voice level. “Have you apologized to Sawyer yet?”
I smile; I can’t help it. She’s playing right into her part and has absolutely no idea. It’s all fun and games…until it’s not.
Gage, on the other hand, is enjoying the power struggle. Had Remi ended up being as docile as Lesley, he would get bored easily. He rests his elbow on the lip of the tub and sulks playfully. “Fine. I accept my punishment.”
I reach behind my neck and untie the straps of my bikini top, then step out of the bottoms. I toss the suit toward the corner of the bathroom as I step into the large tub behind Remi. The blue lighting of the jets illuminates the sudsy water, giving the whole room a soft, neon glow.
“Since this is your friend’s yacht,” I say to Gage, “can you figure out how to play music?”
He pulls out his phone and taps on an app. Curious. He’s synced to the damn yacht? Who is this person? I make a mental note to Google the name of the yacht later.
Gage selects a sultry song with heavy bass and a woman singer. “Perfect,” I say. I play with Remi’s hair, twirling it into a bun, as she fans her hand through the bubbles. The cross tattoo on her back is lit up by the blue light, sexy and haunting all at once.
She takes a sip of the champagne and offers the glass to me. “I’m fine,” I say. “Why don’t you tell me what will make you feel good?”
I watch her skin pebble with gooseflesh, and I whisper near her ear, “It’s just like the Skype chat. Except this time, Gage can join you if you want.”
She’s silent for a long beat, and I wonder—not for the first time—how inexperienced she really is. There’s still so much I don’t know about her.
So when she turns to face me and makes the first move, I’m honestly impressed. Remi places her hand on my thigh and leans into me, kissing along my neck. This bold move actually turns me on, and I let her take the lead, so she can go at her own pace. Maybe that’s what she really needs. After last night, having been practically ravaged, this could be the best thing for her, to take back some of her control.
I peek over at Gage as Remi’s hand delicately glides up my leg. He’s transfixed, as well, his features no longer playful. That deep hunger burns in his blue eyes.
Remi pulls away a little to look at me, and I’m reminded of the soft feel of her lips. I might have sacrificed a piece of myself for the sake of the game, but I don’t regret kissing her. I gave it up willingly—and maybe she wasn’t completely off base as to my reasoning. Still, when it comes down to it, I’m not a martyr. I’m not a saint.
I see it in her eyes. She knows that, regardless of what transpired last night or what’s happening in this tub, kissing me now isn’t a wise idea with Gage so near. Instead, she dips down and presses her mouth to my nipple, twirling her tongue over the peaked bud. I suck in lavender-laced air through my teeth. I put my hand over hers, encouraging her to travel higher, toward the apex of my thighs.
“Fuck,” Gage curses.
My eyes snap to him. “No,” I warn. “You do not get to get off right now. Tell him, Remi.”
Her hand stills as she looks his way. “How would he?”
A laugh slips free. “You wouldn’t believe the things this boy can do with his body.” I shake my head. “He’s trained his dick to come on command.”
Remi laughs. “What? Are you serious?”
Gage smiles shamelessly. “It’s called tantric sex. It’s all about control. Don’t mock it, Saw. You could use a little control yourself.”
I narrow my gaze at him. “Remi’s the boss right now,” I say. “You have to do what she says.”
He bites his lip and pleads with Remi with his eyes, giving her his most pathetic face. Unbelievable. I wonder how long she’ll fall for his bullshit.
“You have to wait,” she says.
I beam at her. Good girl.
For that, I slide down a little and press her hand to my pussy. “Can you make me come?” I ask her.
Her fingers are unsure as she touches me; I can sense her hesitation. But she’s a quick learner, and she remembers the way I touched her on my bed. How I started slowly, just slipping my finger along her slit to make her wet.
A girl’s touch is so different than a guy’s—it’s not a preference one way or another, it’s just different. It’s gentle, more teasing. Tender. Special. When the pad of her finger eases inside me, I actually tremble from the anticipation. I arch my back, pressing my breasts against hers, and pull her closer.
I spread my legs, allowing her to seat herself comfortably in front of me, my thighs draped over hers. She moves in to kiss my neck, her free hand planted against the tub, as I arch upward and undulate my hips, encouraging her finger to ease deeper.
Her breathing intensifies as our movements become more urgent. The bath water sloshes as it rises and falls with our thrusts toward each other. She becomes brave and sinks two fingers inside me, using her thumb to add pressure to my clit.
“That’s it,” I say, breathless. “That feels so good.” I squeeze my eyes closed and latch on to her shoulder. Her skin is soft, her frame delicate. It’s like making love to myself in a way. She listens to my body’s cues, going slowly, predicting what I crave, what I want next.
“This is fucking torture,” Gage says.
“Ignore him.” I run my hands along her back, my fingertips treading lightly over the scars that cross her skin.
Remi presses her fingers hard to the bundle of nerves within my core that cause me to clench, my muscles flex…I’m already close. I can feel the orgasm hovering just on the edge.
Her mouth surrounds my nipple again, stimulating every nerve ending, and I buck against her hand. I feel the hard pull in my lower back and my thighs press against her waist…
Then suddenly the delicious feeling is gone.
I hear the gasp, and my eyes snap open to see Gage scooping Remi into his arms. “I think I’ve suffered enough,” he says, his voice gravel.
“The fuck, Gage?” I sit forward, my body wound tight and agitated with lack of release. “Where are you taking her?”
His large arms cradle Remi close to his bare chest as he pushes the door open with his foot. “To the bed so I can bury myself in her
sweet pussy.”
She laughs at that, and I blow a loose strand of hair from my eye. So much for a truce. Gage enjoys his games too much to ever change for me. That’s why now, more than ever, I can’t let him get close.
I rinse off and stand, reaching for the towel hanging along the wall and drape it around my body. As I stand in the doorway, watching Gage cover his body over Remi, kissing her with no hesitation… I feel torn.
A part of me wants to join them and not hold back. Just let Gage win. Let him bury himself inside me and have his way. It would feel good in the moment. It would satisfy every wanton craving and hunger pain.
And he knows this. That’s exactly why he interfered just a moment ago.
The other part of me wants to grab Rush and mount him right in front of Gage and fuck him senseless.
But how many times have I done just that? That ploy has lost its power. Gage is desensitized. The one thing I had over him was my kiss, and I utilized that weapon last night.
I start toward the bedroom door, my gaze lingering on their bodies grinding against each other, and another thought occurs.
Could Gage really care about Remi? He fought so hard to have her accepted into his society. More than just her resemblance to Lesley, there’s a reason he chose her—one that he’s keeping hidden from even me. And it’s important to him.
So important, I’d wager, that it would cost him something vital to lose her.
Chapter 4
Remi
Gage crawls up my body, unfastening his boardshorts as his body covers mine. I glimpse his hard cock as he lowers his shorts, and my heart beats erratically in my chest.
This is what I wanted before. Last night, when Gage sank into me, this is the feeling that I yearned for; the feeling of just the two of us together. And now that it’s here, I can’t quiet my head or my heart.
His palm roams up my thigh as he seats himself between my legs. The heaviness of his body weight pressing down on top of mine has a calming effect, a comfort.
He kisses right below my ear, his other hand holding my neck as his fingers splay into my wet hair. “Jesus,” he says, his voice gruff against my skin, “you were so fucking hot in there. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting you.”
