CHAPTER NINE
My heart was hammering so hard, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Gage could hear it.
Stripping to half-naked in his living room had been a risk. He could have thrown me out on my ass, but I’d seen the way he’d looked at me. There was irritation and frustration there, but not enough to mask the desire that simmered behind it, and as the evening had worn on, that irritation had eased. As I’d pulled my shirt off, I’d just hoped he’d be willing to overlook all the noise and see this for what it was.
Thank Christ he had, because the way it felt to have my body pressed up against his, the heat and strength of his arms around me—it was heady. I kissed the side of his neck, rubbing against him like a cat as his fingers kneaded my ass and rocked me against him in a subtle rhythm.
I clung to him, one hand fisted in his shirt like he might change his mind at any moment and throw me backward onto the floor. But he reached up, his fingers tangling in my hair, and hauled me forward, covering my mouth with his.
He kissed me like he’d die if he didn’t, like his one true path in life was to make me insane with his mouth alone. I’d known a bunch of guys who felt lukewarm about kissing—take it or leave it, as long as they got off, that’s all that mattered.
Gage Emerson was not one of those guys.
He owned me with that kiss, my whole body vibrating with the intensity of it. Everything was centered on us, and nothing else mattered—my father, Westbridge, the blizzard outside. None of it existed when his lips were on me.
I couldn’t move. I wanted more than anything to slide to my knees in front of him, but I couldn’t. He held me against him, his grip tight in my hair as he skimmed his other hand over me. I arched into his touch, his hand dipping lower, the backs of his knuckles dragging along my belly.
He’d had his hands on me before, and afterward, I’d wanted more. It had been impersonal and clinical, and even then I hadn’t wanted him to stop.
There was nothing fucking clinical about this. I moaned as he worked my pants down, button, then zipper; then he was tugging at the waistband until my cock sprang free. Precome painted his shirt as I rubbed against him, sensitive and already perched way, way too close to the edge.
As he wrapped his fist around my cock, I groaned, the even pressure of his hand on me almost enough to send me over. I tipped my head back, giving Gage access to lick and suck at my throat while I rode the rush of lust. He moved his hand, and I hissed out a breath, my head snapping forward so I could meet his eyes with mine.
He stared at me, the intensity in his gaze simmering. I could see the hunger there, the greed that turned me on almost as much as the things Gage was doing to my body. The pleasure was overwhelming. Gage tightened his grip, and I wanted to tell him to stop. I wanted him to slow down, to draw this out, to make it last, but I couldn’t force the words from my throat. My ability to speak was completely drowned by the sensation.
He kissed me again, and I felt my body break apart the moment his lips met mine. He swallowed my ragged cries as I came, heat spilling over his hand. I was still dazed and disoriented when Gage lifted me off him, towering over me as he stood, then grabbed my hands and hauled me to my feet. “Get upstairs,” he commanded as he pushed me forward.
It took a moment for me to get my feet under me, but he was right there at my back, guiding me, his hand splayed across my chest, his erection still straining against me. I stepped up on the first tread and turned, tightening my arms around his neck and taking advantage of the change in angle. With me on the first step, we were almost the same height and I was able to take control a little, kissing him hard and pulling a rumbling moan from him.
He hadn’t come yet, and I knew he was getting desperate, but he kissed me back, fevered and intense. I chased his mouth as he broke the kiss, not wanting it to be over yet, but he shoved me forward, hard enough to get me moving.
“Get upstairs. I have plans for you.”
I resisted the urge to take the steps two at a time, knowing Gage was right behind me. I could almost feel his presence, and I could certainly hear the sound of his breaths, labored and even as he followed me up.
“There, on the left,” he said once we’d reached the landing.
I turned and cocked one eyebrow. “Guess you don’t need to lock your bedroom door after all.”
“You’re still not allowed to watch me sleep.”
He pushed me into the room, then shoved me onto the bed before stripping down. His movements were quick and efficient, and in seconds he was completely naked.
I lay there, propped up on my elbows, just staring. I couldn’t look away. I was absolutely rooted in place, frozen by the sight of his body. He rang my bell fully clothed, but naked? That bell was reverberating all over the place. Jesus Christ. He looked strong and sturdy, with just enough fur on his chest to make things extra interesting. And as my eyes traveled south, my blood pressure spiked.
Holy shit.
“You gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna fuck me?” I was feeling brazen, the dazedness of my first orgasm wearing off. He stalked forward and grabbed the lube and condoms and tossed them on the bed. There was no being coy here, no working up to the main event with gentle foreplay and languid kisses.
I flipped over and felt Gage’s hands on my hips, guiding me to where he wanted me. I shivered, the anticipation boring through my chest.
“Cold?” Even in that single word, I could hear the roughness in his voice.
I shook my head.
“Good.”
I forced the air in and out of my lungs, my body seizing up as I waited for Gage to do something. My muscles tensed, everything tightening up as I heard the familiar sound of foil tearing and a plastic lid popping. Gage’s hand against my lower back helped me to relax as two fingers pushed lube inside me.
I groaned, letting my head fall forward and pressing into the sting of penetration as he worked the slick in. It was so fucking good, so unbelievably good, that everything else faded away and my entire world focused on the way Gage made me feel.
I couldn’t help moving, rocking back against his fingers. My mind checked out and I was operating on pure instinct, chasing the sensation of him filling me up. His fingers were so good, but they weren’t enough—they weren’t what I wanted.
Gage was behind me and I wished I could see his face, but contorting like that, enough to really see him, was more than I was capable of. Instead, I closed my eyes and let the feeling of his fingertips stroking against my prostate wash over me.
“God, Holden, I could watch this all night.”
“Tell me you’re not going to,” I panted. “Please.”
With that, Gage withdrew his fingers. “Don’t move.”
Like I was capable of that. My eyes were still closed, and I couldn’t summon the control to force them open. All I could do was wait. Wait to feel Gage’s hands on me, wait to feel him filling me up. I craved him and we’d barely gotten going. Half a second later, I got what I wanted when I felt the blunt tip of his cock lined up against my entrance. I held still, every cell of my body primed with expectancy, and when Gage pushed inside I gasped.
He didn’t go slow, didn’t work me up to it, and even though I felt like he was splitting me in two, I was grateful. I wanted him so bad, wanted him to make me feel it. There was no room for gentle now, and it seemed like Gage understood that without hearing it.
He thrust all the way in, his hips hitting my ass, pushing me forward. I gripped the sheets tight in my fists and moved back against him. His hands still held me tight as he pulled out and pushed back in again. I moaned each time he drove forward, the overwhelming pleasure forcing sounds out of me I had no control over.
I was incoherent with lust, each stroke inside me making me want more. Pressure built, the first fragments of my orgasm starting to pool together as Gage thrust deeper. He leaned forward, covering my body with his. Releasing my hips, he reached around me, wrapping one hand around my cock. He stroked me with a solid grip, and I didn’t think he could push me any higher until he slid his other hand up, his fingers enclosing my throat.
Keeping his grip tight enough to make me lose my mind, he held me to him as he rocked against me, the tip of his cock grazing my prostate with each thrust.
The sounds of Gage’s ragged breathing raged in my ears. I was barreling toward the end, the sensation too overwhelming, the moment too intense for me to slow myself down. I couldn’t hold on to my control any longer.
“Gage,” I cried, my voice sounding broken as my body spasmed around his and I painted his sheets with come.
He didn’t stop, just wrung every ounce of pleasure from me. I rode with him until his rhythm faltered, and he pushed deep inside me as he came. I was broken—totally boneless—absolutely destroyed. I didn’t know if I’d ever move again. Gage paused, staying close for several long minutes before he carefully pulled out.
I collapsed forward, not giving a shit that I was lying in the wet spot.
I couldn’t think.
Gage Emerson had turned my brain to pulp.
I felt the mattress shift as he stood, and then a minute later it dipped again as he climbed back in behind me. He gathered me against him and I went willingly, my body pliant and drained of energy. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I. It would be hours before the ability to speak returned. For now, I was happy to lie in his arms, basking in the afterglow of some of the best sex I’d ever experienced.
It didn’t matter how much frost painted the windows or how high the snow drifted outside. He was solid and warm, and he held me so close I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel cold again.
This was so much better than sleeping in subzero conditions in the SUV.
I closed my eyes and let the weight of the silence settle over me, but I could already feel my mind start to rush, replaying the last conversation I’d had with my father, and now, with all the new information that had come to light over the last few hours…
I’d come here hoping Gage would change his mind, and now I was glad he wouldn’t. I’d always known my father cared about the bottom line more than anyone else, but to have it demonstrating in such startling clarity was sickening.
Although I wished I’d been able to leave the company on my own terms, I was strangely glad I no longer worked there. But that didn’t solve the problem of what the hell I was going to do now. Did I go home and hope that one of my friends would put me up on their couch? Or did I stay here and live off the land like the Davy Crocket of the north?
Okay, so that was ridiculous. New York was the only real option. And going back wasn’t the end of the world. I could get another job. Somewhere. Some understaffed hospital somewhere was likely to overlook the fact that I’d been fired from the only job I’d ever had.
Right.
I’d call Frankie in the morning.