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Page 32
Page 32
Still stroking him, she brought her mouth to his for a kiss. His tongue dived through her parted lips and tangled with hers, his hips lifting restlessly as he thrust his c**k into her hand.
God, she loved kissing him. Touching him. Watching him come apart.
She let out a disappointed moan when he intercepted her hand, firmly moving it off him. “You never let me have fun,” she complained.
“And you always put my pleasure ahead of yours,” he said roughly.
“That’s because I like pleasing you!”
“Yeah, well, I like pleasing you, too. So be quiet and enjoy.” His hand traveled south and stroked her mound, fingers lightly teasing the hood of her clit.
Skyler sighed happily. “Feels so good when you touch me.”
“Feels so good to touch you.” As he stroked her in a lazy rhythm, his gray eyes burned with what could only be described as adoration.
His middle finger rubbed little circles over her clit, slow and sweet until the pressure between her legs reached an all-time high, causing her to squirm in agitation.
His chuckle fanned over her cheek. “Getting close?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
He moved his hand lower, one long finger sliding inside her as his thumb applied steady pressure on her clit. She cried out when an orgasm swept through her in pulsing ripples, rocking into his hand until the shock waves faded into a warm, delicious afterglow.
Afterward, she nestled against his warm, muscular body, exhaling slowly as that feeling of serenity returned. But even as he pressed a kiss on the top of her head, even as he stroked her hair and held her close, she knew he was still holding back.
Would he ever allow himself to be truly vulnerable around her? Sometimes she wondered. His father and brother had done a number on him, affected his ability to trust anyone but himself, but God, she wished he could trust her enough to fully let her in.
“Gage?”
“Yeah?”
“What are we doing here?”
She felt his chest tense. “What do you mean?”
“You said you don’t do relationships, but…well, we’ve been seeing each other for more than a month.” She hesitated, then forced herself to be honest. “This is more than sex to me.”
“I know.” His voice was husky.
“Are we together? Like, officially together?”
She held her breath as she waited for his answer. As badly as she wanted to hear him say yes, she had to wonder if maybe she was forcing things. Fighting for a relationship that was bound to go nowhere. Gage wasn’t one of those safe, dependable guys she usually dated, and she couldn’t help but feel like she might be in for some major heartbreak.
And yet when he gave a response, she couldn’t stop the burst of happiness that went off inside her.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, we’re together.”
Her heart did a little somersault. “Good. I like that.”
His fingers stroked her hair with infinite tenderness. “Me, too.”
Chapter Twelve
As another busy Friday night came to a close, Gage dragged himself up to his office, dead on his feet. He’d broken up five fights tonight, tossed four troublemakers out on their asses, called cabs for half a dozen drunk patrons, and to top it all off, stumbled on a trio of high punks who claimed to have bought the drugs from Sin. Gage and his men still hadn’t found the person selling E in the club. Whoever it was had slowed down for a while, but evidently he was back in business.
Exhausted, Gage quickly signed off on his bouncers’ shift logs, then wandered down the hall toward Reed’s office, wishing like hell he was seeing Skyler tonight. She’d wanted him to come by after work, but he’d insisted that she deserved to go to bed at a reasonable time for a change. They were able to spend time together during the day and on weeknights when the club closed at eleven, but he didn’t leave Sin before 3:00 a.m. on the weekends, and he felt bad making her wait up for him.
He knew he’d feel even worse come September—Skyler would be busier then, starting her practicum and seeing patients under the supervision of a licensed psychologist. He’d already vowed not to let his crazy hours affect her ability to work, even if it meant not seeing her as often.
Gage popped his head in the doorway and found Reed at his desk. Still an odd sight, even though he’d had two years to get used to it. Reed was a man of action, so office work seemed completely unsuited for the guy. He tended bar on occasion, but AJ was the one who worked the bar on a nightly basis, while Reed took care of the business end of things.
“I’m heading out,” Gage told his partner. “Everything good here?”
Reed glanced up from a mountain of paperwork. “I’m good. Just double-checking these numbers, and then Jerry and I are going to look through some of the old security tapes. We’re hoping we might catch our pesky E pusher on tape.”
“Let me know if you find anything.”
“Will do. ’Night, bro.”
“’Night.”
Gage left the club through the staff door, rummaging in his pocket as he walked. He wasn’t using his e-cig nearly as often anymore, but the craving for nicotine still called to him. He’d been smoking since he was fifteen—worst frickin’ mistake of his life—and he was longing for the day when that edgy I-need-a-smoke feeling finally left him for good.
He’d just pulled out the e-cigarette when he heard the footsteps.
Gage’s spine went ramrod straight as the shadowy group slunk into the alley. He narrowed his eyes. Eight or so men, and he recognized the ones in front.