Marriage Made on Paper (16 page)

“Gage,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and taking his lips with hers. She’d missed him, much more than she’d realized, much more than she wanted to face.

He backed her up against the wall, the kiss growing urgent, hungry. She gripped the knot of his tie and jerked it hard to the side, loosening it so that she could reach the top button of his dress shirt and unfasten it with her shaking fingers.

She slid her hand inside his shirt, curling her fingers when she came into contact with his hot, hard flesh. He growled and gripped her hips, drawing her tightly against him. There was no restraint in him this time. Always before, he’d held back, but now he was unleashed and she was experiencing the full force of his desire. She gripped the edges of his shirt and tugged, sending buttons scattering across the elevator floor.

She slid her hands down his stomach, over his perfect ab muscles. He was so beautiful to her. Her heart thundered and she felt an intense well of emotion stir in her stomach, mingling with the intense desire to have him inside of her, to be joined to him again.

Gage gripped the sides of her dress and bunched it up in his hands, and Lily felt the hem rise higher. “Are you trying to kill me, Lily?” he groaned when his hands made contact with the bare space of skin between her black thigh-high stockings and her thong panties.

“That wasn’t my goal. If you’re dead you’ll be of no use to me.”

He laughed wickedly and kissed the curve of her neck, his fingers edging beneath the thin fabric of her
underwear. She gasped when he moved his fingers over her clitoris.

“Is that good?” he asked, his lips brushing against her sensitized skin.

She could only nod as he continued to work magic on her with his hands. He slid one finger inside of her and felt a surge of pleasure, a tightening in her pelvis that she knew meant her climax was about to crash in on her.

“Come for me,” he whispered, adding a second finger, and she was powerless to do anything but obey.

She gripped his shoulders, her hands still beneath his destroyed shirt, her nails grazing his sweat-slicked back.

When she finally came back to reality she realized they were still in the elevator.

“I stopped it,” he said, gesturing to the control panel.

She adjusted her dress and patted her hair with a shaking hand. “Good.” She had forgotten. She’d forgotten everything but how much she wanted him. She’d forgotten self-preservation, common decency, everything.

And she couldn’t regret it. Not yet. Because even though her body was still tingling with the aftereffects of her orgasm, she wanted more. She wanted him. All of him.

He pushed the button for the top floor and the elevator began to move again. When they reached the top floor he keyed in a code and the doors slid open, revealing an extremely masculine, modern apartment space.

She stepped out of the lift on wobbly legs. She felt a slight smile tug at the corners of her mouth. The whole
place was very Gage. Furniture with clean lines, neutrals accentuated by pops of color that reminded her of the beach. It was beautiful and opulent, and surprisingly functional.

It felt more intimate now, being in his home. It was one thing to have an affair at a vacation spot, but another to actually come into where he lived. To sleep in his bed.

Panic nibbled at her, her stomach about to explode in a flurry of nerves. But then Gage put his arm around her and dipped his head to give her a light kiss on the lips, and she couldn’t worry anymore. Relationships, feelings, commitment, all of it scared her, made her want to run. But Gage didn’t. Somehow, no matter what the feelings between them were, she couldn’t be afraid of him.

“Would you like something to drink?”

She laughed. “Not yet. We have unfinished business.” She looked at him, at his gaping shirt that was still tucked into his slacks. “I like the look,” she said.

“I was attacked by a shameless hussy in an elevator,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the hallway.

He had pictures on his wall. School pictures of Maddy. Her high school and graduation pictures. It hit her again what a wonderful man he was, the things that he chose to hide. Part of her wanted to find out everything, but so much of her wanted to ignore everything she already knew, and didn’t want to find out any more. This was about sexual satisfaction, a slight extension on their fling’s deadline. This wasn’t about finding out what an incredible person he was.

His bedroom was a definite man cave. A large bed, wall-mounted TV and very little else. Not the den of
seduction she’d always imagined. She’d sort of thought he might be the type to have a Jacuzzi tub and a stripper pole in the middle of his bedroom. She was relieved to see she’d been wrong. Not that it should matter.

He shrugged his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor, his slacks and underwear following. She reached around to grab the zipper tab on her dress.

“Wait a second,” he said, coming toward her. “Let me.”

He turned her around gently so that she was facing away from him, his hands possessive on her hips. She leaned back against him, reveling in his heat, his strength. In him.

He slid his hands up beneath her dress and gripped her panties, dragging them down her legs. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside, trying to make sure they didn’t get caught on her heels.

He moved his hands to her waist, slid them over her hips, back up to her breasts, not really touching, not the way she wanted. It was as though he was tracing her curves, memorizing her shape.

Then he slowly pulled the zipper down and she let her dress fall to the floor. A masculine groan of appreciation rumbled in his chest. “You’re gorgeous,” he groaned. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ll never get enough of looking at you.”

Her heart thundered, her body quivering with desire. “Gage,” she choked out.

“Get on the bed,” he said, his voice rough, commanding, thrilling.

She complied, trying to turn and face him.

“No,” he said, moving behind her and taking one of the pillows from the head of the bed, then another,
stacking them and moving her over them so that her upper body had some support.

Her blood rushed through her veins, hotter, faster. She knew what he was going to do, and it thrilled her, excited her and frightened her, all at the same time.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

She could only nod, the lump in her throat too much for her to speak past. But she did trust him. In this moment she did. She was giving him more than she’d ever given to anyone else, and as much as it scared her, it also felt as necessary as breathing.

She heard him tearing a condom packet, protecting them both, as he always did. She was grateful for that. She knew a lot of men didn’t care enough to do that, but Gage never acted as though it was a sacrifice, as though it should be up to her.

She felt the blunt head of his erection probing her slick entrance.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she managed to choke out.

He thrust inside of her, deep, deeper than she’d ever felt him before. She curled her fingers around the bedspread, trying to hold back the hoarse cry of pleasure that was climbing her throat.

He held her hips tightly, his movements strong and sure, nothing tentative about his claiming of her body. Because that was what it felt like. It was more elemental than their other times together, and in a lot of ways, she had less control. She was at his mercy, and yet she couldn’t be afraid of him, and he wasn’t harming her, he was only giving to her. Giving her pleasure while he took his own. While they shared in it.

He reached around and stroked the source of her desire. Already she could feel another orgasm building,
this one stronger, more intense. She whimpered, and clenched the comforter tighter, the tension too much for her to bear because she knew when it broke she would shatter with it.

She felt his muscles start to shake, felt his fingers dig into her hips. He was close, too.

“Lily,” he said, as he went over the edge.

His fingers worked her faster and she followed him, her body tightening around him as he pulsed inside of her. Their orgasm went on and on, blended together until she was sure they were feeling the same thing. Until it almost felt as though they were one body.

And when it was over, he turned her and took her in his arms so that she was facing him, so that he could brush her hair out of her face, his other hand continually sliding over her curves.

“Did you like that?” he asked. There was no arrogance in his voice. He didn’t behave as though he already knew the answer, he wanted to know. And that made her heart squeeze tightly in her chest. Gage wasn’t the kind of man who questioned himself, and that he would do it for her … it was impossible to feel nothing.

“Very much. It was incredible.”

He circled her waist with his arms, bringing her closer, and she curved her leg over his thigh. They just lay there for a moment, catching their breath, letting their heart rates return to normal.

“This isn’t the way I pictured your bedroom,” she said finally.

“Really? What did you picture?”

“Stripper pole.”

He laughed and kissed her hair. “Sorry to disappoint. For you, I would have one installed, trust me. The possibilities are fascinating.”

She smiled against his shoulder. Surprisingly, the idea of putting herself on display for him like that didn’t horrify her in the least. How could it when they’d shared so much?

“I don’t bring women here,” he said.

“Could have fooled me.”

“You’re actually the first woman I’ve had here since Maddy came to live with me. I got used to conducting my affairs away from my home. I don’t even have them in my own hotels.”

“Why is that?”

His body tensed slightly. “Probably for the same reason we both live alone.”

“Then why … why did you bring me here?”

He shrugged. “You’re different. I know you. I was feeling very impatient.”

Her stomach tightened. His words thrilled her and scared her. She was different. He knew her. He had brought her back to his apartment, a place he didn’t bring other women.

She wasn’t supposed to be different. She was supposed to be another in a long string of purely physical affairs, a woman he wouldn’t want anything from. And she was supposed to feel the same way about him. He wasn’t supposed to matter.

Of course she liked him, but there couldn’t be anything beyond that.

She should get up. Get dressed and go home. He would probably expect it. He should expect it. It was different when they were both staying in Thailand. But here in San Diego they both had their own houses, their own space.

But he was still cradling her against his chest, and for some reason, even though he was the source of her
fear, he was also a source of comfort. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. Nothing had changed. It was just a part of their fling. It couldn’t be anything more.

“I
THOUGHT
you could use some.” Gage held a mug of coffee out to Lily and she sat up straighter in the bed, letting the covers fall around her waist.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it and inhaling the heavenly scent. She was such an addict, but at least he understood. Understood and shared in it.

It was an interesting reversal of their morning routine. And an interesting setting for it. She’d always thought there was an undercurrent of domesticity in their office routine, but this took it to a whole new level.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his own mug in hand, dressed only in a pair of jeans, his chest still bare. There were certain aspects of this that were a definite improvement to their office mornings.

“What are your plans for the day?” she asked, a little embarrassed once the question had escaped. Was it really any of her business what he was doing? It wasn’t a workday and they didn’t have a real relationship.

“Nothing. A total rarity. Usually I try to visit Maddy on Sunday, but she’s still in Switzerland, and having a lot of fun. She says she’s been totally untouched by the scandal there.”

“That’s great, Gage.” She could see the relief on his
face and it made her feel the same feeling, swelling inside of her. She knew how much he loved Maddy, knew even more now. She felt as though she could feel his emotions sometimes, as though her own matched his.

Gage was enjoying Lily’s newfound boldness in bed. Even now she was sitting up with her breasts bare, acting as though she hardly noticed. He noticed. She was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen naked. And he’d seen his share.

Usually, after a few encounters, the mystery had worn off and he wasn’t as captivated by his lover’s beauty. Or, as was the case when plastic surgery was involved, sometimes a woman actually looked better in her clothes than out of them.

But not Lily. She fascinated him. Clothed or naked, dressed up, or in a bikini.

He kept waiting to regret bringing her back to his apartment, letting her into his personal space. But it hadn’t hit him yet. It felt better, having her here than it would have felt taking her to an anonymous hotel and having sex with her on a bed that was there almost solely for that purpose.

It had never bothered him before. That was how he’d always conducted his affairs. If it weren’t for those years raising his sister, his room may very well have ended up with a stripper pole in it. But he
had
raised his sister, and that had changed things. It had likely changed some things for the better.

He didn’t know what was happening with Lily. Didn’t want to know why it felt right to have her in his home, when he had never wanted to bring another woman here before. Didn’t want to know what it meant that he couldn’t imagine ever tiring of her.

Last night had been the hottest night of his life, hands down. The only other experiences that came close were the other times he’d been with Lily. She wiped memories of other women from his mind. He couldn’t even remember what appeal those other women had ever held. They were too blonde, too tanned, too thin, too surgically enhanced. There was nothing genuine about them.