His finger skipped down her skin, from her shoulder, past her bare breasts, to the curve of her belly and beyond.
“What do you know?” He hooked one finger around the strap of her red lace thong. “You do wear sexy undies.”
“What did you think I wore? Prison warden underpants?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Kinda.”
“Oh, you!” She tickled him lightly in the ribs.
The next thing she knew, Gage was wearing her panties on his head. They were laughing and gasping and kissing and nuzzling.
“Janet,” he murmured, his eyes glazed as he stared at her body, mesmerized. “You’re incredible.”
“So are you,” she said and meant every word. He was everything she’d never dared dream of. Everything and so much more. Nothing had ever felt so great.
And things quickly got a lot better.
She emitted a low cry of pleasure when Gage lowered his head and touched his hot, wet tongue to her moist, feminine heat. He suckled, tasted, feasted, then drove her madly, wildly into a soul-screaming orgasm.
Limply, she panted and crooned his name like a mantra. Methodically, he kissed his way back up her belly, not missing a single spot on his journey to her nipples.
Once there, he laved the tender flesh with the tip of his raspy tongue, abrading her gently with a steady pressure that had her crying out once more and grabbing fistfuls of his hair in her hands.
She quivered and a fresh heat coiled in the pit of her belly. The coil built and grew until she wound as tight as a new watch, her entire body thrumming with energy.
She wanted him inside her. Filling her up.
And she told him so.
“Wait,” he panted. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” Startled and aching with a sharp need, she rose up on her elbows.
“No condom.”
“Check the pocket of my pants.”
He grinned. “You sly vixen, you.”
They made love on the kitchen floor. Below her, the tile pressed cool against her naked back. Above her, Gage’s hard muscled flesh sizzled hot against her naked front.
From the kitchen they moved to the living room, changing positions and doing outstanding things in a chair that made Janet yell with unbridled enjoyment.
Couch pillows flew. Gage pulled her into his lap and lowered her onto his burgeoning erection.
Ride ’em, cowgirl.
The houseboat swayed in its moorings. The thick ropes holding the boat in place creaked.
Perspiration slicked their bodies. The musky scent of their lovemaking filled the air. Their kisses were furious, hard, wonderful. In all his thirty-five years, Gage had never experienced the like.
He wanted to push himself deeper inside her until they merged forever. No longer two separate people, but one.
Harder, faster. Their passion for each other escalated, pushing them over the edge into uncharted territory.
Yearning, burning, they couldn’t get enough.
He’d never known lovemaking could be like this. Never realized just how complex his Janet was. She’d been holding herself in reserve for so long, keeping her emotions at bay. Was it any wonder that when the woman finally let loose, she let go in a big way?
And he’d been the one to release her passion. His heart swelled with pride.
Incredible.
He felt as if he’d received a treasure more precious than French truffles.
She was his every fantasy come to life. This was what he had been missing, yet secretly longing for. An equal, a partner, a woman whose sexual appetites matched his own.
14
They went through one condom, two, and three and all the rooms in the houseboat. If the rain outside had been sprinkles instead of a deluge, he knew they would have made love on the outside deck, too. As it was, they finally ended up in the bedroom two hours later, exhausted and spent.
Gage pulled her snugly against him, her bottom pressed into his hips. He wrapped one muscular arm around her waist and curled his body around her like a protective shell.
No man had ever cherished her, revered her, treasured her this way, Janet realized. Sated, she lay there listening to the soft sounds of his breathing and reveling in their closeness.
Just before she drifted off to sleep, she came to one stunning conclusion.
Never, had she ever, been so happy.
For two days it rained, and for those days and nights they made love. It was romantic—a sweet seduction in the bathtub, complete with bubbles and candles and expensive champagne. At other times, like the first night, it was fierce—or scientific. It was playful. A romp in a tent set up on the living room floor. First, they role-played island girl and sailor. Then later, head cheerleader and quarterback lost in the wilderness. Later still it was the old boss and secretary trope.
They showered together, sponging each other’s bodies. They rifled through Dr. Jackson’s extensive CD collection and ending up dancing to everything from Sinatra to Tommy Dorsey to the Rolling Stones to Flo Rida.
They played strip poker and strip Go Fish and strip Old Maid. Giggling like teenagers, they hand-fed each other. Strawberries and cream. Oysters and olives. Chocolate and honey. Whatever sexy things they could find in the refrigerator.
Janet simply could not get enough of him. They made love, ate, slept, and made love some more. Gage painted her toenails, and then they made love. Gage gave her a massage, and then they made love. Gage brushed her hair, and then they made love.
And she let him.
“I want to pamper you, Janet,” he murmured. “You’ve been deprived too long and you deserve it.”
At first, it was difficult, letting herself relax and feel comfortable with Gage tending to her every whim. It was hard for her to fathom a man who wanted to meet her needs, but as his fingers rubbed her skin, as he industriously applied Luminescent Red to her toenails, as he gently slid the brush over her scalp, she slowly gave way to the splendid indulgence of being spoiled.
Thirty years of repressed sexuality erupted from her like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Hot, spectacular, blisteringly bright. Nothing in her experience had ever compared
