“No.”
“Say it.”
A slow grin tugs at my lips. “No.” He dives his cock inside, stretching me in the most delicious way, but pulls back out, making me push my wrists against his grip. “Come on! Don’t tease me!”
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes!!!”
“Then say it.”
“I just did.”
“Beg me.”
I start laughing, and he shuts me up with a kiss that sends shockwaves of pleasure throughout my body.
He rises up, and I demand, “Tell me why you taste minty!”
“Right before you woke up.”
“Not fair!”
“You’re fine. I just passed it on to you. Now beg me to fuck you.”
“No!”
He starts laughing, and shakes his head, “Okay,” letting me go, even rolling off of me.
“Hey!”
Stretching his naked body, Gage groans like it’s a new day, time to get up.
Not cool.
I reach for his cock and he swats my hand away. “I’m almost out of coffee. Should probably go to the store.”
“Gage!”
He starts to get up. I latch myself onto his broad back, but am wrestled off quicker than I can believe.
Frustrated, stubborn and unsatisfied, I stare as he walks to his closet. The threat of clothing forces out my whispered, “Please.”
Gage cups his ear, bedhead-hair pointing every which way. “What’s that?”
I roll my eyes. “Please.”
“Huh.”
“What, huh? Huh what???!”
He returns to the closet even though he’s rock hard. “Doesn’t sound convincing, Cherry.”
I fling myself onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and screaming into it. As I throw it, I see his smirk, and that body, and those crocodiles. There is no way I’m letting him go downstairs without feeling his length again!
On all fours I crawl to the end of the bed, ass like a cat’s, whispering a hesitant, “Please fuck me.”
He hikes an eyebrow, gaze raking over my form as he palms his thick cock. “What’d you say?”
Watching him stroke himself fires raises my volume and lowers my inhibition. “Please fuck me, Crocodiles.”
“What?”
“Please, please fuck me!”
With a primal groan he steps closer to my outstretched arm. I cover his hand with mine, bend to take his cock into my mouth, sucking the tip while we stroke him together. My hips sway, breasts, too, eyes shut until he tackles me.
Rough.
Hungry.
Primitive.
The pressure of his weight, his grip, his thighs, his cock, all of it softens me into submission while we fuck, flames licking my pussy, engorging my clit into an aching heartbeat.
Everything fades.
There is only this moment.
This man.
This love.
I feel him tense as he holds back, and I tell him, “Please cum, Gage! I will if you will. I’m on the edge. You’re so hard right now! So big!” Something every man wants to hear no matter his size.
He roars.
Lets go.
Gives in.
Crashes his lips into mine.
Moves his hips with skill that teases my orgasm out from hiding. Tiny bursts explode, giving way to thick spasms contracting around his length, pulses that compell him to thrust harder, deeper, growling in my ear the whole time. I claw into his wide back, my legs tense, clit pulsing, inner thighs soaked.
Gasping for air, we hold onto each other, a mass of satisfied flesh, his face buried under my earlobe. “Move in with me, Cherry.”
My eyes pop. “What?!”
“I want to wake up to you every day.”
He eases out of me, climbs out of bed, and guides me toward a shower.
As he turns on the faucet, hot water not yet here, I brush my teeth, mind racing. Samantha. Zoe. Ralphie May and Sally Ashes.
Through the foam I say aloud, “House Three.”
With running water as our soundtrack — both shower and sink — Gage comes up behind me, our eyes locking in the mirror’s reflection. “Think about it.”
Rinsing out my mouth, I bend and press my ass into his resting cock, “Okay,” and turn off the sink faucet, leaving only one source of natural music left.
He turns me around, crocodiles amused. “You’re here almost every night. And if you’re not, I’m over there. I’ve been waiting until Sam met someone to ask you.”
“Steve isn’t her someone.”
“He might be.”
I burrow into Gage’s naked chest. “He can’t be.”
“Don’t you like him?”
“Sure, he’s great. Super cute. Loves her. Good guy.”
“Yeah, I like him. We get along great. Good at darts.”
“You haven’t met Logan.”
Gage lightly chuckles, “You mean the guy with the girlfriend?”
I sigh, thinking about the move-in-with-me invite because it’s true, Sammy’s not there very much, and neither is Zoe.
He kisses my head, takes my hand, “We can wait,” and leads me to a shower like all of the others we share. In here together, we never rush. It’s an unspoken rule, so much so that when I’m in a hurry I don’t let him in. He picked up my cue and does the same, if he’s gotta rush off.
We don’t want it to stale, or for us to take for granted bathing together — its sexiness, its care, its bonding intimacy where nothing else matters but us. It gets so busy out in the world, so many distractions. I instinctively protected these moments to keep our connection strong and passionate, and he went along with me. If he hadn’t, I’d have told him why I like to shower alone when I’m pressed for time — explaining that I want to keep our showers sexy would have vanished any argument he may have had. Who doesn’t want a great sex life?
And this is exactly what I tell my mom over lunch the next day. Turns out, she agrees.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
GAGE
Bonus Scene 3
A s I approach the table where Lexi and her mother are having lunch, I overhear Sarah Cocker — a curly-haired redhead with a sharper tongue than her daughter’s — say at normal volume despite nearby tables able to overhear, “Keeping things hot in the bed department — or in your case,
