The first thing she did after she’d opened the door was gasp. “Oh my God! What happened?”
Genuine confusion filled Gage’s expression. “What are you talking about?”
She touched his face without thinking, and he winced when her fingers skimmed the bruise marring his left cheekbone. “Oh, right. That. Don’t worry about it. Just a bruise.”
“Did you get in a fight?” Her concern levels remained on high as she grabbed his hand and ushered him into the living room.
He spared a glance at his surroundings, unfazed by the sparse amount of furniture. “I fought in a match tonight.” He shrugged. “My opponent was kind of a dick.”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought you retired.”
“Not really.” He didn’t offer any more details.
Jeez. She’d probably have better luck extracting answers from a CIA operative.
“You’re wearing pink again.”
The gruff observation made her grin. “Sharp as a tack, aren’t you, big guy?”
Amusement twinkled in his gray eyes, but they darkened seductively as he examined her pink tank top and matching boxer shorts. “I’ve never hung out with a girl in pink PJs before.”
“No? What do the women you know usually wear to bed?”
He smirked. “Nothing at all.”
“They’re lucky, then. I can’t sleep naked. My butt and boobs get too cold.”
Gage barked out a laugh, then stepped forward and pulled her in for a kiss.
Shock waves hit her the moment their lips met. God, she loved kissing him. Loved that he didn’t try to drown her in saliva or gnash her with his teeth. Everything he did was deliberate and skillful, from the firm press of his lips to the sensual swirl of his tongue. She moaned against his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip as heat spread through her and settled in her core.
“Fuck.” He jerked them apart. “Bedroom?”
“Upstairs.” Smiling impishly, she moved toward the doorway. “Coming?”
The predatory gleam in his eyes sparked a flurry of shivers. He followed her to the hall, his muscular frame towering over her. The man radiated pure power and potent masculinity, and the bruise on his face only added to the dangerous vibes he was emitting.
They didn’t speak as they climbed the stairs. Skyler felt his breath tickling the nape of her neck, but he didn’t touch her, not even when they entered her bedroom. Though they were alone in the house, she still closed the door out of habit, and then sank down on the edge of the mattress.
Gage didn’t join her. He lingered at the foot of the bed, his smoky eyes containing a hint of hesitation, as if he was waiting for her to direct him.
“Take off your clothes,” she told him.
The corners of his mouth crinkled in a smile. “You really want to see me naked, huh?”
“I’m dying to.” She flashed him her sweetest look. “Pretty please?”
She half expected him to make her beg—he seemed to enjoy doing that—but before she could blink, he pulled his hoodie right over his head. That left him in a wifebeater and jeans, though it didn’t take long for those to disappear too, right along with his sneakers, socks, and boxers.
Her jaw dropped as sleek golden skin and sculpted muscles assaulted her vision. His body was incredible, long limbs and hard sinew and not a single ounce of fat anywhere on him. Her gaze lowered to his cock, which jutted out enticingly, so long and thick it made her heart pound, the loud drumming drowning out the sound of the TV.
“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes,” she sputtered. “I’m serious. There needs to be a law against it.”
He chuckled. “You’re liable to give me an ego.”
“You’re liable to make me come just from looking at you.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, baby.” His hand drifted down his chest, palm splaying over his rippled abs, perilously close to his cock. “Now what? You want me to stand here naked? Put on a show for you?”
A strangled sound escaped her lips.
“Oh yeah. You like that idea.” Smirking, he curled his large fist around his erection and gave it a slow pump.
Heat suffused Skyler’s body. God, was this actually happening? Was she seriously watching the sexiest man in the world touch himself in front of her?
Yep, she was, because no way did she have the kind of dirty imagination required to make something like this up.
Her gaze followed the erotic movement of his hand, noting the way he squeezed the head of his c**k on each upward stroke, the rough grip he kept around his shaft.
“Can I…” Her throat bobbed in a desperate swallow, mouth so dry it was like talking through a wad of sand. “Can I suck your cock?”
A groan ripped out of his throat.
“Is that a yes?”
“C’mere,” he growled.
She slid off the bed and scrambled to her knees in front of him. Her mouth wasn’t dry anymore. It had filled with moisture, lips tingling with anticipation as she rested both hands on his muscular thighs. The wiry hairs there tickled her palms, and his erection seemed to thicken right before her eyes, a pearly drop forming at the tip.
Shivering, she leaned in and swiped her tongue over his engorged head.
His whole body shuddered from the tiny, barely there lick. “I don’t deserve this,” he mumbled.
Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “What do you mean?”