Chapter Twenty-Five
Jill
The first breath after stepping into my apartment after my pilates class tells me he’s been here. The lingering scent of his warm cologne and leather fills my lungs, it’s delicious.
Gage.
I briefly pause in the entryway to listen and feel—is he still here? I don’t sense him, or anyone else, in here with me. So I toss my keys and purse on the entryway table and walk further into the apartment. My eyes scan the living room and kitchen until they land heavily on the kitchen island.
Four black gift boxes sit on the counter, propped against four large vases of blood-red roses. I bite my bottom lip in a smile of excitement as I approach the display, the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach growing stronger as I get closer.
The flower arrangements are gorgeous, professional, and look very expensive. An envelope sits on the counter with my name written in Gage’s handwriting. Pulling out the card with a flaming heart on the front, I read the note inside.
‘Wear them out for me tonight, and I’ll return the favor.
Xoxo Yours’
I reach for the biggest one of the four gift boxes first. Tugging at the black satin ribbon, I lift the top off the box. I peel the white tissue paper to reveal a carefully folded bundle of gorgeous, rich red fabric. Lifting the dress out of the box, the intricate beading on the scarlet bodice glitters in the light. My smile blooms as I hold it up against my body and turn to look at my reflection in the mirror across the room. The designer dress looks tailored to my measurements perfectly.
Of course it is, Gage picked it out for me.
Stalker.
Next comes the second largest box, which unsurprisingly reveals a pair of black Dior open-toed pumps with a black bow on the back along the simple ankle strap. They’re both sexy and elegant, with an edgy twist—just like me. The third box is a necklace. The choker is made of clear Swarovski crystals, with strings of red gems that hang down like blood trickling down a throat.
The last gift is the smallest, and it takes my breath away when I open it. A lip duo sits inside the box, one lipstick and one lipgloss. The deep, complex color is so stunning, it’s as if it were created just for me—just like the blood it matches. I pull out the lipstick to look at the color name: Crimson Sin.
Gage.
My phone buzzes in my pocket with an incoming call and I don’t have to look to know who’s calling before I answer it. Gage’s deep voice speaks as soon as I press the device to my ear.
“Goddamn, that smile on your face is worth every penny.” I glance around my apartment in an attempt to spot him out of habit, but I don’t see anything. Shocker.
“Stop watching me, or I won’t wear them. I want you to be surprised.”
“I know every inch of your body intimately, and I’ve been fantasizing about seeing that outfit on you all day, little devil.”
“Then I’m sure you’d be pretty disappointed if you never got to see it on me,” I say flatly, pushing my point. Gage’s chuckle travels through the phone and washes over me like warm honey.
“Be ready at seven o’clock, gorgeous,” Gage relents.
“When you open the door, be ready for me.”
“Always.”
When the door swings open, Gage’s body turns to stone. It wouldn’t surprise me if the man’s heart stopped beating in his chest and the breath stilled in his chest. The only movement comes from his eyes as they run over me from head to toe more than once.
I’ve spent the last five hours getting ready for our date tonight. I’m moisturized, plucked, primped, waxed, and fully made up—all just for him. The dress fits like my body was the inspiration, and the shoes couldn’t make my legs look any sexier if they tried. I kept my eye makeup simple to let my bold red lip be the focus, with some smoked-out liner and lashes in what Lana calls my ‘siren eyes.’
I look absolutely irresistible.
“What do you think?” I ask, batting my eyes at him. When he finally moves, his hand runs over his mouth, and he slowly shakes his head.
“I don’t like to give Heaven credit.” His voice is rough with reverence that bathes me in praise. “But the angels knew what they were doing when they created you.” His adoration charges through my body until every nerve ending is firing at once like a hit of the best kind of drug.
With one long stride, he’s in front of me, his hands cupping my face. The urge to kiss me is written all over his face, but he refrains for the sake of the glossy, gorgeous red pout on my full lips.
“This color is breathtaking, baby,” he murmurs, tilting my head back to bring my lips just inches from his. “It couldn’t be more perfect for you.”
“Just like the man it came from,” I say, resisting my own need to feel his lips against mine. I want to feel every inch of him as he worships every inch of me. The sparks flying between us burn so hot I’m sure I’d be swallowed whole until I was nothing but ash. “You look so good, I don’t know how I’ll be able to resist you tonight.”
And, damn, do I want to be laid to ruin.
“Mmmm.” The sound that rumbles through Gage’s chest is so deep and guttural that I can’t tell if it’s a growl or a moan, and it sends arousal pooling between my legs.
“I want you so badly right now I can’t think straight.” His eyes burn into mine as I watch his internal struggle. It takes a few minutes, but he slowly gets a hold of himself. “But I’m not going to get ahead of myself. The world deserves to see you in this dress, and I’m going to watch you bring them to their knees until I get to rip it off of you. I’m going to watch your perfect red lips as you talk, smile, and laugh—until I get to kiss the color off of them. And I’m going to appreciate the way those heels make your gorgeous legs, and that perfect ass of yours look until I have them dangling over my shoulders.”
The waves of devotion rolling off him beat against me until I’m breathless and practically clinging to him. If he keeps talking like this, we won’t be making it out of this apartment for the next several days. “You have such a way with words.”
“I can’t wait to have my way with you.” He lets his hands drop from my face like it’ll give him a contact high. “Jesus. Come on, Gorgeous, if we don’t leave now I might decide to chain you up and keep you locked away all for myself.”
The drive across town is filled with heated looks and deep conversation. Gage’s hand remains firmly on my thigh, his thumb tracing mindless shapes through the delicate fabric of my dress. When he pulls up to what looks like a nondescript utility building, I can’t help but be intrigued.
Gage parks and climbs out of the car before rounding to open my door for me. I accept his offered hand and allow him to help me out of the vehicle. When he just can’t help himself, he presses a hot kiss to my jaw, his arms wrapping around me. His hands slide from my waist to grab greedy handfuls of my ass.
“You are unreal,” he murmurs. “But don’t try to seduce me because I’m not bailing on our date.”
“God, you’re making me so wet right now.” There’s a breathiness to my voice that has his heated eyes flaring. “Maybe now isn’t the right time to mention I’m not wearing any panties.”
“You’re nothing but trouble,” Gage grates, his voice rough with desire. I smooth my hands down his dress shirt, appreciating the chiseled muscles of his chest.
“You’re going to make us late,” I remind him, making a growl of frustration resonate in his chest. “And don’t act like you don’t like it.”
Taking him by the hand, I let him lead me into the building.
“What’s with this place?” I look around the concrete room the size of a basketball court. Large paper targets line the far back wall, outlined by the silhouette of a person. Gage’s hand on my back leads me to one of the booths at the edge of the room opposite the targets.
“It’s a shooting range,” Gage states like it’s obvious because it is obvious.
“I know it’s a shooting range,” I deadpan. “Why did you bring me here?”
Reaching into the duffle bag that’s waiting in one of the booths, he pulls out a handgun. I stare at the weapon as he pulls back the slide to check if there’s a round in the chamber. “I’m teaching you how to handle a gun.” Walking closer, he places the gun in my hand. I look up at him, intrigued. It’s heavy in my hand, made of metal and deadly force.
“You want me to shoot a gun dressed like this?” I ask, cocking a hip to accentuate my figure.
“I’ve seen what you can do while wearing heels.” Gage bites his bottom lip and shakes his head slowly. “I didn’t think you could possibly look any better, but the sight of you holding a gun is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The shower of praise coming from him tonight already has me soaked through, and I won’t make it another ten seconds if we don’t shift gears. I know he can see the change in my demeanor when my eyes narrow at him ever so slightly.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to hand me a loaded gun when you’re within shooting range? I thought your instincts were better than that,” I say, flashing Gage a flirty smile. The metal of the gun feels so heavy with power against my palm.
“We both know you’ll never pull that trigger on me,” he replies smugly, his smoldering eyes holding mine.
“You willing to bet your life on that?” I’m only half teasing, and his eyes cut to mine. He regards me for a moment, letting his gaze wander down my body like he has a million times already tonight.
“I don’t mind being shot if you’re the one pulling the trigger.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” This isn’t the first time I’ve held a gun, but so far, it’s my favorite. And I’ll admit, those other times, I was only talking a big game. I never actually intended to fire.
“When you shoot, shoot to kill,” he says, his large hands guiding my arms into position. “Always assume the gun is loaded. Aim for the head or the heart. A bullet through the brain is the only sure shot. But there are plenty of places to shoot if you want them to suffer.”
Strong fingers position my hands on the weapon’s grip, his inked hands closing over mine. My skin heats beneath his touch like tiny sparks of electricity. “Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. And always know if your safety is on or off.” Tilting the gun, I can see a small switch on the side just under the slide that’s labeled safety. The red dot is visible, showing that the weapon is ready to shoot.
“Is it hard to pull the trigger?”
I’ve never had to pull the trigger, I can’t help but wonder how it feels.
“Not hard, but you have to be firm. When you pull the trigger, the gun will push against your hands. Be cautious of the kickback and keep your grip steady.”
“Easy.” I take his notes, applying the instructions.
“Now take a deep breath,” The air in our lungs rushes out in unison. “I’ll step back. You aim and shoot the target until you run out of bullets. You want kill shots.”
“Ok.” I nod against him. With that, he’s pulling away from me and takes several steps back to give me room. As he directed, I keep my finger away from the trigger until I’ve aimed and I’m ready to shoot. Pulling the trigger, a wave of energy trickles down my spine. My grip braces against the kickback, holding the weapon almost steady.
“Damn,” I marvel, looking at the weapon in my hands. There’s so much freedom in the power this deadly weapon gives me, a hit of dopamine second only to the feeling of a blade. Chasing that feeling, I pull the trigger again in quick succession-—as fast as I can while still taking the time to aim. The head or the heart. I feel so unstoppable as the bullets explode from the chamber to pierce my target. The kick of the gun, the solid weight of the metal in my hands, gives me a sense of confidence and control I’ve only ever felt when taking a life with my bare hands.
Here, in this moment, I’m invincible.
Metal chinks when I reach the end of the magazine, having shot the last loaded bullet. Damn, this is exhilarating. I flip the switch on the side of the booth, and the pulley system has my target racing towards me. Inspecting it, I count the holes in the paper.
“How many bullets were in here?” I ask, turning the pistol over in my hand to get a better look at it. The grip gives no indication of how much ammunition it can hold.
“That one holds seventeen rounds,” Gage says behind me.
“Eight out of seventeen isn’t bad. I even shot the brain and the heart a few times,” I say, pointing to where the ammunition tore through the paper. Three kill shots, as Gage calls them. Two in the head, one in the heart. “I can do better. Got any more of these?” Waving the gun, my eyes search for Gage.
He’s standing not two feet behind me, his gaze fixed intensely on me with a passionate expression. The man is searing a hole right through me, turning my insides into molten lava.
“What?” I ask.
“What do you feel right now?”
Pausing for a few seconds, I take stock of what’s going on inside me. What am I feeling right now?
“I feel…” A smile slowly spreads across my face. “Alive.”
He’s watching me, those unrelenting eyes of his soaking in my every reaction. Holding out his hand, I place the gun in his palm. His fingers brush against mine, lingering longer than necessary before pulling away.
With the press of a button, the magazine ejects, and he pulls it from the handle. He crouches down to drop the empty clip into the duffle and replace it with a full one. Raising back to his full height, he slams the magazine back into place and chambers a round with a resounding chink.
Replacing the target and sending it flying back into place on the far back wall with the others, he steps forward to wrap his arms around me again. “Let’s work on your aim, little devil.”
The second part of our date is a romantic dinner at Taste, one of the best restaurants in the city. When I asked Gage how he managed to get a reservation, he simply smirked and told me he worked some magic because I’m worth it.
Following the hostess through the restaurant to our table with Gage at my side, I can feel the other diners’ eyes on us. True to his word, Gage found a way to show me off in this dress, and I’ve never felt hotter. Having a tall tattoo-god dressed to the nines on my arm completes the look. We’re one ridiculously beautiful couple, especially tonight.
Our table is intimately set for two, with a vase of long-stem red roses that are noticeably not on any other table. Gage pulls out my chair before taking his seat across from me. I look at him, surprised when a server shows up out of thin air to place a dirty martini on the table in front of me. Gage simply flashes me a wink that has my stomach doing backflips.
When the server returns to our table, Gage orders for the both of us—a lobster tail and champagne for me, and filet mignon and a vintage cognac for himself. Watching him take charge is so unbelievably attractive. If I were wearing panties, they’d be drenched. Everything this man does is ridiculously attractive, and he looks damn good doing it.
How did I get so lucky? This man showed up in my life unannounced and stole my heart without contest. I’m not sure what I did to be so blessed for a man like Gage to have found me.
“Something’s on your mind,” Gage observes. “Tell me what it is.” I cross my legs under the table, running the side of my foot up and down his leg absentmindedly.
“I want to know how.”
“How?” Gage repeats, confused.
“How you knew I was the one you wanted,” I clarify. I’ve never questioned the why—because it’s always been so obvious why Gage and I are meant to be. But how Gage was able to find me is something I haven’t been able to figure out.
Gage meets my eyes, his passionate gaze holding mine. Something tells me I’ll never get used to the depth of our connection.
“The moment I laid eyes on you, it was undeniable. You’re mine.”
“Where did you first see me?”
“Helix.”
It takes a second, but the memory clicks of the night he’s talking about.
“You were dancing in a tight little dress,” he continues. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Then you turned around, and I saw the fire blazing in those breathtaking eyes of yours. Suddenly, everything in my life made sense. Every decision in my life had led me to that moment in that club. To find you.” I hold his gaze for a moment, letting his words sink in as I flirt with my eyes.
“It wasn’t like that for me,” I say, lifting my glass to take a sip of my martini. The balance of the cocktail is impeccable. “The first time I saw you I wanted to fuck you, then I wanted to kill you. In that order.”
Gage tilts his head back and laughs at that. “With you, that sounds like a good time.”
“Hmmm, play your cards right, and maybe you’ll get lucky,” I tease. He looks at me for a moment, the humor in his expression melting into passion.
“You know now,” Gage states. “This is real.”
The this he’s referring to is us.
“Without a doubt in my mind,” I confirm, lighting a fire in his eyes.
When our meals arrive, we enjoy our food with heated glances and minimal conversation. The mood has shifted, and both of us are determined to end our dinner quickly so we can finish our night at home. As soon as the dessert plates are cleared, Gage offers me his hand and ushers me to the valet, where our car is waiting.
When we enter Gage’s house, all taunting and teasing is done—leaving nothing but passion, desire, and adoration. And for the first time since I’ve met Gage, his touch is gentle as he carries me to his bedroom and makes tender love to me. With the soft praise and reverence he handles me with, there’s only one word to describe it.
Worship.