Chapter Forty-One
White Ravens
Scar
Gage was on his lap before the helicopter had even leveled out.
Scar kept one arm around his waist and used the other to draw him closer by the back of the neck until his nose was buried in his throat.
His scent soothed him like cool water after a long run.
Gage hummed against his mouth, slow and pleased, and Scar stared at his face, unable to believe they were living this life.
Gage slid his fingers into his hair, combing through it and tugging just enough to make his cock take notice.
“It’s getting long,” Gage murmured.
“If it wasn’t for you. I would’ve shaved it off long ago.”
Gage growled, playful and mean. “You better not.”
Scar kissed him again.
Gage leaned back. “Where are we going?”
Scar pressed his mouth to the side of Gage’s throat, licking a slow path. “It’s a surprise.”
“You and your surprises.” Gage shook his head, then asked, “How did you get Meridian’s chopper?”
Scar shrugged. “I got friends in high places.”
“Touching down,” the pilot announced.
The landing was smooth. Scar stood first, grabbed their duffel bags, then offered his arm.
He tucked Gage’s hand into the crook of his elbow and led him toward their private oasis for the next twenty-four hours.
The night air was warm and tropical. The ocean was so close he could taste the salt.
“Describe it to me,” Gage asked quietly.
Scar didn’t rush it.
“The ocean is all around us, with white sand, and moonlight reflecting off the dark water. Straight ahead is our villa. It’s big, all open space, and behind it are some tall-ass palm trees. No one’s here but us.”
Gage smiled. “Being alone sounds nice.”
“Well, it’s nice if we forget about the four men hiding somewhere in the woods watching us,” Scar added dryly
Gage laughed under his breath. “Oh yeah.”
Inside, the place was exactly how Meridian had described it.
Large, wide open, and decorated like a luxury resort suite.
It was perfect for his partner. It had smooth floors, vast pathways, there was no clutter or bulky, sharp-cornered furniture—and it smelled amazing.
Gage tapped his cane twice. Paused. “Bamboo.”
Gage let go of his arm, and Scar watched his love investigate with his cane and free hand, taking the room apart in quiet pieces.
Gage drifted toward the kitchen and stopped. “Something smells delicious.”
“There’s a private chef on the island,” he said.
The expression on Gage’s face was sheer wonder, and Scar had to just stand there for a second and stare at it.
That damn smile always did—and probably always will—something to him.
White Ravens
Gage
Gage felt a sense of freedom the moment he stepped off the aircraft and the night breeze touched his skin.
He removed his shoes and socks so he could feel the warmth of the villa’s bamboo floors beneath his feet.
He moved slowly, running his hands along the smooth velvety furniture in the living area.
In the kitchen, he pressed his palms against the stone counter, the chill sinking into his skin. Seconds later, a smell hit him and his stomach answered.
He hadn’t been hungry until that moment.
Scr came up behind him and kissed the back of his neck. “You ready for dinner?”
Gage tipped his head back for more.
“I can’t believe you had time to plan all this while prepping for the mission,” he said, still stunned.
Scar’s voice was deep and sexy. “I needed uninterrupted time with you.”
Gage’s breath caught. Tonight’s the night.
His mind went where it always did when he felt desire. But he was no longer ashamed or convicted by it. If he and Scar were committed, and it was going to be just the two of them, for life, then he could give himself to him.
And he wanted to do that more than anything. He loved him.
Scar guided him into a chair and sat so close their thighs touched.
The dining table was set for royalty—complete with domes over the plates, the kind of presentation that made him grin like a spoiled kid.
He ran his fingers along the edge of the plate in front of him. “What are we having?”
“Your favorite.”
Gage smirked. “You know my favorite meal?”
He heard the clink of metal as Scar lifted the domes one by one, the scent rolling towards him like a wave.
Seafood…cream…herbs.
“Lobster risotto,” Scar said proudly.
He beamed. It was amazing how Scar could brighten his whole world when he could only see darkness.
“You’ve asked Grace to make it for you a lot, then you told your chef to get the recipe from him, and he’s made a hundred times already. I figured it was at least one of your favs.”
Gage turned toward him, his emotions rising too fast to hide. He leaned over and kissed Scar with everything he was feeling.
Scar moaned when he pulled away and said against his lips, “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
The garden salad was crisp and tossed with his favorite dressing—sumac vinaigrette.
He ate at least three pieces of the herb infused bread that’d been so warm it steamed when he tore it apart.
He took a small sip of his wine, then wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin.
He smiled until his jaw ached.
Scar had brought him to a secluded island, wined and dined him, and since they’d arrived, Scar hadn’t stopped touching him.
When he reached for more bread, Scar caught his hand. “Save room for dessert.”
Gage beamed. “Oh my gosh.”
Scar took his hand and led him to a couch that felt too comfortable to be real.
The floor-to-ceiling doors were opened, allowing the ocean breeze to flow inside and bathe his skin like a cool caress.
Scar sat beside him. “Dessert’s on the table in front of you.”
“What are we having?”
“I admit that I don’t know what your favorite dessert is.”
He heard a fork scrape lightly across a plate, then Scar’s lips grazed his gently before he whispered, “Do you trust me?”
He didn’t hesitate. “With my life.”
Scar stayed close enough Gage could feel his breath, and it made the heat building below his waist obvious.
Scar’s voice was silken-dark—soft and sinful. “Open your mouth.”
Gage’s pulse beat wildly as he slowly parted his lips.
The first bite was chilled and had a mousse-like texture that melted on his tongue. The bright, citrusy flavor came next, then the soft crumble underneath.
He made a satisfied sound before he opened his mouth for more.
Scar’s lips brushed his cheek before he slid the fork in again.
“Key lime tart,” he said.
Gage swallowed, breath unsteady, his cock straining in his slacks.
“You wanna try another?” Scar asked, brushing his thumb along his bottom lip.
He nodded, heat burning hotter.
“Open,” Scar said hoarsely, his voice sounding as if he were just as affected by all of this as he was.
The metal prongs slid between his lips, and this time, the bite was warm. It was some kind of cake soaked in something sweet, like a milky cream.
Gage’s eyes fluttered closed.
It wasn’t just the flavors. It was the intimacy of being fed, and Scar being so charismatic and sexy.
“That’s delicious. I think I’ve had this one before, but I don’t remember it tasting that good.”
“Tres leches,” Scar murmured after Gage ate another bite.
Next was something crisp and thin that shattered when he bit down, turning into buttery sugar.
Gage moaned. “Oh my gosh?”
“Caramelized puffs,” Scar said.
“It’s so good. Are you eating some too?”
“Mmm, I think I will have a taste.”
Scar leaned in and kissed him, tender at first, then deeper. Scar’s mouth was hungry as if he were trying to suck all traces of sugar off his lips.
Scar broke the kiss with a rough breath, nuzzling his forehead into his cheek as if resetting his control.
Scar reached for the fork again.
Gage licked his lips and opened his mouth.
A spoonful of something cold and dense spread across his tongue. Dark chocolate and bold coffee flavors, bitter and sweet.
“Tiramisu,” Scar said.
Gage laughed. “That’s a bit too rich, and I’m not a big coffee lover.”
“Noted,” Scar said, setting the plate down and picking up another. “This is the last one.”
The final bite was chewy and sticky. Layered with syrupy-honey and a nutty flavor, maybe pistachio. He was fascinated by how the textures kept changing the more he ate.
“Baklava.”
As if Scar could see how much he liked that one, he fed him another piece, then another. He would’ve eaten it all, but now he craved something else.
His body was hyperaware of Scar beside him, his heat, his energy. The way Scar’s mouth kept brushing his between bites, stealing kisses and licking the sweetness off his lips, had him worked up.
He curled his fingers into Scar’s shirt as he wrapped his hand behind his neck, pulling him closer.
Their kiss tasted like vanilla and citrus, decadent and tart. Scar’s tongue traced his lower lip before he delved back inside.
Gage was shaking with excitement—from being handled, teased, and cherished all at the same time.
His body was being loud and clear about what it wanted.
He climbed onto Scar’s lap, breathing hard into his mouth. “I want you. All of you, right now…please.”
Scar groaned as if he was in bliss, but he gripped Gage’s hips, locking him in place.
He jerked back, disappointed and confused. “Why do you keep…?” His voice cracked. “What am I doing wrong? I thought you brought me here because we were gonna’…”
Scar pressed his finger gently to his lips.
Gage quieted, trying to calm his frustration.
Scar took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself.
“I brought you here,” he said, barely above a whisper, “to tell you, and show you…how much I love you.”
Gage froze.
Scar took one of his hands and brought it to his lips, kissing his knuckles.
“I’ve never loved anyone in my life, not even myself,” Scar said. “I was crazy about you from the moment I saw you. I knew you were…innocent. Kind and good. Where I came from, I never thought I’d know someone like you. Have someone like you. I don’t want just one night.”
Gage blinked at the moisture forming in his eyes.
Scar reached for his other hand and wrapped it tight in his. “I want you every night,” he said. “Forever. For the rest of our lives.”
Scar guided his hand toward what he was holding. Gage closed it over a small velvet cradle with a hinge opening.
A ring box.
He gasped as he traced his fingertips over a smooth band of metal.
Gage’s head swam so hard he thought he might pass out.
Scar moved off the couch, and the next thing he felt was Scar lowering himself to the floor between his legs—on one knee.
Scar cupped his face, and Gage trembled harder as calloused thumbs grazed along his jaw.
“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” Scar said, low and reverent. “Gage, I want to go to sleep and wake up to your face for the rest of my life.”
Tears rolled down his cheeks, a sob hitching in his throat.
Scar grip his hand tighter. “And I know you’re too good for me.
But I swear on my life that I’ll spend every day trying to be good enough.
I’ll love you harder than you ever thought possible.
I’ll fight for you and beside you, protect you, guide you, cherish you for the rest of my fuckin’ life, if you promise to be mine. ”
Oh my gosh!
“Marry me, Gage…please.” Scar sounded fractured, splayed open, vulnerable only for him.
Gage didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, hands finding Scar’s face.
“Yes,” he sighed. “Yes. Yes.”
He said it over and over, kissing Scar with every emotion overtaking him.
He didn’t know how marriage would be possible, didn’t know what paperwork, permissions or battles it would take. But he trusted Scar.
If Scar said they were getting married, then somehow, someway, they were getting married.