Chapter 49 #3
While I was prepared to seduce him if necessary, it turned out that it wasn’t. As soon as we were in the bathroom, he headed for the shower and turned on the water. Then he was back, standing behind me as I looked in the mirror.
It was strange to see my reflection. I didn’t look like myself despite some of the color that had chased out the gray pallor I’d sported after my ordeal.
The weight was returning slowly, the prominence of my cheekbones and jawline not so sharp.
My doctor was content with my progress, but she continued to monitor me closely, insisting on monthly visits for now.
I had a long way to go before I was back to the previous version of myself, but I was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I would get there, of that I was certain.
“You okay?” Gage asked, his hands settling on my shoulders.
I nodded, reaching up and covering his hands with mine. I watched his face in the mirror as I slowly shifted his hands down so they were on my chest. Then lower.
While I did that, Gage was peering down, not in the mirror.
I could feel his eyes on me, knew he was hesitant.
I wasn’t, though. I wanted to feel his hands on me.
I’d missed this, and while I’d been chained to that floor, I had dreamed about this, about their hands, their mouths on my flesh.
Not only because of the physical pleasure, but the emotional connection that we shared as well.
I had yearned to feel that again. Now that I was on the mend, I didn’t see any reason not to get back what we’d once had.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, watching Gage. “I won’t break.”
His gaze lifted, meeting mine in the mirror. “No. You won’t. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
I smiled, appreciating that he thought so. I didn’t feel that way most of the time, but I wanted to. I had liked who I was before this happened, and I was desperate to find that woman again, to bring her to life and let her force away the fear that still lingered.
Leaning into Gage, I lowered my hands as I continued to watch us in the mirror.
“God, Kylie,” he rasped, his cheek pressing to the top of my head as his arms came around me.
He held me, his arms strong and warm, a safety net I’d missed for so long. We remained like that for a minute, maybe two, before Gage stood tall, adjusting his stance as his hands returned to my skin, moving with a hint of demand and anticipation as they slid over my chest, lower.
To help him along, I reached for the hem of my T-shirt and lifted. When I was halfway up, our eyes connected in the mirror once again. I could tell he was looking for something, likely any sign that I was hesitant.
“I want this,” I assured him.
With that, he took over, pulling my shirt up and over my head before setting it on the counter.
His hands returned, as did his heated stare, both warming me from the inside out.
As his fingers dipped beneath the straps of my bra, his gaze lifted, meeting mine in the mirror once again.
I willed him to see my desire, my pure, unfettered need.
It was moving like a wildfire through my body, consuming me with its intensity.
“Touch me,” I whispered. “Please, Gage. It’s okay to touch me.”
I swore I saw a flash of sinful desire in those dark brown eyes, and it thrilled me, reminding me of what we’d had … before.
Gage slipped my bra straps down my arms, then peeled the cups from my breasts. His eyes heated even more when he looked at me in the mirror.
I watched with bated breath as his hands traveled down my arms, all the way to my wrists, before sliding back up and taking a detour to my breasts.
I gasped softly when he cupped me, his touch so gentle, so familiar.
“God, yes,” I whimpered, leaning into him, letting him hold my weight.
While we were standing there, holding each other’s stare in the mirror, his hands soothing while at the same time inciting a maelstrom of need, Travis appeared in the doorway.
“Jesus,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rapid thump of my heart.
Steam began to billow from the shower, obscuring our reflections as the mirror began to fog.
I was aware of every move, every touch, every breath.
Right up until Gage unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor.
Cool air brushed against my sensitive nipples, causing me to gasp.
This felt like our first time together, rife with anticipation and nerves.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded when Gage’s hands paused. “We need this.”
My leggings were the next to go, followed by my panties. And then I was naked, my husbands looking at me as though I were dessert. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, I felt like myself. Whole. Complete in a way I didn’t think I would ever be again.
Travis stepped forward, his hands caressing alongside Gage’s. It felt good, freeing, to have their heated gazes on me, but nothing compared to their touch.
This.
This was what I’d dreamed about for so long.
This was what healing felt like.