Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
GAGE
Is this real life? I have to pinch myself when I wake up with River in my arms. The whole night explodes through my brain like some naughty porno that I want to relive pronto.
I groan as my cock hardens, and River stirs lightly. Her big eyes open, and all that blue is focused on me. “Morning,” I say to her.
“Hi,” she whispers. “I can’t believe we did that last night.”
My heartbeat catches in my ribs. “You don’t regret it, do you?” My cock throbs between us, and she notices it.
She glances down and back up again. Her hand wraps around the base of my dick, and my breath hitches. “Not at all.” She pumps her fist, and my brain short circuits.
She repositions herself, moving her mouth closer and closer to my hardening dick. “I want to watch you lose control again,” she whispers before darting her pink tongue across the head. Her wet tongue traces the ridge and I turn to where I’m lying flat on my back.
“Oh fuck, River,” I groan out. My fingers slip into her hair, and I angle her head.
She drags a tongue along my shaft and I hiss out a ragged breath. She opens her mouth wide, taking me into it and sucking. Her cheeks hollow out, and she continues to suck me deep down her throat.
“You’re so fucking hot as you suck my cock.” I grip her hair tight. “Keep swallowing me, River. Fuck,” I growl. I don’t know how much longer I can last.
The sight of River sucking my dick is what wet dreams are made of. I pump my dick inside her tight mouth a few more times before I realize I don’t want this to end this way.
I pull myself out of her mouth, and she gazes up at me.
“I need to taste you too,” I tell her, sliding off the couch in one quick movement.
I spread her legs, and she’s soaked for me.
“Oh fuck, River. You’re so damn wet. Is this all for me?
” I drag a finger through it, ending at her clit.
I rub on it a few times before leaning my head down. I breathe her in. So fucking good.
She pumps her hips. “Yes, all for you.”
The thought that she was getting turned on just sucking my dick does something to me. It makes me come alive, and I want to return the favor. “I want you coming all over my tongue,” I tell her, licking a path over her slick heat. “All over my face,” I whisper as I nibble lightly on her thigh.
Her fingers fly through my hair. “Yes, oh god, yes,” she moans out.
I smile up at her. “Not god, sweetheart. Gage.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
I lean my head back down to her hot center, and focus all my attention on her. I work her over, my tongue creating patterns that weave and slide through her wetness. Her pussy grows hotter as I stick a finger into her, and then another. I hook one finger, trying my best to get her G-spot again.
I eat her out like a man on a mission. I don’t relent as she calls out my name and begs for mercy. I don’t stop when she tightens her hold on me. And I fucking don’t even think about stopping when she comes all over me.
My cock is raging hard as I slam it into her tight heat after her orgasm.
“I need to fuck you,” I tell her with each hard stroke of my cock. I ram into her harder, over and over, as she clings tightly to me. I’m not thinking about anything but my release. About how badly I want this woman in my bed every night. How I need her with me always.
My release crashes over me as she tells me she’s coming again. The swell of pride that courses through me makes me want to call off the day and stay indoors with her all day long. I don’t even want to come up for air.
Our bodies relax, and she giggles lightly.
“I need a shower,” she says as I pull my cock out of her.
“Is that an offer?”
She kisses me, and the thought of washing her sinfully sexy body has me growing hard again. “We’ll never get anything done if we do.”
I brush a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “Is that such a bad thing?”
Before she can answer my phone lights up with a notification. I grab it at the same time she grabs hers. Group text. More importantly, company group text.
NovaPlay Studios invites you to their company gala this Friday night.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say. “Think they’re up to something?”
River pulls the throw blanket further up our bodies. “I think they’re always up to something.” She pulls the blanket with her as she stands up, leaving me completely exposed. “I’m going to shower, and then we should get busy.”
I smile up at her, and smile even wider as her eyes trail over my body. “Like what you see?” I ask her, tugging life back into my dick. “We can get busy after we shower.”
She laughs, and waggles her eyebrows at me. “Your call.”
I’m up and pulling her toward the bathroom in one quick movement. You don’t need to ask me twice. I’ve wanted this dream to come true since I met her.
I push us into the bathroom and turn the water on. “I can’t get enough of you,” I tell her, meaning every word. I doubt I’ll ever be able to get enough of her. Ever.
She wraps her arms around my neck, going up on her tippy toes. “I don’t want you to.”
I laugh as I move her under the spray. The water’s hot, but feels so good as it rains down over the both of us. I kiss her, like my life depends on it.
I know once we’re out of the shower we’ll need to get serious on taking this company down. Somebody is targeting her, and I won’t stop until I find the mother fucker, but first… I need her again.
“Can I suck your dick now?” she lowers herself, and I moan out something between a yes and her name. She smiles, grabbing the base of my cock. “I love how I affect you. I love how turned on you get.”
I lean forward, gazing down at my girl. I trace a finger across her jaw. “You do something to me, River. Something I can’t quite put into words just yet.” It’s not true. I can totally put how I feel into three simple words.
I love her.
I really fucking do.
But I know she’s not ready to hear that just yet. Soon.
I fist my dick in my hand, guiding my dick to her waiting mouth. I feed it to her, and she moans along the shaft. It vibrates completely through me. Fuck me.
She works my cock, swallowing me completely down her throat and I push a hand against the tiled wall. The hot spray loosens my muscles as River loosens my nerves a different way. She keeps sucking, and I let her.
I’m not going to stop her this time. No, this time I’m going to shoot my load deep down her throat.
“Keep sucking me, River. Take all of me.”
She gags as she tries to suck me even deeper. I grab a hold of her head, pushing her deeper, controlling her just enough so she doesn’t completely choke.
The sounds she’s making fill the bathroom, and completely turn me on. I keep fucking her mouth, no longer thinking about anything but this moment. This want that’s running through my system. I gaze down at her, my mind focusing on just her.
Fuck, she’s perfect. And she sucks my cock like a fucking goddess.
“That’s it, River. You’re going to make me come so hard. So fucking good. Fuck, River. What are you doing to me?” I keep thrusting my hips, my balls tightening as my orgasm looms.
She keeps going.
“You look so good sucking my dick deep down your throat. Your mouth is so fucking hot.” Another thrust and I’ll be there. “Fuck, I want you to swallow me down.” I keep pushing, my grip on her hair tightening in my grasp. “Take this dick. It’s yours.” And then I lose it.
I can’t stop coming. I can’t stop filling her mouth up with my seed. I keep going, and she keeps sucking me, swallowing me, encouraging me to keep giving her everything I have.
As soon as I’m done, I lift her up, holding her close to my body. The next few minutes I run the loofah over her body. I memorize every single inch of her. I wash her hair, and she moans as I do.
“I love your hands on me,” she whispers as I wash the last of the shampoo out of her hair.
“Well, you know I love putting my hands on you.”
I continue washing her as she lets me.
Steam curls around us, fogging the glass and turning the world into a soft halo.
She tips her head back into the spray while my fingers comb through her hair, slow and careful, until the water runs clear.
I rinse her shoulders, her throat, the nape of her neck—pressing a kiss there just because I can.
She shivers, and the sound she makes lives somewhere I’m never getting back from.
“Turn,” I murmur.
She does, palms braced on the tile. I run the loofah down her back in long, even strokes, as gentle as I know how to be.
She relaxes one vertebrae at a time, breath deepening, trust settling over us like the steam.
I’m not rushing this. I won’t. There’s a kind of worship in doing small things right.
“You’re spoiling me,” she says, voice drowsy.
“Good,” I answer. “I plan on making it a habit.”
She laughs, and turns back to me, sliding her arms around my neck. For a moment we just breathe each other in. No ghosts. No masks. Just warmth and water and the quiet knowledge that neither of us wants to be anywhere else.
I soap my own hair one-handed while she sketches lazy patterns over my shoulders, then her fingers join mine to rinse. We trade small, ridiculous kisses between the spray.
“Five more minutes,” she bargains.
“At least,” I say, because I’m weak for her and that’s not changing.
When we finally step out, I wrap her in a towel first, rubbing her arms until goosebumps give up and the pink returns to her skin. She steals my towel and musses my hair like I’m not trying to look like a functional adult in twenty minutes.
“You look indecent,” she says, smiling.
“Your fault,” I say, not even pretending otherwise.
We move around each other in the small bathroom like we’ve practiced for years. I hand her my comb, and she passes me her moisturizer. She dots some across my cheekbones with solemn concentration and I hold still like it’s a ceremony.
“This is wildly unfair,” I tell the mirror. “You’re going to show up to work glowing and I’m going to look like a man who barely survived a thunderstorm.”
She leans up and kisses my jaw. “You’re going to look like a man who’s very, very kissed. Which is my favorite look on you.”
I make coffee while she pulls on a sweater and jeans. The safehouse smells like dark roast and clean skin. I lay out two mugs, add the sugar the way she likes without thinking. She notices and gives me a look that lands center mass.
“Thank you,” she says, honest and simple.
“Anytime.”
We eat toast over the sink like heathens, grinning when crumbs go everywhere. She snags my phone to queue music—something low and bright—and hums while she ties her shoes. I shoulder my hoodie, check the time, then check the cameras. Everything reads clean, green across the board.
On the way to the door, she stops, fingers catching in the drawstring of my hoodie. “Before we go play normal at work… I need to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“Do you really think it’s Tasha?” Her voice is steady, but I can hear the hairline cracks.
I don’t look away. “I think we’re close to proving it. I also think Regent is the one tightening the screws. Tasha may be a conduit. Or worse. We’ll know soon.”
She exhales. “Okay.”
I touch her cheek with my knuckles. “Rule one?”
“Trust myself,” she says, a small smile ghosting her mouth.
“And rule two,” I add, “text me if anything feels off—no matter how small.”
“Rule three,” she counters, looping her arms around my neck for one more kiss, “you show up when I do.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We head downstairs together, shoulder to shoulder in the narrow stairwell. Morning air meets us at the door—cool, bright, ordinary in a way that feels almost miraculous. I lock up, scan the street out of habit, then fall into step with her.
She slides her hand into mine. It’s such a simple thing, but it fixes something that’s been crooked inside me for a long time.
“Gage?”
“Yeah?”
“I like this,” she says, giving our joined hands a tiny squeeze. “The together part.”
I can’t help it, and I lean over and kiss the corner of her smile. “Me too.”
We split at the corner so no one clocks us arriving side by side. She takes the crosswalk, and I circle the block to pick up a coffee carrier like a decoy. At the office door we meet again by accident-on-purpose. She bites back a grin when I pass her a cup.
“For the record,” she says under her breath, “you are the office hottie.”
I pretend to choke. “Defamation.”
“Facts,” she corrects, then lowers her voice. “And you’re mine.”
My heartbeat does a stupid, violent thing. “Yeah,” I say, steady as I can make it. “I am.”
We step into NovaPlay together, masks of a different kind sliding into place—hers the cool of a woman who won’t be rattled, mine the calm of a man who’s already rewritten the odds. Underneath, we’re still warm from the shower, from the coffee, from each other.
And I’m already counting the hours until I can get her back home, lock the door, and put my hands on her again.