Chapter Thirteen #2
I nodded. If he’d said it one more time in that same I’m-sexy-and-I-damn-well-know-it voice, then he wouldn’t have had to actually do anything.
Yeah, I was that aroused—painfully aroused.
My phone rang. God hated me. There really was no other explanation. He knew I was getting ready to sin. I shook my head when Cage gave me a questioning look.
“Ignore it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and grabbed his head bringing him down to my lips. It stopped ringing. I apologized to God and thanked him at the same time. My phone rang again. OK, clearly God was persistent.
“Just get it.” Cage rolled off me.
I sat up. “I’ll make it quick.” I pushed down my shirt that he’d worked halfway up my torso, then grabbed my phone next to my purse on the floor.
“Mom, hi.”
“Hey, baby. Thought I’d call you before you went to bed. I have a little time before I need to start making breakfast for our guests.”
My parents owned a bed and breakfast in Tahoe, and my mom was always up before dawn.
“Thanks, yeah I’m about ready to go to bed.”
Cage laced his fingers behind his head and grinned.
“How’s your trip? Do you like the prototypes Jerry made you?”
“Yeah, they’re great. I’ll have to call you when I get home and tell you all about them.”
“Have you talked to your brother or Jessica yet?”
“About?”
“Jessica’s pregnant.”
“What?” I squealed.
Cage rolled his head to the side, wide eyes looking at me. My smile overtook my face.
“She’s due October tenth.”
“That’s awesome. Grant needs a sister.”
“You have to let them tell you and act surprised when they do. Okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Oh, did I tell you about your dad’s new project?”
“I don’t think so.”
My dad’s new-project story segued into full updates on all my siblings. My mom was truly my best friend so I didn’t have the heart to cut her off. I knew how much she worried about me, and I also knew how much talking to me on the phone helped her feel closer to me, easing her anxiety.
Thirty minutes after I answered my phone, she was still going. In spite of my apologetic looks, Cage disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later. He gave me a polite smile. Mine still said, “I’m so very sorry.”
He mouthed, “it’s fine,” and stripped down to his black boxer briefs.
I heard absolutely nothing my mom said after that point.
He grabbed a pillow from the bed and the extra blanket at the end, and then started to make his bed on the couch.
When he glanced my way, I shook my head and pointed to the spot in the king-sized bed beside me.
We should have been having sex at that very moment; he’d seen my breasts that morning.
There was no way I’d let him sleep on the couch.
Cage had the nerve to look conflicted.
I gave him the “really” look, stabbing my finger next to me and mouthing, “bed.” He conceded with a small nod.
“Sweetie, are you still there?”
“Uh, yeah, Mom.”
She continued. I watched a tall, muscle-bound guy with biceps bigger than my legs get into bed beside me. He turned his back toward me. I wanted to believe it was to give me a sense of privacy that I didn’t really need and not that he was upset with me for our second botched attempt at having sex.
My mom droned on for another half hour. Maybe I should have just told her I had someone with me, but that would have only made the conversation longer.
“Well, I’d better get started on breakfast. I love you, Lake. Please be safe. You know I hate you traveling by yourself.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I love you too.”
I set my phone down and let my eyes wander over Cage’s back. The sheet rested low on his hip. He’d fallen asleep, and I couldn’t blame him. I eased out of bed and took a much-needed shower, brushed my teeth, then sat on the edge of the bed to rub lotion over my legs and arms.
After shutting off the light, I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t a big surprise. My body didn’t run on the same schedule as normal humans. So many things changed after my accident.
Man of my dreams was next to me in bed. What was I thinking?
I shimmied out of my shorts and panties and shrugged off my T-shirt, tossing it to the end of the bed.
Easing myself closer to Cage, I rested my head on the edge of his pillow.
I brought my hand close to his back, almost touching him, and then I pulled it back.
Like the chicken I was, I did the same thing several more times before I worked up the courage to touch him, but it wasn’t with my hand.
I pressed my lips between his shoulder blades.
He stirred. I pulled away and held my breath as he turned toward me.
Stripping was a bad idea; at least that’s what my evil friend, Insecurity, said to me.
The curtains, that didn’t get completely shut, let through enough light that I could see his face, his tired eyes, and the way he blinked them as if to check his vision, because surely the woman beside him wouldn’t be naked.
“Hey,” he whispered.
I smiled.
My arms were tucked against my breasts. He slowly moved my top arm to my side and then my bottom arm. There was no way to hide the rapid rise and fall of my chest or the unfolding of goose bumps along my skin. It was just meant for him to know exactly what he did to me.
Cage feathered his fingers over my neck then worked his way down to my chest, cupping one breast in his hand as his thumb circled over my nipple.
A slow, heavy throb settled between my legs.
As if he sensed it too, his fingers brushed down my stomach, stopping an inch above the spot that begged for his touch.
He leaned his head toward me, laying an agonizingly slow kiss on my lips. “Spread your legs,” he whispered over my lips.
Oh my hell. How did he make that sound so dirty yet so damn sexy?
I gave him an inch, maybe a half.
His tongue teased my lips as his hand slid further south. “Wider.”
Gulp!
I gave him another inch.
He smiled against my lips. “More.” He diverted his hand to my inner thigh and opened my legs wider.
My hips jerked off the bed when his fingertip brushed my clit.
“Do you want this?”
I nodded, barely, but it was a nod. His touch paralyzed my whole body.
“Say it.”
I swallowed hard again. “I want this.”
His mouth covered mine at the same time two of his fingers slid into me. He absorbed my moans as his tongue mimicked the motion of his fingers. I came embarrassingly fast. My fault, not his. As he pulled his fingers out of me, he moved his mouth down my neck to my chest. I rolled onto my back.
“Cage …” I moaned as his mouth made love to my breasts.
I threaded my fingers into his hair while he positioned his body between my legs. His tongue dipped into my belly button as he shimmied his body toward the end of the bed.
“No.” I squirmed beneath him, tightening my grip on his hair.
“You said fingers…” kiss to my abdomen “…tongue…” he licked a path lower “…and cock.”
I gave one last unforgiving tug to his hair. He chuckled, but stopped his descent. “No tongue?”
Maybe it was going so long without being with a man. Maybe it was the slow build up and the “almosts” that day. Maybe it was the lingering effects of the first orgasm. Whatever it was, my kitty could not handle his mouth there. I was so hypersensitive.
“This is embarrassing,” I said in a breathy voice.
Cage crawled up my body. Instant relief washed over me until he settled between my legs. His erection beneath his boxer briefs pressed right there.
I gasped.
He dropped soft kisses along my jaw to my ear. “Don’t ever be embarrassed with me. We can stop.”
It was a terrible idea. Sure, I was a hot mess, but we didn’t have to stop. I teased my hands down his back then slipped them into his briefs.
“Jesus … Lake …” He moaned as I curled my fingers into his hard glutes.
His pelvis rocked into mine, my breath hitched again. I needed another glass of wine. My mom wrecked my frame of mind and derailed my momentum to just go with it without over thinking.
“I need to know…” he rocked into me again and my fingers curled harder into his flesh “…if I need to get a condom or take a cold shower. I…” he panted into my ear “…I’m OK with whatever you decide.” The desperation in his voice betrayed his words.
I smiled. He couldn’t see it, but it was huge. That’s just what I needed to get out of my head. A small piece of his vulnerability was all it took.
“A cold shower sounds really … cold.”
He laughed a little, pressing his lips to my shoulder. “It really does.”
“Maybe …” I pushed his briefs down just far enough to free his erection.
His breaths at my ear became ragged. “Fuck,” he whispered as I wrapped my hand around his cock, warm and hard beneath my fingers.
“Maybe we should work up a sweat before worrying about a shower.”
“I love how you think.” Our mouths collided and we. Did. Not. Stop.
Sweat. So much sweat.
And his mouth? Once I let go, I begged for it.
Lots of begging.
Muffled screams.
Two condoms later, I passed out in his arms, both of us too exhausted to entertain the shower idea until morning.