Chapter 26
twenty-six
AVA
I don’t hear him—he can be very quiet when he wants to be—but I feel him enter the room as I stand at the counter waiting for the coffee to brew. He’s silent as he moves behind me. His hands come to my hips, and I feel his nose hit the back of my head before I hear his deep breath.
“There’s something about finding you in my home first thing in the morning…” His voice trails off, and I don’t know if it’s that he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence or if it’s because he knows I might spook if he finishes that statement the way I think he wants to finish it.
This morning has already been intense. If I’m being honest, I’m already on edge and I have no doubt Gage feels it—he’s too observant not to. He knows me better than most.
He turns me in his arms, lifting me to sit on the counter and stepping between my legs before I can do or say anything.
“I liked waking up to you in my bed this morning.” He says it so softly, like he knows I’m not ready to hear those words, but he’s not willing to keep them buried inside either.
The thing is, I liked waking up in his bed this morning.
I might have been teasing Thursday night when I made a comment about using Gage’s bath, but after spending all day Saturday moving and most of Sunday unpacking, I was sore. The idea of a bath was too good to pass up.
After dinner with the Marks family last night I came to Gage’s, where he already had the bath waiting for me. And not just a hot bath with salts. No, he made it a whole experience with bubbles and candles to create a cozy atmosphere.
He planned on leaving me to my bath while he went and did his own thing, but I wasn’t having it. Setting all that up might have been the sweetest thing anyone had done for me. He was taking care of me in a way no one else has before, which was hot. But also terrifying. I liked it and I didn’t want to like it.
Leaving me to relax in his bath like I belonged there wasn’t an option. I made him climb into the tub with me—sitting across from me exactly like he did the first time. Only this time, we relaxed in the bath for about five minutes before things got heated—and not just because of the hot water.
I couldn’t keep my hands off him. And even though it was hard for him—what with me practically throwing myself at him—he took the time to make sure I was truly okay before he laid a hand on me.
Yes, Gage has touched me since everything happened on Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t sexual. He’s only been concerned with taking care of me and making sure I’ve been okay since my return. And it’s meant the world to me, but once I made it very clear I wanted nothing more than for him to touch me, things escalated quickly.
He was gentle with me but also demanding. He was exactly what I wanted, giving me everything he knew I needed without me having to put it into words.
Sex with Gage Flynn is out of this world, and I’m not sure how I’ll ever get over it—if I even want to get over it.
Staying overnight had been an accident—we both have work this morning, and I didn’t bring any clothes with me. But considering I’d been exhausted before I got to Gage’s last night—and he made sure I came three times before he even came once—there was no hope of me getting out of that bed when we were done. I tried to get up to clean myself up in the bathroom but ended up passing out almost immediately.
His alarm had gone off this morning, waking both of us from a dead sleep—something that seemed to shock Gage more than I thought possible.
There’d been a brief moment of panic on my part when I realized I was wrapped in his arms, my back to his chest. But it turned to lust almost as quickly as the panic had appeared. The feel of Gage’s hard body behind me—and I do mean all of his hard body—had me moaning as soon as his lips touched my shoulder. The man had barely touched me, and I was already soaked.
“You’re ready for me already?” he whispers in my ear as his hips grind into my ass and his fingers slide over my clit.
“I’m always ready for you,” I moan.
He rolls away from me, causing the panic to show itself again, but it quickly fades when I hear him tear the condom wrapper and his arms are back around me as his lips trail a path from the pulse point at my neck to my shoulder. He plays with my clit for only a moment before he’s lifting my leg and sliding his hard length inside me. It’s slow and gentle—almost torturously so.
“Yes,” he moans. “You feel so good”
His fingers come back to my clit as his other hand snakes under me, coming up to play with my nipple. He pinches and then soothes—a perfect rhythm in time with his strokes against my clit and his thrusts in and out of me.
He’s moving so slowly, but I feel my orgasm building. He’s winding me tighter and tighter, my body molding to his, my fingers gripping the pillow so tightly they almost hurt. I’ve never felt anything like this—like my entire body is on fire and might explode if he doesn’t move faster.
“Gage,” I beg. “Move, baby.”
“Trust me, Rebel.” His voice is so throaty; I know he’s on the verge of his own release. His pace picks up, the pressure on my clit and nipple increasing, but it’s his breath in my ear and the nip to my shoulder that has my back arching.
“Oh god, yes, right there,” I practically shout.
“That’s it.” He shifts behind me, pressing himself even closer, angling his hips to hit exactly where I need him most. “Let go, Ava.” It’s the sound of my name that pushes me over the edge. My orgasm so intense my entire body goes taught as the waves wash over me. I hear Gage’s release more than I feel it, so overcome with my own, I can’t focus on anything.
It’s minutes later when I come back down to earth. Gage is still wrapped around me—still buried inside me. I feel his heart pounding inside his chest and the light kiss he places on the skin where my neck and shoulder meet.
“You okay?” he asks so quietly I almost miss it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life,” I whisper back. “It’s never been like that for me.”
His arms around me tighten. “That was a first for me, too.”
Gage squeezes my hips, bringing me back to the present. “Hey, stop worrying,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I can’t stop worrying. This feels way more than casual.” I lean away from him slightly, wanting to see his face.
Proving he knows me well, he pulls back just enough to grant the unspoken request but not enough to give me room to run.
“Maybe it is.” He shrugs. “Would that be a bad thing?”
“I don’t know.” I play with the drawstring of the sweatshirt he’s wearing. “My life is still a mess.”
“I don’t mind the mess,” he jokes lightly.
“Gage.” I sigh.
“Look,” he interrupts before I can say more. “Isn’t it my decision if I’m willing to deal with the mess? It’s not like I’m blind to why your life got flipped upside down. If I’m willing to be part of it, does the rest really matter?”
I let go of the drawstring and raise my palms to cup his face. The roughness of his stubble against my hands has a shiver running up my spine from the memories of what it felt like between my thighs. Not what I want to be thinking about right now.
“I haven’t spoken to either of my parents since I left their house on Christmas Eve, but they’ve been calling. Practically non-stop,” I murmur, the worry clear in my voice. “I don’t know what they’ll do when they realize I was serious about moving here. They’re powerful people, Gage.”
“Okay. Then it’s even more of a reason to let me be in your corner. I’m not one to back down from a challenge. Unless this is something you really don’t want, I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t want to put a label on it or tell people, I’ll follow your lead.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “For now,” he whispers against me. “Do you really not want this?”
My hands fall from his face and move around his shoulder, pulling him in for a tight hug. “It scares me how much I want this,” I tell him honestly.
“It scares me, too. I’ve never had a serious relationship—I’ve never wanted one. But I want this with you.” He squeezes me. “It feels right with you.”
I stay where I am, pressed against him, my head buried in his neck. Gage has a point. It’s not fair to either of us if I’m doing his thinking for him. As long as he has all the information—which he does—then it should be his decision if he wants to be in a serious relationship with me. I shouldn’t be making that decision for him. All I should be focused on is what I want. And the truth of it is that I do want more with Gage, but I’m scared. I’m scared of what my parents will do when they find out. I’m scared because I don’t know what my future holds.
I know I’m happy working at the bookstore, and I’m so excited to finally have time to do things for myself, but the bookstore is only part-time. It can’t be what I do with the rest of my life. And I thought I was done practicing law, but working with Scott reminded me of what I like most about being a lawyer. I love helping people and want to keep doing that, but I don't know what that looks like here in Ashford Falls. My only experience so far has been with the firm in Boston, and I know that’s not the type of law I want to practice.
I pull back from Gage, studying his face. I don’t know what I expect to find, but all I see is hope and trust. He’s trusting me not to hurt him and asking me to do the same.
“Can this stay between us for just a little longer? Let me find a way to tell Declan about everything going on with my parents and Brian first, then we can tell him about us.”
It takes a second, but I see the second he registers my words. A smile breaks out across his face, and his eyes light with pure joy. I’m on the counter one minute and in his arms the next. His lips firm against mine as he kisses me senseless.
My mind goes blank except for the feel of him against me. His body is solid, his grip firm but gentle. He doesn’t ask for permission—he just takes exactly what he wants and gives me exactly what I need. It’s the ringing of his phone that has us pulling apart.
“Sorry,” he mutters against my lips. “That’s probably my sister calling. I normally run to the farm Monday mornings before work.”
“You should answer it.” I push him away, a smile on my face. He shakes his head, pulling me back to him by my hips.
“It’s fine.” His lips land on my cheek and trail toward the pulse point on my neck.
“They’ll worry if you don’t answer. Go.” I laugh at his resulting growl.
He doesn’t step back from me, but he does pull his phone from the pocket of his pants. “Hey, Pickle.” His eyes stay on mine as he listens to whatever his sister says on the other end of the phone. His thumb gently stroking back and forth on the skin at my hip causes goosebumps to form.
I force myself to step away from him as he continues talking to Olivia, moving back to the coffee pot to finally pour myself a cup. I grab another mug and pour a second cup for Gage. He watches me move around the kitchen, adding milk and sugar to each cup. I smile at him as I set his cup down on the counter next to him and make my way around the kitchen island to take a seat, watching him watch me the entire time.
Olivia must be ranting to him about something because he doesn’t say anything; just makes a sound of affirmation now and then, sipping his coffee and making faces at me as he listens.
I know he loves that his siblings feel comfortable talking to him about what’s going on in their lives. The fact that Asher kept his relationship a secret really hurt him. He didn’t have to spell that out for me—I heard it in his voice when he told me about it on Christmas Eve.
It’s another five minutes before he manages to hang up the phone. “Sorry,” he says as he places the phone face down on the counter.
“It’s fine. I like that you're close to your siblings. That’s definitely a massive green flag,” I tease, a glint in my eye.
“Do I have any red flags?” he asks as he moves around the counter to my side.
“Well, the lack of committed relationships should probably be a red flag, but…” I end with a shrug.
“But you’re willing to look past that?” He spins my seat and steps between my legs.
“Have you seen how attractive you are?” I slip my hands under his sweatshirt, sliding them up his hard chest.
“Oh, so you’re only with me because of my looks?” he asks in mock outrage.
“Well, that and your cock.” I try to maintain a serious expression, but it doesn’t last long. Especially not when Gage lifts me from my seat and marches us back to his bedroom.
“Well, I don’t want you to regret giving me a chance. I better remind you just how good I am with my cock.”
Gage and I spend the next hour in bed, and I don't think I’ve ever laughed or had so much fun. But it wasn't just fun. The laughs soften and turn into sweeter moments, pouring the vulnerability we confessed with our words into our actions. Gage makes me feel safe enough to trust that he has me no matter what comes my way.
I'm terrified of what that means, but the weight that's been lifted by finally being open with someone—with Gage—makes me think I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. It feels right with Gage.