Chapter Three | Lacey #3
"You're staring," he said, but he was grinning.
"You're half-naked in my bedroom. I'm allowed to stare."
He unbuckled his belt, pushed his pants and boxers down, and—
Oh.
"Lacey?" Amusement colored his voice. "Eyes up here."
I dragged my gaze back to his face. "That's... you're..."
"Yeah." He moved onto the bed, caging me beneath him. "And you're gonna take all of it."
The promise in those words made me clench around nothing.
I reached between us, wrapped my hand around him, and Gage's hips jerked.
"Fuck," he hissed.
"My turn," I reminded him.
I pushed him onto his back before he could protest and settled between his thighs. Up close, he was even more impressive—thick and hard, already leaking at the tip.
I looked up at him through my lashes. "I'm gonna make you lose control."
"Please." The word came out strangled.
I took him into my mouth slowly, savoring the way his whole body went taut. The taste of him—salt and heat—made me moan around him.
"Jesus Christ." His hand fisted in my hair, not pulling, just holding on. "Lacey, that mouth—"
I took him deeper, using my tongue the way he'd used his, learning what made him curse and what made his thighs tense. My hand wrapped around what I couldn't fit, working in rhythm with my mouth. When I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard, his hips lifted off the bed.
"Fuck, just like that," he groaned. "So good. Taking me so good."
I pulled back to lick along the underside, traced the prominent vein with my tongue, then took him deep again. His reactions spurred me on—the way his breathing turned ragged, the way his fingers tightened in my hair, the rough sounds he made.
"Lacey—shit—your mouth feels—" He broke off with a rough sound when I swirled my tongue around the head. "Gonna make me come if you keep—"
I doubled my efforts, wanting exactly that. Wanting to watch him lose it. But his hand tightened in my hair, tugging gently.
"Stop," he gasped. "Need to be inside you. Need—"
I pulled off with a wet sound that made him groan. "Then lie back."
He grinned at me—dangerous and heated. "Yes, ma’am."
I crawled up his body, straddling his hips, feeling him hard and hot beneath me. But before I could sink down, his hands gripped my waist, holding me still.
"Wait," he said, breathing hard. "Need to know—are you—"
"I'm clean," I said quickly. "Got tested after my ex. Haven't been with anyone since."
"Me too. Six months ago, all clear." His thumbs traced circles on my hipbones. "Birth control?"
"Pill. Don't worry." I rocked against him, and his fingers tightened. "I want to feel you. All of you. No barriers."
Something blazed in his eyes. "You're sure about this?"
"Gage." I leaned down, pressed my mouth to his. "I'm sure. Now please—"
He rolled us in one smooth motion, pinning me beneath him, settling between my thighs. I wrapped my legs around his hips as he positioned himself at my entrance.
"Look at me," he commanded.
I met his gaze, and he pushed inside.
The stretch was intense—almost too much—but so perfectly right. No barriers between us. Just skin on skin, heat and pressure and the overwhelming fullness of him.
"Oh God," I gasped. "Gage—"
"I know." He buried his face in my neck, breathing hard. "So tight. So wet. You feel so damn perfect around me."
He started to move. Slow, deep strokes that hit exactly where I needed him. Every ridge, every inch of him dragging against my inner walls sent sparks through my nervous system. My hands slid up his back, nails digging into muscle, and he picked up the pace.
"Harder," I gasped.
"Yeah?" He shifted his angle, and suddenly he was hitting that spot inside me with every thrust. "Like that?"
"Yes—God, Gage, don't stop—"
"Never stopping." He leaned down to capture my mouth in a bruising kiss. "Never getting enough of you. Feeling you bare like this—fuck, Lacey—"
One hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, the other slid between us to find my clit. I was already close, the dual sensation overwhelming. The slick slide of him inside me, no latex dulling the sensation, just the hot velvet steel of him—it was too much and not enough all at once.
"That's it. Wanna feel you come around me. Wanna feel you squeeze me tight."
His words, his touch, the relentless rhythm of his hips—it was too much.
"Gage—I'm—oh God—"
"Do it. Come for me."
The second orgasm slammed into me even harder than the first. I shattered beneath him, clenching around him, and I felt everything—every pulse, every throb, every inch of him as my body gripped him tight.
"Fuck, Lacey—" Gage's control started to crack. His thrusts got harder, faster, losing their rhythm. "So good—you feel—the way you're squeezing me—"
"Don't stop," I begged, still riding the waves. "I want to feel you. Want to feel you inside me."
He groaned, a rough sound torn from deep in his chest. "Where—tell me where—"
"Inside," I managed, locking my ankles behind his back. "Come inside me. Please, Gage—"
That broke him. He buried himself deep, face pressed to my neck, and I felt the hot pulse of him as he came. Felt every twitch, every spasm, felt him filling me. The intimacy of it—nothing between us, his release deep inside my body—made me shudder with aftershocks.
"Jesus," he breathed against my skin. "Lacey—"
For a long moment, we just lay there tangled together, both of us breathing hard, hearts racing in sync. He was still inside me, softening slowly, and I felt the slide of our combined wetness when he finally shifted.
Gage lifted his head to look at me, and something soft passed across his face. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, my nose, my lips.
"Give me a second," he murmured.
He pulled out carefully, and I felt the rush of warmth between my thighs—proof of what we'd just done. He disappeared into my bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth, cleaning us both with a gentleness that made my chest tight.
Then he collapsed onto the bed beside me and pulled me against his chest.
"That was..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish.
"Yeah." His hand traced lazy patterns on my shoulder. "It was."
We lay in comfortable silence for a while. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, and the fear that had been dogging me since Friday night felt farther away.
"I need to ask you something," Gage said eventually.
I tilted my head to look at him. "Okay."
"Let me install security on that studio door.
Proper deadbolt, camera in the stairwell, motion light outside.
" He met my gaze. "I know you're worried about losing control.
About owing me something. But you don't. You make the final decisions—what gets installed, where, when.
It's still your space, your classes. I just want to help make it safer for everyone. "
Either Boyd or Dad would've just done it. Would've shown up with equipment and installed it without asking, then used it as proof that I needed him.
Gage was asking.
But the fear was still there. The niggle of worry that this was how it started—small concessions that turned into bigger ones until I wasn't making my own choices anymore.
His hand cupped my face. "You make the decisions, Lacey. I just want to help implement them. And if you decide you don't want my involvement after all, that's your choice too. No pressure. No strings."
The distinction mattered. More than he probably knew.
"Okay," I said slowly. "But we do it together. You don't just show up and do stuff without talking to me first. We discuss it, we decide together, and it's still my space and my business."
"Deal." He kissed me, slow and sweet this time. "Partners?"
"Partners."
We fell asleep like that—his arm around me, my head on his chest, both of us finally breathing easy.
I didn't dream about the shadow at the window.
I dreamed about the way my name sounded in Gage’s low voice when he was buried deep inside me, and the terrifying, thrilling possibility that maybe—just maybe—I could be strong and independent and still let someone care about me.
And I was falling for him faster than seemed safe or smart or remotely sensible. And I wasn’t sure I cared.