Cassidy was going to fuck him until his eyes rolled back. She didn’t know why she was so desperate for him, but she was practically dripping down her thighs.
His pecs rose and fell beneath her hands, and her gaze darted down to his lap just in time to watch his erection jerk, the tip brushing against his flexed abs.
Maybe I’m not the only one a little desperate.
“This is how you say thank you? Works for me,” he rasped, his voice much deeper than it had been minutes ago.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her down until her ass landed in his lap, her knees hugging his waist in the cramped chair. The skin from his thighs branded hers with heat.
God, he was gorgeous. His large frame folded into the chair had to be uncomfortable with her on top of him, yet he looked like a sketch of sensuality. His eyes were heavy-lidded; his lips were already bruised from her attack kisses and wet, large, and red. His dusky skin seemed to catch every shard of dim light in the room, and her fingers itched to touch all of it.
A lock of his hair fell into his eyes, and she brushed it away. Their gazes connected and held as though they’d been forged together. “Hey,” she whispered.
The corners of his lips tipped up. “Hey.” He used his hold on her hips to slide her forward, and then he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was soft and very much unlike the ones she’d given him earlier. She melted into him, and he wrapped his arms around her back as he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue against hers.
Her breasts pressed against the smooth expanse of his chest, and her nipples tightened so much they had to be digging into him. She squirmed a bit as his tongue flicked hers, pressing her breasts as tightly as she could to him, longing for a deeper touch.
“Need this?” he whispered against her mouth. One of his arms left its embrace of her back, and his hand eased between her thighs, fingertips skimming over her clit.
She moaned again, this time louder, chasing his touch with fretful undulations of her hips.
“Shit, Freckles.” He sucked her lower lip into his mouth and worried it between his teeth while his fingers explored her sex. “How’d you get this wet so fast?”
Now he was going to talk? She pulled from the kiss, tightened her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his shoulder. “Inside me.” She undulated her hips again. “Now.”
He didn’t make her ask again, God bless him, just filled her with one thick finger. She shuddered in his lap, her nails digging into the nape of his neck. He stroked inside her, thrusting that finger deep and then touching a place on the withdraw that made stars shoot behind her tightly closed eyes.
She made a harsh noise and buried her face deeper against his body, hoping to muffle any other errant noises that tried to escape.
“God, you’re wet.” He thrust that finger again, and the arm he had around her back shifted, his palm finding the back of her head and cradling her to him. “Driving me crazy.”
His words made her blood feel like it was boiling. Her sex clenched around his finger, and she felt molten to her core. This is moving too slowly. “Need you to fuck me.” She groped beside his ass until she found the box of condoms, not even the firm flex of his muscles against her fingertips enough to distract her from her goal.
She fumbled with the lid one-handed until she got it open with a jerk and a rip. Condoms went flying everywhere. She groaned.
His finger stilled inside her. “Need some help there?” he asked in a perfectly calm and collected voice.
He didn’t sound like he was losing his mind at all. “No.” She nipped his shoulder. “Yes.”
With a deep, rumbling chuckle, he pulled his finger from her body.
“No!” She straightened and looked down into his eyes.
He squeezed her thigh. “I’ve got you.” He plucked a condom from its precarious perch on the armrest of the chair, put it between his teeth, and tore the foil packet.
“Yes,” she sighed. Stop it, Cassidy. Stop that yes-no shit right now.
He placed the condom on the crown of his erection and rolled it down. As soon as he was done, she was scooting forward. He was right there to help her, gripping her hips and lifting her until his dick was notched against her entrance.
He looked up at her, his pupils so large there was almost no hint of the warm brown he usually sported. He raised his eyebrows.
She gripped his shoulders and nodded.
“Kiss me, then,” he said in a rumble.
She hesitated only a moment before leaning down and doing what he’d asked. As soon as their lips touched, he lowered her, filling her inch by slow, torturous inch.
When he seated himself as far as he could go, they both groaned against each other’s lips. Gage coasted his palms from her hips up her back, licking at her mouth while doing so. She shivered in his arms, goose bumps trailing behind his light touch.
She rocked forward, sending him a precious inch deeper. His breath hitched, and she didn’t think she’d ever heard a more erotic sound. So she did it again.
“Mmm,” he hummed against her lips.
She had the advantage here. She was on top, and he was crammed in a tiny chair. Oh, she was going to enjoy this.
She put a testing weight on her knees where they were wedged and found she could lift up without sending them toppling over. As her sex clenched his dick every long, dragging inch of the withdrawal, she hissed in a breath. When he was barely still inside her, she sank down in a quick, rough thrust.
He bit her lip. Hard. And it had to have been an accident, because he promptly apologized in a harried whisper over and over again.
She cut off his I’m sorry litany with another rise and fall. It worked. He groaned and pulled away from kissing her, burying his face in her breasts instead.
The scrape of his day-old beard against her nipples made her mindless. The next bucking of her hips was frantic, and her thighs quickly began to burn as she rode him as hard as she could.
He started to help her, thrusting up into her on her down stroke as much as the cramped chair would allow. Pleasure lit like a torch all through her body. But when he captured one of her bouncing nipples in his hot, wet mouth, she unexpectedly exploded into orgasm.
Tossing her head back, her massive amounts of hair brushing against her lower back, she cried out to the ceiling as every muscle in her body clenched as though they wanted to squeeze his cock instead of her sex.
The blunt tips of his fingers bit into her shoulder blades as he pulled her close, shoving his mouth against her breasts. His groan was louder than anything she’d heard from him yet, reverberating through her chest as every one of his muscles stiffened.
His erection kicked inside her, and with one final thrust, he froze, only to relax into a puddle beneath her a few seconds later.
“Shit,” he muttered, his lips brushing her still sensitive nipple. “That was way too fast.” He looked up at her from beneath his freakishly lush lashes. “That was you coming, right?”
She wanted to smile, but every muscle, even the ones in her cheeks, refused to cooperate. “Oh, yes. Definitely.” She sank forward with absolutely no grace, the top of her head fitting perfectly beneath his chin as he slid out of her.
He wrapped his arms around her back snugly and brushed his chin across her hair, several strands catching in his whiskers. He pulled in a huge breath and released it in a slow exhale.
My sentiments exactly. She’d never felt more relaxed. More sated. She snuggled further into him, curling her arms between their chests and enjoying the way his heart still thundered against her fisted hands.
So, this is snuggling.
She froze. Snuggling? Shit. She didn’t snuggle. Couples snuggled.
She jerked upright, nearly clocking herself on his chin in the process. “Um, I need ice cream.” She couldn’t even look at him. “Do you need ice cream?”
“Fuck, yeah, I need ice cream.” He captured a strand of her chaotic hair and twirled it around his finger. Her gaze followed the movement raptly. “It’s the only reason I came over here,” he continued, his voice still deep and husky. “Took you long enough to ask.”
“Okay.” She slid from his lap, cursing herself that she did so reluctantly. “Coming right up.”
She padded away on bare feet, casting her clothes a glance as she passed them. She could put them back on now. But that meant he would probably follow suit, and she wanted to watch him eat ice cream completely starkers. She was shallow like that.
She blindly groped in the freezer until she encountered a frosty half-gallon of the good stuff. Grabbing two spoons, she headed back to the living room.
Her gaze was automatically drawn to him. Still naked. She released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. He’d done something with their thoroughly used condom since she’d been gone, but other than that, he was as gloriously spread-eagled and sated-looking as he had been.
She nudged the other gaming chair closer to his with her foot and sank down into it. The cold leather against her ass gave her a start. It was much less welcoming than his warm body had been.
She silently handed him a spoon and opened the ice cream. She dug out a huge bite and chomped down with a moan. Bliss.
“Freckles, this is peppermint ice cream.”
She grunted and dug up another spoonful.
“It’s July. They don’t even make this stuff outside of December.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “So, I stock up every December. What do you want from me?”
He gave her a lopsided grin that made her stomach do a funny flip. “Peppermint is an aphrodisiac for most women, you know.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Then why are you bitching?”
His grin widened. “Why, indeed.” He leaned forward and brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. Her eyes wide, she watched him return that thumb to his own lips, where he sucked, his gaze glued to hers.
Okay, he’d just made her come her brains out. Why did she want him again? She had the urge to press the ice cream container to her suddenly hot chest and neck. Her gaze skated away from his, unable to hold the intensity any longer. She caught sight of the time flashing from her cable box.
“Holy shit.” She straightened. “Is that really the time?”
She saw Gage turn his head in her peripheral vision. “Oh, wow. Yep.”
“I have to be at work in thirty minutes!” She launched to her feet. “We start my game today!” She couldn’t be late. She absolutely couldn’t. She scooped up her clothes with one hand.
Gage got to his feet, too, and reached for his jeans. Despite her rush, she found herself watching as he eased them on one leg at a time.
“Your game?” he asked, zipping up his fly.
“Yeah,” she said in a distant voice, her gaze locked on the way his abs flexed with his every movement. “Hero’s a girl. Who will not have animated tits and a penchant for sacrificing herself.”
“Seriously?” His arms dropped to his sides, and his abs stopped flexing, so she looked up at his face. “Cassidy, that’s great.” He said it sincerely. Soberly.
Next thing she knew, they were standing toe to toe. She stretched up and laid a topless kiss on him.
Man really must stop agreeing with me. He grabbed her in a bear hug, smashing her breasts to his naked chest while gripping a handful of her ass with one of his massive palms.
This was bad. She smelled like sex and needed a shower. If she hurried, she’d make it to work just in time. There was no more time for another fuck.
With a groan, Gage lowered her from her tiptoes. “I have to go to work, too,” he whispered with his lips brushing hers.
She wrinkled her nose. Well, that pulled her out of the mood. Which was good. Definitely good.
He tapped her wrinkled nose with his pointer finger. “Fuck, I never use the blue pills, but I might have to today.” He released her with a sigh. “Your fault, by the way.”
She tilted her head. “Viagra?”
“Don’t knock it. Most gigolos use it.” He winked. “We’re not machines, you know.”
He stepped back and reached for his shirt. She ogled him. Evidence to the contrary.
“Hell,” he said, shoving his arms through his T-shirt. “Maybe my next client won’t even want sex.” He pulled the shirt over his head, and she nearly gasped as his chest and abdomen rippled. “Happens frequently enough,” he finished, brushing his fingers through his slightly mussed hair, which then fell into perfect, unfair order.
She frowned. “Not want sex?” What the hell?
He shrugged. “Women like to think that someone who looks like me, like I don’t care about anything”—he gestured to himself—“they pretend I could care about them. Seventy percent of my job is companionship. Hands down.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”
An abrupt laugh burst from his lips. “Woman of my dreams, right here.”
A sudden, awkward silence descended on the space. She gripped her crumpled clothes with both hands.
“I mean—” Gage cleared his throat. “Fuck, you know what I mean. Or don’t mean.”
Cassidy nodded her head. “Sure.” She tried to shrug casually, but his simple words were freaking her out a little, and not just because they were against everything she wanted. There was the tiniest flare of warm fuzzies in the general vicinity of her ribs, which she found quite alarming. “Well, I’ve got to—” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder toward her bedroom.
“Yeah, me, too.” He shoved his fingers through his hair again. “Well, see ya later, Freckles.” He winced. “Or not. You know.” He waved his hand. “Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she echoed.
They stood there staring awkwardly at each other for two very long seconds, then Gage bent suddenly, shoved his feet into his boots, and stormed toward the door.
“Bye,” she said as he closed it behind him. As soon as it clicked closed, she raced to the kitchen, yanked open the junk drawer, and pulled out a notepad.
She muttered through tight lips as she scribbled frantically. “Viagra.” Scribble, scribble. “Clients who don’t want sex.” Scribble, scribble.
Two excellent new ideas for the game. She jotted down as many ideas as she could think of in the precious few seconds she had before she had to jump in the shower. She studiously ignored the way her stomach sloshed ominously as she straightened.
This was no big deal. The guy didn’t even game. Besides that, he said these things were common in the industry. Anyone could have told her these tidbits.
She’d been ordered to do this. It was her job—her career on the line if she didn’t. She glanced around the apartment she’d only recently begun to be able to afford. She didn’t want to lose any ground here.
She folded the sheet of paper, walked over to the table beside the front door, slipped it under her keys, and made her way to the bathroom and a much-needed shower.
Thirty minutes later, the clickity clack of the keyboard echoed in Cassidy’s small cubicle. The words were a-flying. Something about this game just spoke to her. Felt real.
Maybe because you’re taking things that have actually happened to a real man and fictionalizing them? She winced as she pressed save.
The wince remained and deepened as she skimmed over the rough storyline she’d been typing.
“Fuck,” she muttered. It was good. Really good.
She closed her eyes. “And I can’t do it.”
This was wrong. If Gage knew about it, sure. But he didn’t. They’d just used each other for sex a couple times, but this was fucking Gage over in a way he had not yet consented to.
Her vision blurred, and she shoved the heels of both palms against her eyes. The lack of sleep was not a benefit in this whole process. “I need coffee.”
She also needed to stop talking to herself, or someone would surely hear her. She lowered her hands and blinked several times until her view of the screen cleared.
Right. Coffee first. Then she would come back and figure out how to undo all of this. Change the game into something that didn’t leech off Gage’s unwitting contributions but also intrigued her boss.
Luckily, her boss hadn’t seen anything yet, so this could be an easy fix.
With that optimistic thought, Cassidy shoved backward on her wheeling desk chair and popped to her feet. Coffee would solve everything.
Two minutes later, as she walked back across the office to her cubicle, there were—she squinted—three, no, four people huddled around her computer.
Shit.
She picked up speed, her scalding hot coffee splashing onto her hand. “Hey, guys,” she said, screeching to a halt right behind the wall of bodies surrounding her workspace. “What’s up?”
Now that she was closer, she could see the four bodies were Mr. Callahan, Chris, Greg, and David.
They all straightened slowly and turned to face her. All four of them looked completely flabbergasted. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Her fingers tightened around her coffee.
“Is this”—Mr. Callahan nodded his head toward her screen—“the new game you pitched?”
Oh, fuck. He hates it. I’m fired. Cassidy cleared her throat and prayed her voice wouldn’t wobble. “Actually, it’s just ideas at the moment, and I was going to make a lot of changes but . . . ” Ah, hell, there was not getting out of this. “Yes, it is.”
God, how long would her meager savings last? Long enough to get another job? In this industry after being fired? Panic started to well in her throat.
Mr. Callahan shook his head. “Don’t you change a thing!” He laughed. “This is brilliant!”
“Wait . . . ” Cassidy squinted her eyes. “What?”
“I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve made it both realistic and bigger-than-life hilarious.” Mr. Callahan smiled. “This gigolo idea is the best you’ve ever had.”
Next to him, David, Chris, and Greg nodded. The still-surprised look on their faces was less than complimentary.
“Oh,” Cassidy said. “Thank you. I’ve been . . . working hard.” Something ticked in her cheek, and despite having only one sip of the coffee, it sloshed in her stomach.
“I can tell,” Mr. Callahan said. “We’ll let you get back at it then. Keep up the good work.”
As they walked away, Cassidy stared at their backs and took a gigantic swallow of hot coffee. It burned all the way down, which was the least she deserved. She set the coffee down on her desk and flopped into her chair, rolling up to her computer.
Her head felt like it weighed a ton as she stared at the document on her screen. The document she had planned to rid of every trace of Gage’s influence just moments before.
When her vision started to blur again, she reached for her coffee, but the blur soon distinguished itself with a stinging. As though her tear ducts were fighting off wetness, which was absurd.
She didn’t cry. Hadn’t cried since her brother Jeremy’s suicide so many years ago. Everything was relative, and nothing since then had hurt that badly. She’d made sure it hadn’t, distancing herself from anyone and anything that had the slightest chance of mattering to that level.
Well, except for her brother’s wife, Victoria. There was no distancing herself from that woman. She was all the family Cassidy had left.
She sobered immediately, the sting in her eyes vanishing. That had been a much-needed reality check.
She sniffed and grabbed her cup of coffee, draining it in one go. This was still fixable. If she ever saw Gage again, which was a big if, she would approach him about this. He would, most likely, be on board. He didn’t strike her as someone who lived a life he regretted, and he’d been incredibly supportive of her game this morning. If he didn’t approve . . .
Well, she’d cross that bridge when she got to it. No need to borrow trouble.
She nodded to herself, tossed her coffee cup in the trash can, and got back to work.