"Emma." Gage squeezed her breasts gently to get her attention. "Do you think your not being seventeen means I don't want to have sex with you? That would make you underage. I'm not interested in getting arrested."
"Oh." She lifted one hand and placed it on his thigh, and he almost held his breath as she touched him voluntarily for the first time. "I didn't think of that."
"Age and weight have nothing to do with what makes a woman sexy." Gage released his hold on her breasts so he could stroke his hands over them. "Cellulite doesn't prevent you from feeling pleasure when you're touched or having
an orgasm. Instead of worrying about how you think you look, why don't you focus on how you feel?"
"Feel." Emma sighed and turned her head sideways to rub her cheek against the fabric of his shirt. "I can do that. I think."
"How does this feel?" Gage asked the question in a soft whisper as he moved his hands up and down her torso, touching the curve of her belly, the valley between her breasts, the hollow of her collarbone, and the sides of her breasts.
"Good." She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. You wanted me in the bedroom?"
"Yes. I want you in the bedroom." And everywhere else, but he left that unsaid. Gage turned with her on his lap and helped her stand. She felt around with her feet to locate her shoes and stepped into them with his support. Then he stood behind her, his hands playing along her waist for a moment. "Ready?"
She nodded. He was tall enough to see the pulse fluttering at her throat and knew nerves were riding her. That could heighten her pleasure if she didn't freeze up. He'd have to go carefully. Gage moved beside her and tucked her against his side with one arm, using the pressure of his arm and the steadying support of his body to guide her blindfolded to their waiting bed.
Emma walked with Adam and couldn't help noticing how he shortened his stride to match his step with hers, taking slow steps so she wouldn't stumble in her heels trying to keep up. Thoughtful. Adam seemed determined to defy all her expectations.
Not that she'd really known what to expect. But she
hadn't expected to be pampered, treated with consideration, gentleness, patience. Then again, she knew very well the amount of trouble he'd gone through for tonight. Would anyone go to those lengths and fail to value the results? Adam hadn't gotten her easily, and it made a certain sense that he didn't treat her casually. Emma liked him for treating her and their night together as if he intended to thoroughly enjoy his present to himself.
"You're smiling."
The whispered words were easy to follow. Emma realized that at some point she'd adjusted to the low conversation, matching his volume, and wondered if their soft voices were a psychological cue to relax, making him seem less threatening, less a stranger. "I was thinking how odd it feels to be a present. But I'm glad you're enjoying your gift."
"I'm very much going to enjoy unwrapping you."
Adam turned her and then backed her up to the bed. Emma felt the mattress against the backs of her legs and sat down. There was a rustling sound, and then she felt his hand on her ankle and realized he'd knelt in front of her. He lifted her foot and slipped off her shoe, then removed its mate. His hands went to the top of her stocking next, and she held her breath as he rolled it down, inch by inch, until her leg was bare. The second stocking followed, and then his hands hooked into the fabric of her thong.
"Stand up, Emma."
Right. She could do that. She got to her feet and felt them sink into the carpet's deep plush. She felt unsteady and knew it had nothing to do with the champagne or being blindfolded. It had everything to do with standing in front
of a man who was about to take away the last thing shielding her body, leaving her naked.
He did it slowly, sliding the silk down her legs, taking the opportunity to stroke her thighs and calves and finally her ankles in the process. "Put your hand on my shoulder and step out."
Emma reached out and found his shoulder with her hand. She let it rest on him for balance while she stepped free of the thong.
"Feet apart."
She closed her eyes and let her breath go. Then she slid her feet to shoulder width. The stance made it easier to stay upright, but then he touched her, and the feel of his hands on the insides of her thighs nearly made her legs collapse.
"So soft," she heard him murmur. The hands moved higher until they framed her sex. She knew Adam was looking at her
there
, and she wanted to sink into the carpet. It seemed too intimate, too personal.
And what did you expect, Emma? That sex wouldn't be intimate or personal?
Adam's hands covered her like a fig leaf, cupped her, stroked her, petted her. He explored her plumped labia, opened her to test her readiness, and found her slick and welcoming for the finger he used to penetrate her. The way he was going to penetrate her. She started breathing faster and felt her legs shaking in reaction.
"On the bed, Emma." He thrust in and out of her with his finger, both hands on her sex, preparing her to take all of him. She half fell, half sat on the bed when he released her, then moved farther up onto the mattress and listened to the rustling fabric sounds that told her he was undressing. It seemed to take forever, the time stretching out as she sat
there in an agony of suspense, but in reality it could only have been a few minutes before he joined her.
Emma felt the warmth of his bare skin as it came in contact with hers. His hands closed on her waist and slid her farther up the bed, then pushed her down to lie on her back in a submissive position before taking her wrists and stretching them over her head. Adam held her pinned to the mattress while his legs separated hers. Then he settled over her, hard, naked. His cock rode between her thighs, the head probing at her opening.
The reality of it overwhelmed her. What was she doing? She was lying naked under a man who was about to fuck her. And while her body might be saying
yes
, the rest of her burst abruptly into panicked
no
. Tremors racked her, and she could hear herself breathing in gasps. Not enough air in the room, she couldn't breathe, couldn't—
"No. Stop." Her voice came out thin and reedy, her throat too tight to shriek. "I can't. I can't."
"Emma?" Adam froze above her for a long moment, as motionless as if he'd turned to stone. Then he released her hands and rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. Emma curled into a ball, shaking and unable to stop the tears that spilled out.
"I can't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she whispered, the words forced out past sobs.
"Shhh." He curled his body around hers, then reached down to pull the covers up over them to give her more warmth. "No need to be sorry."
She half laughed in response to that, shaking her head. "Don't tell me you're not disappointed when your hard-on is pressing into me."
"I'm a grown man. I can handle being hard and being told no," she heard him murmur. "I can also take myself in hand if it comes to that."
She caught her breath as a picture formed in her mind of his strong hand closing around his own shaft, stroking up and down, pumping himself into his fist. "Can I watch if you do?" she asked him.
"So you do still have an interest in me and my cock." Adam's arms hugged her close as he rocked his hips into her, letting her feel how hard he was. "I was in a position to know that your body was very interested a few minutes ago. Can you tell me what changed your mind? Was it being pinned? Did that scare you?"
Emma shook her head. "You didn't scare me. And the way you held me down, that was sexy. I just . . . couldn't. I'm sorry. I thought I could do it, I thought I could go through with it. I
wanted
to go through with it. I didn't mean to be a tease, and I didn't want to disappoint you. I didn't want to disappoint myself."
"Disappoint yourself?" He rubbed her arm as if trying to encourage her circulation, her body's ability to warm itself, as he shared his body heat with her. "What did you expect of yourself, Emma?"
"That I could perform, for starters," she muttered. She rubbed at her eyes through the blindfold. "I didn't expect to turn into a porn star or anything, but I thought I could at least manage the basics."
"And why couldn't you?" He stopped rubbing her arm to touch her cheek.
She drew in a shuddering breath. "Physically I was ready. Emotionally, mentally, I'm not. I can't separate myself in my
mind, I can't separate you . . ." Her voice trailed off, then she tried again. "I wanted to call you by the wrong name."
"I see." He followed the line of her jaw, then touched the hollow behind her ear.
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"Do you love him?" The question was spoken as quietly as everything else Adam had said to her, but it seemed overly loud in her own mind. That was the real question, wasn't it? Not whether Gage had stopped loving her, but whether she could shut him out of her heart, cut him out of her life, find a way to make her body forget the lover who had been her first and only.
She set aside the hurt, the betrayal, and the confusion she'd felt over the growing distance between them and her frustration and helplessness as she couldn't seem to stop it from happening, and what was left was a well of sadness that seemed to have no bottom.
"I want to stop," she whispered back, "but I can't. I don't know how. How do you stop loving someone who doesn't want you?"
Gage closed his eyes at the pain in his wife's voice and wondered how he could have screwed up so badly that loving him hurt her. It was a relief to know he hadn't lost her, but the damage went deep. Finding his way back to her was like feeling his way through a minefield. Where could they go next that wouldn't prove a fatal misstep?
He held her close for a minute longer and then bent to kiss her shoulder. "Stay here," he whispered. "I'll be back."
He rolled out of bed and tucked the covers back around her, retrieved the champagne from the ice bucket and refilled their glasses, then carried them into the bathroom with the bottle. He set the chilled wine on the counter and stopped up the sunken jetted tub before turning on the water to fill it.
They might not have much to celebrate right now, but the alcohol might relax Emma. Sitting with him in the warm water, feeling the soothing hydromassage, might not lead to underwater lovemaking, but he'd settle for making her feel comfortable and keeping her close.
It didn't take long to fill the tub. When it was ready, he shut off the water, turned on the jets, and went to get Emma. She'd stayed where he'd left her, curled into a ball, only the bright strawberry blond of her hair showing above the covers. Gage folded them back and took her hand in his. "Come with me."
She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, letting her feet find the floor before she tried to stand. Gage led her to the bathroom and switched off the lights so the room was illuminated by the moon and stars that shone through the skylight.
He settled her in the water up to her chin, set the champagne bottle within reach of the tub, and climbed in to join her with a delicate stem in each hand. Beautiful and fragile, the glasses seemed to represent the current state of their marriage all too well. Gage handed Emma her fluted glass and touched the rim of his to hers. "Cheers."
"You're an odd man, Adam." Emma sipped the wine and tilted her head at him. "I could understand champagne before the seduction, but after it failed?"
"Maybe I'm gearing up to try again," he murmured, leaning close to her ear. "Maybe I'm hoping to get you drunk." He kissed the hollow behind her ear because he couldn't help himself and added, "Maybe I just don't want you to go."
"So you're using a jetted tub and champagne to tempt me to stay?" She smiled over the rim of her glass. "Effective."
Gage settled one arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side. He tipped his head back to look through the skylight and wondered what Emma would think of the starscape overhead. It was dim in here. If he
slipped off her blindfold, would she stay watching the stars with him? Or would she see too well in the low light?
Emma might have suspicions about his identity already, but she didn't know for certain. Gage wasn't sure what she would do when all doubt was erased. Would she be glad to see her husband and not a mysterious stranger?
"You've gotten quiet," Emma said softly.
"Looking at the stars," he answered in matching tones. "Would you like to look at them, too?"
"You can see them?" She tipped her head back as if trying to see through the silk that covered her eyes.
"There's a skylight above the tub." He stroked the upper slope of her breast and watched her reaction to a touch that was more sexual than simple closeness. She didn't move away. "I could take off your blindfold if you like."
"Would I be able to see you?"
Gage looked down at her. She was dimly visible in the low light, the shape of her, the curves of her breasts. But her features were softened. He could still tell it was Emma, but if she expected a stranger, would she fail to recognize him in the partial dark? "A little," he answered.
She finished her champagne and set the glass on the tile behind them. "Then I'd like you to take it off, please."
Gage placed his glass by hers to free his hands, undid the knot at the back of her head, and pulled the silk free, letting it fall between their empty glasses. "There." He slid his arm back around her and took it as a positive sign that she didn't object to that, either.