The Art Of Deception, Book Two, Stolen Hearts series, Romantic Suspense (24 page)

“Andy’s room." He opened the door and stepped back. “Bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Try to get some sleep." He sidled past her and headed for the stairs.

“Gage.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs. He didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“Are you...are you mad at me?” There was a small crack in her voice. She sounded as if she was about to fall apart.

He rubbed the back of his neck and waited for inspiration to come to him. Something he could say that would reassure her. Something short and sweet. He cleared his throat. “No." Yeah, that’ll do it, idiot.

He turned to face her. She’d switched the light on in Andy’s room, and it spilled out into the hallway and over her. His heart clenched hard. She looked so small and defenseless, but brave, damn it. She stared straight at him, and although he stood in the shadows, he had the feeling she could see right through him.

“Look,” he started. “You’ve had a rough night, and I’m...I’m trying to do the right thing here. So go in your room, close the door and get some sleep, okay?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it always so important to you to do the right thing?” She walked towards him.

He looked at the stairs behind him, then back at Sophie advancing on him. Aw geez, what was he supposed to do now?  He folded his arms over his chest and tried to look stern. “It’s too late to get into this conversation. Go to bed.”

“Or what?” She stood in front of him, looking way too sure of herself.

Gage swallowed a laugh. What a little scrapper she was. After all she’d been through tonight, she still had the gumption to stand up to him. “What are you doing, Sophie?”

She frowned. “I’m not quite sure. No, that’s not true." The shadows in her eyes lightened. “I want to sleep with you tonight.”

“Sleep with me." Gage leaned against the wall, his legs turning rubbery at the thought of having Sophie in his bed.

She reached out and ran her hand over his arms that were still firmly crossed over his chest. “We’d probably do other things before we went to sleep."

“I swore I wouldn’t do this." His lungs labored to suck in more air.

“Because you want to do the right thing." She sidled closer, her hip brushing against his rock hard arousal.

“Something like that.”

“Still clinging to those rules of yours, huh?”

He drove his fingers into her hair and tugged her head back so she had to look at him. “You’re playing with fire, buttercup.”

Her eyes melted into liquid chocolate. “I know.”

He slid his hand down her hip and ran it over her behind, then pulled her up against him. “Can you feel me?” He thrust his leg between hers and pressed his erection against her belly. “Feel how much I want you?”

“Yes." The word came out in a breathless hiss.

“Last stop. Either you get out now or you’re on for the whole ride." He struggled from crushing her to him.

Her gaze, wide with hunger, didn’t flicker. “I want you.”

Heat roared through him. His hands shook as he pulled away from her. “That’s my bedroom." He nodded at the door behind them. “Give me a minute. I have to check the locks."

He turned and stumbled down the stairs. At the bottom, he looked back. Good, she’d had gone into his bedroom. And he was going outside to cool off. He unlocked the back door, stepped out on to the patio and dragged in a great breath of air.

Get a grip, bucko. He sucked in more air, and for the first time in years, yearned for a cigarette.

Sophie had made love only once before, and he wanted to take his time, to seduce her, make it perfect for her. He needed a few minutes to get his raging libido under control. Like that was going to happen in a few minutes.

“Gage?” Sophie’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

He stiffened, slipped back into the house and slid the patio door shut and locked it. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

He saw the dim outline of her silhouette appear at the entrance to the kitchen. “Checking the locks, like I said.”

“I thought...you haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

His heart flipped over at the sound of the hesitancy in her voice. “Not in a million years.”

“Good."

When she flicked on the light switch, Gage fell back a step as if he’d been sucker punched. His mouth turned dry and his heart hammered wildly in his chest.

His sweet little buttercup stood buck naked in the middle of his kitchen.

Sophie shivered from the dark heat that shimmered in Gage’s eyes. What had she been thinking to run downstairs without a stitch of clothing on? Waiting for him upstairs, she’d taken her clothes off, put them back on, then taken them off again. Why hadn’t she had affairs like a normal woman? She didn’t know what to do or what to expect, but as the minutes ticked by she became convinced Gage had changed his mind. She needed him, pure and simple, and she was willing to risk it all to get what she needed.

Only now she felt like an all-out idiot. Well, hell. She straightened her shoulders and tried to look like she did this sort of thing all the time. “I was tired of waiting for you.”

Gage prowled toward her, and as he got closer, she recognized the look of wild hunger in his eyes. She swallowed and sidled back a step.

“You should have waited upstairs and given me a few more minutes." He stopped in front of her, took his time looking his fill.

A blush prickled across her skin. The burning ache between her legs made her want to drop to her knees and beg him to touch her. To take her. She reached out and touched his chest.

He flinched. “I haven’t had a woman for a long time, Sophie. I'm not sure I can do this right.”

“Is there a wrong way?”

“For you there is." He brushed trembling fingers along her jaw. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t. You have too many clothes on." She pulled his sweater out of the waistband of his jeans and ran her hands over his stomach. “You’re so hard." She jerked his sweater up to look at his flat, hard stomach.

“No kidding. Let’s take this up to the bedroom.”

He grabbed her wrist, but she swung sideways and broke his grip, then circled behind and wrapped her arms around his waist before he could move. A hard lump pushed against her belly. “So that’s where you wear your piece."

“A piece?” He snorted. “You sound like a gangster. It’s called a gun, and I’m sorry. I forgot to take it off.”

She pulled up the back of his sweater and studied the gun. “I don’t think I mind. It’s awfully small, though. Not like here." She pressed her other hand against the bulge in the front of his jeans.

He cursed softly, but succinctly. Sophie smiled and rubbed her fingers along the length of his arousal. She liked pushing Gage to the limits of his control. Maybe even beyond his limit. “We could break a few more of those rules of yours." She pressed her pelvis against him. The muscles in his behind tightened, and she felt heat building between them as the rough fabric of his jeans scraped against her belly.

“If you don’t let go of me right now, you’re going to be disappointed, and I’m going to be real embarrassed." His words were clipped, as if speaking took an inordinate amount of effort.

The desire in her belly corkscrewed tighter. Just once she’d like to see him lose control, but knowing Gage, he probably had a grand seduction scene all worked out in his head, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. She lifted her hand away from his arousal and grinned into his wide back. She’d have to let him seduce her to keep him happy. What a sacrifice.

He grabbed her wrists, pulled her arms away from him and spun around to face her. His face was dark and his eyes darker. Her breath stuck in her throat as he cupped her head and brought his mouth hungrily down on hers.

He tasted the same, but different. Hotter, more urgent. She stood on tiptoe, eager to meet his demands, but he already had his hands on her behind. When he lifted her up, she wound her arms and legs around him, then clawed at his sweater that separated his skin from hers.

“Hang on." He shoved her on to the counter and dragged his sweater over his head and tossed it. He lowered his head, clamped his soft lips around her nipple and tugged at her breast.

A dark cry escaped from deep inside her. She arched her back and dug her hands into his hair, heat burning a path the length of her body. He raised his head and smiled wickedly at her, then claimed her mouth again as he scooped her up and started for the door.

“Bedroom. Condoms." He stumbled, then stopped to catch his balance.

She felt a smooth coolness against her back as he steadied them against the wall. “Kiss me again,” she begged and rubbed her breasts against his chest, then did it again.

He rested his forehead against hers and nipped her bottom lip. “We’re never going to make it."

“Put me down. I’ll race you.”

“Let me put that differently. I don’t think I’ll make it." He lifted her away from him and set her on her feet, then stood over her, his hands braced on the wall above her head.

“We’ll do it here, then."

“I’m not risking getting you pregnant, Sophie. Hang on there." He grabbed her hands and pushed them away from his fly. “Give me a second.”

Instead of letting him have his seduction scene, she’d stripped her clothes off, run around his house naked and wore the man out before they even got to the bedroom. Tears stung her eyes. She was hopeless at this stuff, even with the man she loved. “I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I?”

“No way." He dragged in a breath and rubbed a hand over his chest, then straightened and smiled at her. “You’re doing it too right. Come on." He took her hand in hers and started up the stairs. “Let’s go make love."

Gage kept Sophie’s hand firmly in his. If she went first, and he had to watch her sway up the stairs, he’d honest-to-God break down and cry from the beauty of her ripe little behind. He’d never come so close to losing control with a woman before, and he didn’t know if that was exciting or depressing. Sophie was one hot lady. From now on, he carried a condom on him at all times. Maybe two. Maybe, he grinned, three.

“After you." He waited for her to enter his bedroom, letting himself enjoy the view now that he was within reaching distance of everything he needed. And what a view it was. He leaned against the door frame, his knees half buckling as he studied the dip of her waist and the perfect curve of her thighs.

He ripped at his belt buckle, kicked his jeans off. A lightheaded feeling swept over him as he glanced at Sophie curled up in the middle of his bed. She stared at him, wide-eyed and uncertain, straight at the undeniable evidence of his arousal. He should have worn boxers or kept his jeans on for a while longer. He should have gone out and dug up the front yard. He should have–-
Cool down, bucko.

He took a hesitant step toward the bed and reached deep inside for some semblance of control. “You’re beautiful,” he said and crawled on to the bed beside her.

“I am?” She briefly glanced down at her body, but her eyes zoomed right back to his briefs. “You still have your underwear on."

Cripes. If she kept staring at him like that, he was going to explode. “I’ll get to that later. Right now I’m more interested in you.”

He stretched out beside her and gently pushed her onto her back. “I can’t believe how soft you are. I want to touch you everywhere." He placed his hand on her stomach and smiled as he felt her muscles quiver. He replaced his hand with his mouth, kissed her belly button, then slowly worked his way up to her breasts. When he teased one nipple with the tip of his tongue, she rewarded him with a sharp in-take of breath and arched up off the bed. The soft moan that escaped her sent a staggering wave of desire through him, and he caught his breath and held it until his world righted itself once again.

Sophie wound one leg around his and pushed up into his body. “This is torture. Let’s just do it and get it over with.”

A laugh burst out of him. He grinned down at her as he felt some of his tension dissipate. “You’re an amazing woman, Sophie Pascotto. I’ve been waiting a long time for this." Like forever. He brushed his lips over hers, kissed the corner of her mouth, then pressed his face into her neck and inhaled her sweet, natural scent. “I kind of wanted to take my time, taste you–-” He felt her fingernails dig into his shoulders and the tension in his gut peaked again. “–get to know your body,” he finished, his voice rough and uneven.