Who He Is (FireNine, book 1) (25 page)

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Authors: Shanora Williams

BOOK: Who He Is (FireNine, book 1)
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Pleased by his annoyance, I turned in Cal’s arms and he stared down at me, his eyes glazed over with lust. He’d sweated out his perfect blond hair, but it was sexy as it hun
g on his forehead. His lips parted and he inched in, but I tilted my head, pressing the palm of my hand against his chest as my eyebrows stitched.
Does he really think I’m going to kiss him?

“I’m gonna
go grab another beer. Will you wait here for me?” I asked.

He blinked quickly, swallowing and then nodding his head. “Sure. Would you grab one for me, too?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, forcing a smile.

He smiled. “Don’t
be too long, Eliza!”

I
pushed through the crowd, taking a glance over my shoulder as a girl came up to Cal, grinning up at him. She grabbed his hand and started dancing on him. He didn’t object. Good. He was occupied with someone else. I needed to take a breather anyway. I needed to clear the fogginess in my brain.

I dug my hand into the cooler but frowned as I searched and searched only to find wine coolers. Shrugging, I grabbed one and downed it.

“Have fun?” a familiar, deep voice asked from behind me.

I frowned, spinning around quickly. Gage was staring at me, his head lowered, tilted, and his eyes darker than usual.

“I had a lot of fun, actually. Thanks for asking,” I said smartly. “Have fun breaking your promise?”

“I didn’t promise you anything,” he countered.

I clamped my mouth shut, hating that he was right. It kind of felt like a promise. “Whatever.” I waved him off, running the back of my hand across my sweaty forehead. “Go back to her. You don’t have to bother yourself with me. It’s obvious you aren’t going to let her go anytime soon.”

He smirked, placing his beer down
in the sand and sliding the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his cargo shorts. “You’re upset,” he pointed out.

I frowned. “No,
” I lied.
Ugh, what is up with me and lying tonight?
I took a step back, really not in the mood for arguing. It was clear who he wanted. Penelope. I began to walk off, but before I could, Gage grabbed my arm and hauled me against him.

“You’re not going back to dance with him,” he
snapped through clamped teeth.

I snatched my arm out of his hand, scowling up at him. “I can dance with whomever I like. I’ve told you this before.”

He stared at me, reliving the time when I actually did tell him I could dance with whomever I wanted. I wanted to leave him in the silence then. I wanted to feel superior—like a wiseass—so, I turned again, but he caught me, reeling me in by the waist. A few people that were chatting nearby turned to watch. He gripped my arm where it wasn’t too tight to hurt me, but just enough so I couldn’t pull away. He was pissing me off and by my fidgeting and trying to fight him off we were causing a scene.

“You’re bringing attention our way,” I hissed at him.

“Good, maybe it’ll get you to stop acting out and cooperate.”

“Fuck you, Gage.”

His eyes widened, surprised by my crude words. Right after, he smirked and that pissed me off even more. “Anything else, Ellie?” he sighed.

I flared, yanking my arm free. “I told you less than two hours ago that if we were going to do this, you couldn’t mess with anyone else. You told me you were going to drop her”—I pointed toward the crowd—“for me. You said it clearly!”

“I can’t just drop her, Eliza!” His eyes widened when he realized how loud he was. He looked around slowly before running his fingers through his hair again. “I can’t just pretend I don’t know her,” he hissed, his voice lower. “I told
you
less than ten minutes ago that she knows too much about me. I can’t get on her bad side—”

I shook my head, waving him off. I didn’t have time for his excuses. “Don’t tell me you’ll do one thing and then do the opposite,” I snapped at him. I turned, ready to storm off and take a breather, but Gage caught me by the waist again. “Gage, stop!” I was so frustrated but glad I hadn’t embarrassed myself too much by my screaming. The thumping music made my shout almost inaudible. “You’re causing a scene,” I snapped, clawing at his hand. “Get. Off. Me.”

“No,” he said, his voice a near growl.

I tried to push him away
with my free hand, but he was like a brick wall. I tried again, but he smirked at me, his eyes saying, “You’re not hurting me, Eliza.” I flared, seeing nothing but red. If there was one thing I hated, it was people making a mockery of me. Laughing at me when I was really upset and was supposed to be taken seriously. Telling me they won’t do one thing but doing it right after.

I shoved against Gage’s large chest. He didn’t budge. I finally gave a
viscous blow to his gut with my elbow and he grunted, partially kneeling over, his eyes hard on me. His smirk faded; his eyes darkened. His lips pressed into a tight line as he inhaled deeply and a few people turned our way to see what he would do next, smirks on their lips.

“Let’s fucking go,” he snapped, reaching for me
, picking me up, and tossing me over his shoulder.

“Put me down,” I snarled, clawing at his back. Embarrassment flooded me as he marched for the house and a few people watched us, some laughing and some wondering what the hell Gage was going to do. Oddly, I was wondering the same thing. A part of me was afraid he was going to end our fling already—that he was going to tell me to leave him alone, and I didn’t want that, yet I kept fighting him, beating his back to get him to put me down. I was letting my pride consume me.

A few people were chatting in the kitchen as we passed by, and soon we were heading up the stairs. I could feel his tension while bouncing on top of his shoulder and continuously growling for him to put me down.

Gage finally made a turn for the first room he came across and as soon as we were inside, he dropped me and flipped on the light switch. I took in the sight of the washing machine, the dryer, the detergent on the shelves above me, and the baskets of clothes in the corner. I then looked at him, a deep frown on my face. “I don’t w
anna be in here with you,” I muttered.

“Yes, you do,” he said matter-of-factly. He was still frowning, and the longer he stared at me, the harder it got for me to breathe. “The only reason you’re mad is because you want my attention. Well, I’m giving it to you now, Eliza. You’re so mad. Hit away,” he said, holding his hands out to his sides, arms stretched. “Go ahead. Let it out.”

I frowned. “I’m not hitting you, Gage.”

“Oh, surely you wanna
hit me again. You hit me the whole way upstairs when people were watching. You’re mad, right? You were so fucking upset that you danced with
Cal
. I had no choice, Eliza! I had to pretend with her!”

“You didn’t have to go with her, Gage! You had options.”

“Eliza, I told you she knows too much. I can’t get on her bad side. I have to act like I still care… like she means something to me. I have to keep her close. Otherwise, she’ll become my enemy. I can’t just disown her like she’s a nobody. She has connections. She has ways of demolishing me.”

“I don’t care.” I folded my arms stubbornly. “I don’t care about
you
or Penelope or this stupid-ass bonfire. I shouldn’t have even come with
you
. I shouldn’t have even agreed to
this
! I knew you’d do something stupid. It’s just a shame you’ve done it already.”

He
scowled at me, his eyes narrowing and his mouth thinning into a tight line. “I didn’t do it to hurt you. I was doing it to protect myself. My past.”

I kept silent, ready for him to just get out of my face. I wanted to ask about his past, but I was being too much of a stubborn bitch to even bother.

“So this is it?” he asked, dropping his hands to slap against his thighs. “This is it? You’re so upset with me that you want to cancel
this
between us—already? You’re just speaking out of anger right now, Eliza.”

I was still quiet. I was being snobby—I knew it—but I didn’t care. I couldn’t do this when I knew he would constantly choose her whenever she came around. A part of me envied her because he needed her around in some kind of way and it made me sick.

“Eliza.” His voice broke as he shook his head. I finally looked up at him and his eyes were sadder, guiltier. “Eliza, what do you wanna hear? An apology?” He took a step forward. “All right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went with her instead of you. I’m sorry for making you mad. You have to understand me, though. I would drop her for you… It’s just… it would take some time. It won’t be easy.”

I shrugged. It was enough of the excuses. Had he not be
en blocking the door, I would’ve already taken off. He laughed dryly and my eyes swung up to meet his. “Don’t do that,” he muttered.

“Do what?” I snapped, frowning.

“Don’t act like you don’t care. You can’t stand here in front of me and act like you don’t fucking care.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” he asked, his tone rhetoric. “If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be mad right now. If you didn’t care, that stupid dance with Penelope wouldn’t have gotten you this upset with me. If you didn’t care, we wouldn’t be standing in this Goddamn room, Eliza. I’ll tell you something, though,” he said, laughing humorlessly, running a hand through his hair yet again. I noticed he only did it when he was nervous or trying to keep his cool. “I care.
I want you
. I’ve wanted you since day one. I’ve wanted something from you—whatever it may have been. Whatever you were to give me, I would have taken it and accepted it, even if it were a simple hug or a kiss on the cheek. Anything—something. It doesn’t matter as long as it was something with or from
you
.”

My face softened, the ice surrounding
my heart chipping away with each sentence.

“I’ve had too much fun with you not to care. I’ve spent too many nights with you that it would be impossible for me not to fucking care. You piss me off, make me smile,
bring me up, aggravate me—I feel all these damn emotions when you’re around, and if you can do that to me, then it means I care... maybe too much. I’m only human, Eliza. I have feelings, too, believe it or not. I just… I wanted
you
. I. Want. You.” He ran a rigid hand over his face, blowing out a breath as if he had been holding that in forever and was glad he got it off his chest. “So don’t do that,” he mumbled. “Don’t shrug your shoulders at me because there’s no way in hell I can care this much—that I can adore you this much—and you not feel the same way. There’s just no fucking way.”

My frown transformed into a mask of sincerity. He was right. I wouldn’t be mad if I didn’t care… but I did. A little too much. And I hated it… No, I loved it. I was too wrapped up in it that I didn’t even face the reality of it. We had some kind of connection and it wasn’t safe… but I didn’t mind it. I looked past it b
ecause I was enjoying it.

Gage’s head tilted as he moved in closer. I bit my bottom lip, but he reached a finger up to stop me. He then picked me up to place me on top of the old-school washing machine. It was cold and hard beneath me, but I stayed in place, stuck in a deep trance by those mesmerizing hazel eyes.

As he pulled me in by the waist, I gasped. He sank between my legs, his body warm against mine; his chest was against my stomach, his mouth on my collarbone. He kissed below my collarbone and I shivered, biting my nails into his skin. “I hate how good you feel… but I can never seem to stop touching you. Why the hell do you feel so good?” he growled, kissing up my neck.

I smiled. How exactly was I supposed to answer that question? My head fell back as he continued his kisses.
He unbuttoned my shirt and then slid his hand up my leg to get beneath my skirt. He smiled as he got closer to the heat between my legs and I whimpered as he skimmed over it to caress my other leg. He was such a damn tease and he knew it because he laughed deeply. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “You care, all right.” His statement annoyed me but turned me on at the same time.

Finally, he freed me from my shirt and tossed it beside us. I ran the palms of my hands over his chest before sneaking them beneath his shirt. He looked down quickly and then up into my eyes. His were
more intense than before. He licked his lips and I inhaled, wanting them against mine.

Pulling him to me, I cupped the back of his neck, braiding my fingers through his silky hair as I kissed him deeply. He groaned, grabbing my skirt and unbuttoning it. I adjusted myself so he could slide down my skirt, and I heard it drop on the floor. He groaned again, tasting the skin on my neck. His hand still cupped the back of my neck and tingles rode along
every inch of my spine. Making out wasn’t enough. I needed more. I was sitting half-naked before him, aching for more of his touch, but he was already giving it all to me. He couldn’t have kissed me any more deeply. His hands were skimming me everywhere. He was getting a taste of every part of my body.

His lips trailed down my chest and he freed one of my nipples. I bucked as he sucked one of them, pulling me in closer to get between my legs with
a deep groan. His cock poked against my stomach, causing me to moan even more. His head moved over to my other nipple and he sucked it slowly, licking fiercely but delicately and groaning once again.

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