Quiver (Revenge Book 1) (9 page)

“Yes, Veda,” Gage croaked, his hands moving from her ass and sneaking under the slit of her dress, fingers digging into her thighs.

Veda claimed his wrists, removing his hands. His arms seemed to flex in preparation for a fight, but he let her lock them over his head, the hot air of their gasps meeting between their heaving lips as she sank down.

A moan tore through Veda’s throat at the breathtaking sensation—her body spreading for him, new ripples of pleasure coming to life with every inch of her body he claimed, so rife with the desperation for release it was almost unbearable. The head of his dick tapped at her G-spot as he filled her to the hilt, and she sat up, stroking a torrid path down his arms before she rested her hands on his pecs, using them to steady herself. She dug her fingers into the wisps of hair on his chest, leaving red marks as she rose, high enough so just the tip of his dick remained before sinking back down, her ass slapping against his thighs.

“
Jesus
, it’s incredible. You feel incredible.” His voice broke and he reached up to cup her breasts, squeezing desperately in time with her bouncing hips. He tried to sit up and untie the strap at the back of her neck, his hoarse breath matching hers, but Veda pushed at his shoulders, never breaking the rhythm of her strokes.

He returned to his back, chuckling when she snatched his wrists and locked them back over his head, increasing her pace.

His eyes went to another place as she bounced on his cock, a deeper depth, a level where control became all but lost and a man was no longer in charge of what his body chose to do.

Veda’s eyes searched his, listening to his gasps come harder and faster. She watched that change happen on his face, tightening her hold on his wrists.

He lifted his head, his panting lips begging for hers.

She moved her head back. “No.”

And it happened. A shift—a movement in his hooded gaze, just as powerful as the one creating a tornado in her belly. His eyes fluttered shut, hiding his own storm, but he was on her in an instant, sitting up and claiming her waist in a grip so ferocious she didn’t even have time to think of stopping it. A scream ripped through his throat and warmed her breasts as he buried his parted lips between them, sealing their chests together while bracing his feet on the floor and slamming his hips up into hers with a ferocity that took her breath away.

Veda’s eyes rolled into the top of her head and then fluttered shut when his savage stroke found her G-spot, striking it over and over. Her eyes popped open when she felt that familiar, hot rumbling in her center, spreading over her belly, entering her veins and racing through every inch of her, so succinct and powerful that she didn’t even recognize the carnal sound splitting her lips.

Gage gripped the back of her neck and pulled her forehead to his, holding her eyes as she came, slow and then fast. One wave after another tightened her walls around his column. Just when she thought she had nothing left, his dick unearthed a new toe-curling dimension inside her, making her screams go gravelly and her hips convulse.

“Oh…
God….
” Veda frowned at him, unable to stop that involuntary reaction when another orgasm immediately followed the first.

Gage never broke their gaze, tightening the arm he had around her waist while bracing the other behind him, slamming his hips into hers in time with her hoarse cries, only letting his own moan escape when she’d released every last one of hers.

Veda’s eyes fluttered shut, her screams moving to amazed pants when he submitted to his own peak deep inside her walls, still slick with her precipice.

He buried his face in her neck and moved his fingers in her curls, pulling her as he collapsed back onto the bed. Whimpering incomprehensible, ecstasy-laden words to her as he held her chest to his and thrust blindly, the slapping of their skin bounced off the walls until he had nothing left to give, gasping his release into her skin, her hair, any part of her he could get until every tremor had left him too.

He laughed into her hair, something between a chuckle and a heave, his strong arm holding her so tightly to him she could hardly breathe. “God, Veda, I needed that….”

She kissed his shoulder but didn’t respond, waiting for her heart to finally slow, her stomach to finally relax, her being to finally right itself.

She waited for that
‘itchy thing’ to pass.

Any minute now….

“I really needed that,” he whispered.

Still waiting, even as he pulled her in tight, shielding her as their breathing relaxed. She let her stunned eyes flutter closed, unaware of how much his warm breath on her ear was relaxing her until she fell into a deep sleep.

5

Veda’s eyes fluttered open and slammed shut again, not because subtle shards of the rising sun were sneaking in through her damask curtains, but because it was still there.

That rumble in her stomach. That skip in her heart. That feeling of being perpetually off balance. If she weren’t crazy, these foreign sensations felt even stronger now, with sleep boogers stuck to her eyelashes, than they had been the night before.

She moaned into her pillow, slamming her fists into the mattress and pushing herself up. She tried to straighten her dress, which had contorted into several impossible angles on her body while she slept. It made her feel trapped. Why hadn’t she taken the damn thing off?

Then she froze.

She gasped.

Her sleepy eyes flew to the other side of her bed.

Empty.

Wider now, her gaze scanned her bedroom, head spinning a little more with every new item she found.

The gray slacks still rumpled on her floor. The black T-shirt cloaked the top of her flat-screen. The belt swinging from the footboard. The black boxers hanging halfway off her rumbled red sheets.

And that scent. Musky. Spicy. How had that maddening aroma lingered overnight? How was it still in her room, when he wasn’t?

Her mind shot back to hours earlier, when her eyes had blinked open in the middle of the night to Gage warming her shoulder blade with kisses, believing she was still asleep.

She dug her fingers into the sheets and tried to swallow, but her dry throat wouldn’t allow it. Kicking her legs over the bed, she told herself to remain calm.

But before she could make her thoughts a reality….

Bacon.

She smelled bacon. And syrup.

The snap-crackle-pop of oil. The clatter of pots and pans.

Her stomach hit her feet.

She crossed her bedroom in a flash, tripping over her Anesthetic Pharmacology book, a mammoth text that had saved her life at work on too many different occasions, bigger than an encyclopedia. She caught her fall on the dresser and snatched up the book, cursing under her breath. She always read it before bed and wasn’t surprised that, after the previous night’s events, it had somehow ended up on the floor.

She lifted the toe she’d stubbed on the book, biting back a scream when pain shot through it. Dropping the tome on her dresser, she hopped to the door of her bedroom, grabbed hold of the frame, and peeked around the corner.

He was even spit-shined in the morning, naked as a jaybird, moving back and forth in her upgraded kitchen with a determined bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Spit-shined as he foraged through her Tuscany white cabinets and drawers.

Spit-shined as hot bacon oil popped at him, making him hiss.

Still infuriatingly spit-shined as he threw open her stainless steel fridge and came out with a bottle of orange juice, filling two glasses he’d set up on the island. His tousled bed head fell into his sleepy eyes.

The feeling that shot through Veda, so soft and effortless—like cotton candy—zapped the air clear from her lungs, and she turned away from the sight of that rich boy traversing her kitchen, cooking her breakfast.

She ran into the middle of her bedroom, stopped, looked around, and wondered what the hell she was doing. The adult thing to do would be to strut into that kitchen, join that man for their first and
last
breakfast, and call it all a day.

Instead, she raced through her bedroom, throwing her scrubs, her reference books, and as many of her toiletries as she could think of into a black duffle bag. She zipped it shut with trembling fingers and slung it on her shoulder before bolting to her patio door.

Opening it as quietly as she could, allowing the chirp of birds and the smell of oak to sneak in, she stepped outside and closed the door gingerly behind her.

It was the first time since she’d moved back to Shadow Rock that she hadn’t regretted renting a downstairs unit.

It made it a hell of a lot easier to escape.

—

Gage shut his eyes tight as a sopping wet thumb swept over his cheek. He’d seen her lick her finger from the corner of his eye, so he’d known it was coming. Still, there was nothing in the world more emasculating.

“Celeste, my God.” David Blackwater cringed across the round patio dining table. “Will you stop coddling him like an infant?”

Celeste Blackwater finished cleaning whatever it was she’d spotted on Gage’s cheek, allowing the backs of her fingers to linger on his jawline as they shared a secret smile.

Ignoring her husband, Celeste stroked the edge of Gage’s jaw with her thumb, her long black hair wafting with the soft breeze. “You look so troubled tonight, darling.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” Gage said, taking another bite of his dinner. He shot the family cook a smile as he refilled Gage’s champagne from behind. He always knew when a fresh glass was in order without having to be asked.

“Celeste, would you give him some room to breathe?”

Celeste didn’t break her eyes from Gage, smiling. “Did you hear something, darling?”

Gage grinned, and he felt her trace his dimples before she finally left him, straightening in her own seat while picking up her fork.

“You’re right, David,” she said. “Why on Earth would I show Gage love and affection? You’d almost think I carried him for nine months and gave birth to him. How silly of me.” The smile she sent across the table appeared frozen on her face.

David Blackwater abandoned his meal, leaning back in the white wicker seat of their outdoor dining table with his hands resting on the arms. The family’s infinity pool trickled away behind him. Beyond that, the jagged ebony cliffs that gave Shadow Rock its name seemed to spill into the starry sky and vanish against the black sea. The Blackwater Cruises ship scheduled to set sail the following evening hovered in the distance.

Feeling his father’s gray eyes burning into the top of his head, Gage looked up from his plate and locked eyes with David. He lifted his champagne glass to his lips, drinking in David’s shock-white hair and the smile lines that had stayed around long after he’d last showed teeth. Gage tried to remember the last time he’d seen his father smile, and found himself staring off into space. For the first time in his life, he understood what it must feel like to not want to smile anymore.

“When did you guys know you loved each other?” Gage asked.

Both David’s and Celeste’s eyes widened.

Gage set his glass down, leaned back in his chair, and looked back and forth between them.

Celeste stared across the table with her big green eyes, her trimmed nails brushing a bosom that begged for freedom in the tight neckline of her Calvin Klein wrap dress. Her lithe fingers trickled down the leopard print fabric, settling in her lap.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “David.”

“Celeste.” David lifted his brows, his voice just as bored as his eyes.

“Your son just asked you a question.”

“Do you love each other
at all
?” Gage asked, putting an end to the passive-aggressive exchange he could already feel brewing.

“Of course we love each other, darling.”

“When did you know? I mean, Dad is twice your age. You guys have nothing in common. You don’t even talk to each other, unless you have no other choice. What was it? What made you two look at each other one day and think…
yes.
This is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Reading between Gage’s unspoken lines, David jumped in. “It’s normal to be nervous, son. I was nervous too. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love your mother as much the day I married her as I do right now.”

Celeste met David’s eyes across the table. Her smile didn’t grow. It didn’t vanish either.

“What if I don’t love Scarlett?” Gage whispered.

David shifted. He let a healthy silence pass. “You’ll learn how.”

“Is this what our lives really are?” Gage asked. “Marriage, not out of love or… or
fervor
… but out of necessity? Marriage as a business contract, and not a love contract?”

“A love contract.” David motioned to him, looking exasperated. “This is what happens, Celeste, when you insist on wiping your twenty-six-year-old son’s cheek with a thumb drenched in your saliva. He’ll never be the man we need him to be until you stop treating him like a child.”

Celeste cupped Gage’s shoulder.

Gage looked to her, seeing her smile move to a warmer, more genuine place.

“Darling, where is this coming from?”

Gage took a deep breath. “I just wanted to know how you two fell in love. I wanted to know if there was more… more out there. More depth. More connection. More to life than….” He motioned to the silver utensils and fine china gleaming up from the white tablecloth, unable to finish.

David yanked his napkin from his lap, wiped his downturned lips, and threw it on the table. “You’re not pulling out of this wedding.”

“I didn’t say I was pulling out. I’m asking a simple question.”

“The biggest business deal of our
lives,
a deal that will secure this family’s future for centuries to come, hinges on the execution of this marriage. The future of our family’s most lucrative business
depends
on it.”

“Yes. The branch of our family business that I have never been fully vested in, or even a part of. A branch of our family business that my friend is more involved in than I am.”

David’s nostrils flared. “You sit across this table, implying you’re having second thoughts about a wedding that is
three months
away, and wonder why you’re not fully vested? Why Todd continues to hold more powerful titles than you? It’s because he continues to
outperform you. He continues to do what it takes where you refuse.”

“Maybe he should marry her, then,” Gage said.

“If only—”

“I think that’s quite enough,” Celeste cut David off, ever-smiling.

“No, Mother, let him finish.” Gage shot fire across the table, finishing for him. “If only you could go back and trade me in for a better model, right? If only he were your son, and not me.” He felt Celeste’s grip on his shoulder tighten.

David licked the edge of his teeth. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you didn’t have to.” Gage went to stand.

Celeste clutched his shoulder and put her weight on it, prodding him back down to his seat.

Gage didn’t know when his breath had grown short, or his heart had gone into overdrive, but he felt his nostrils flaring, blowing hot air across the table. “I agreed to marry Scarlett, and I’m a man of my word,” he said through clenched teeth. “I would never sully our family name by pulling out. If only my own father had enough faith in me to believe it.”

David’s eyes softened. “I apologize. I overreacted. You know how hot-blooded I can be when it comes to the business. I just want what’s best for you. What’s best for your mother. We both want her to have the most beautiful things, live in the most beautiful home, and be the envy of all her halfwit friends, don’t we?”

Celeste went from holding her fork to bearing it like a weapon, but her smile never wavered.

Gage watched his mother’s reaction, fighting a slow smile of his own. “Yes.”

David sighed. “Real winners make sacrifices, son. They don’t sit around waiting for the sun and moon to align. They wake up earlier, they stay up later, they push until their fingers bleed. They do the things that others refuse, even when they don’t feel like it, so they can have the things that others can’t. If you want to be fully vested, you need to show me. You need to prove to me that you’re worthy. That you’re ready. Frankly… I don’t see it. Not yet.”

Gage felt the blood in his veins go to a boil, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he was enduring one of his father’s many self-indulgent speeches…

Or because Veda Vandyke’s face had just blasted into his mind for the millionth time that evening.

When he spoke again and his voice was hoarse, he knew it was because of her. “I’m willing.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling his mother massaging his shoulder as he searched his father’s eyes. “You’ll see.”

—

What a pain in the ass that morning at work had become. When Veda found herself leaping behind parked gurneys into empty hospital rooms, or behind whatever heavyset nurse happened to be in the vicinity, jamming her eyes shut and praying she wasn’t noticed, she was amazed at how difficult it was to hide from one person.

She peeked around the corner of the dark hospital room she’d just huddled in, nearly inhaling the grape sucker between her lips, catching sight of Coco. The sun shining through the hospital’s hallway windows was no match for the blinding smile of Coco’s face as she greeted everyone she saw. People who’d been frowning before catching sight of her couldn’t help but smile back as she, quite literally, lit up everyone’s day.

When Coco swung her head to the right, her long ponytail flying, Veda shrunk back into the darkness with a gasp, her head falling back against the wall as she slammed her eyes shut. She reached into her pocket and seized the bronze medallion, clutching it in a tight fist.