Singed (16 page)

Fire streaked through her. Her head rolled back on the pillow, eyes falling closed as she lost herself to ecstasy. Gage knew exactly how to push her to the peak, exactly what pressure and rhythm she needed, what drove her mindless, and he used it all to his advantage now.

She was panting, gripping his head and rolling her hips against his mouth when he at last worked two fingers into her and searched for the hidden spot that would intensify everything and send her flying. His other hand trailed up to one of her breasts to play with her nipple.

She tightened around his fingers and gently rocked her hips in time to his rhythm, allowing him to set the pace as the tension within her built to the point where she became desperate. His fingers found just the right spot inside her at the same time his tongue softened on her clit and his lips surrounded the swollen bud in a tender, sucking kiss. Her helpless cry of release filled the room, the pleasure cresting and breaking in slow, endless waves. By the time it faded she was limp against her pillow, a soft moan of fulfillment spilling from her lips.

She opened her eyes to look down at him as he raised his head from between her legs. In the gray light seeping around the edges of the blinds she could see how shiny his mouth was, and the heated gleam in his eyes. She reached for him automatically but he sat up and she realized he was still fully dressed. Before she could close her fingers on the buttons of his shirt he leaned away and started undoing them with slow precision, watching her reaction the entire time.

Her lower belly fluttered at the sight of this magnificent man baring himself to her in an erotic striptease. The shirt parted gradually, revealing a few inches of his muscular chest at a time. Claire licked her lips and propped herself up on her elbows for a better view. When all the buttons were undone he shrugged the garment off with a muscular ripple that made her inner walls clench.

He was beautiful, all sleek, delineated muscle with a dusting of red-gold hair across his chest that narrowed to a thin line down the center of his belly and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. There was just enough light for her to make out the intricate designs of his tattoos that began on his shoulders and ran to each wrist. She clearly made out the Green Beret insignia on his right shoulder, the arrowhead with an upright dagger in its center, overlaid by three diagonal lightning bolts.

Beneath that on the inside of his bicep in a twining script was their motto,
De Oppressor Liber
. To Liberate the Oppressed.

She trailed her fingers over the words, something shifting inside her. She’d come to resent both the symbol and the words in her life but now she couldn’t deny it was part of why she’d fallen in love with Gage in the first place. To her his ink was beautiful, a testament to the challenges he’d faced and survived, persevering in the face of adversity. Names of his fallen soldiers, his daughter’s on the inside of his right forearm.

He shifted and the light angled across his naked torso. Her eyes snagged on a new tattoo over the left side of his chest. She peered closer, stunned when she recognized her name inked there in a beautiful flowing script, placed right over his heart. She jerked her gaze to his and stared up at him, a knot of emotion forming in her throat. God, that tat undid her completely. He’d permanently inked her name onto his chest even though she’d sent him away and hurt him so badly.

She opened her mouth to speak but Gage captured her hand instead and brought it to his mouth. He placed a warm, lingering kiss in the center of her palm, then settled it over the flowing script and pressed her hand into his skin.
Yours
, the gesture said.

She felt the muscle twitch beneath her palm, the goose bumps that roughened his skin. The need to feel him up against her was so strong she thought her heart would burst if she didn’t get to hold him this instant. But when she reached up to wrap her arms around him he shook his head and removed her hand from his chest, placing it back on the sheet beside her.

Before she could protest, his hands went to the fly on his jeans. He released the button and zipper and slowly pushed the layers of denim and cotton away from his lower body. Claire groaned at the sight he revealed. She was still wet from her earlier release, her body once again alive at the thought of feeling him sliding deep inside her. From the amount of heat in his eyes she expected him to grab her legs, hook them over his wide shoulders and plunge into her as deep as he could.

He didn’t. His thick erection bobbed under her gaze as he straddled her torso with a knee on either side of her ribs and she felt an answering melting sensation between her thighs as she understood what he wanted.

Hungry for the taste of him on her tongue and the chance to give him the same pleasure he’d so unselfishly lavished on her, Claire licked her lips and closed her hands on his strong hips, waiting. She didn’t dare speak for fear of shattering the spell he’d woven.

Holding himself in one hand, Gage eased forward to rub the smooth tip against her mouth. She opened immediately, watching his eyes as he slowly fed the head between her lips. At the first touch of her tongue he groaned deep in his chest, those eyes like blue flame on hers. Again she let him set the slow, torturous pace as he withdrew and pushed back inside, relishing the salty tang of him on her tongue, the way his muscles twitched and quivered each time she sucked or twirled her tongue around the head of his cock.

Gripping his hips tight, she hollowed her cheeks and raised her head to take him deeper still. Gage’s thighs and belly tensed, all those hard muscles standing out in sharp relief. His free hand reached out to fist in her hair, applying firm pressure to hold her where he wanted her, remind her that he was the one in control. She made a quiet sound of agreement and relaxed her jaw as he began to thrust slowly in and out of her mouth. Her fingers dug into his ass, holding him close. As the seconds passed she watched his expression turn harsh as the need to come coiled inside him.

His chest rose and fell in a rapid rhythm, the sound of his ragged breathing adding another layer of excitement. She knew he was close when he let his head fall back and closed his eyes, teeth bared against the pleasure she was inflicting. A low, throttled groan rumbled up from his throat. Claire swallowed around him, anticipating the taste of his release on her tongue. His head came up. He met her eyes down the length of his body and the raging desire there sent a shockwave of pleasure through her.

The hand in her hair relaxed, shifted to her face and cupped the side of her jaw. He started to withdraw but she made a protesting noise and dug her fingers deeper into his flanks. The muscles in his jaw flexed and for a moment she was sure he was going to pull out. But then he relaxed his stance and slid his hand into her hair again, holding her still with firm pressure.

“God, that feels so good, Claire,” he whispered. He stroked in and out of her mouth a few more times then went rigid. A light sheen of sweat gleamed on his chest.

Claire sucked him harder and let her tongue play.

“Fuck.” Gage’s hand contracted in her hair and he stared down into her eyes as he came with a long, drawn-out moan.

She swallowed each pulse until he stilled and relaxed above her. With a gentle caress of his fingertips across her cheek, he withdrew slowly from her mouth and eased to his side next to her. Her lips felt swollen and she loved it. Curling up against him, she kissed the delicate lines of ink that made up her name and rested her cheek there. His arms came around her, holding her tight, his lips brushing her temple. More content than she’d been in months, she closed her eyes and let herself slide back into sleep.

****

Gage’s heart tripped then went into double time when he heard Claire’s footsteps coming downstairs. It’d been almost three hours since she’d destroyed him with her sexy as hell mouth and fallen right back to sleep on him. He’d been careful not to wake her when he’d dragged himself from her warmth for a shower and spent the rest of the time alone rehearsing what he wanted to say, because he knew he’d only get one shot at it.

He was more in love with her than ever, and if she still didn’t feel the same way he needed to know. His guts were in knots about what her reaction would be.

She appeared in the kitchen doorway with a tender smile for him and the sight of it took his breath away. Even without make up and wearing plain old jeans and a T-shirt she was so unbelievably sexy he wanted to peel her clothes off and bend her over the kitchen island. But there was more to a relationship than sex, even if it was the best he’d ever had, and the explosive attraction between them had never been the problem anyway.

“Hey,” she said, crossing to the counter to help herself to a mug of coffee from the pot he’d made. “I thought you’d still be sleeping. If I didn’t wear you out like I thought I did, I must be losing my touch.”

“If your touch was any better, you’d have killed me,” he said wryly, joining her at the island and sinking onto a barstool there. That tight feeling in his chest wouldn’t let up and he recognized the bubble of fear beneath it. If she turned him away this time, what the hell was he going to do?

She sipped her coffee and made a low sound of pleasure, watching him over the rim of her mug with those gorgeous gray eyes. When he didn’t say anything, just stared back wondering how the hell to start things, she frowned a little. “You all right?”

No, he was going fucking crazy dancing around this. “Yeah, I’m great.” He finally broke eye contact and wrapped his hands around his mug for a second while he gathered his resolve. He’d been both dreading and anticipating this conversation for months. It was now or never. “So…we need to talk.”

Her eyebrows went up at that and she set her mug down with a little smile. “That’s usually the woman’s line, but you’re right, we do.”

She hadn’t closed up on him or gotten all defensive. Yet. Was that a good sign? He cleared his throat, drew in a breath. “What are we doing? I mean, this.” He gestured back and forth between them. “Because I’ll be honest, I don’t have a fucking clue.”

Claire blinked at him. “About what?”

Shit, she was going to make him drag this all out of her? “About
this
. Am I just here for you to lean on until you don’t need the support anymore? Are we just fucking while we’re at it?”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Gage.”

“Well, Jesus, help me out.” He needed to know where he stood before he lost his fucking mind.

“All right.” She got up and dragged a hand through her caramel hair, the ends curling lovingly over her breasts in a completely distracting way. He forced his gaze back to her face as she paced back and forth across the kitchen and cut him a glance. “You know why I broke up with you.”

“Yeah, and as far as I can tell, none of those reasons have changed.”

At that she stopped, seemed to wrestle with herself a moment before she met his eyes. “That’s true.”

His stomach plummeted. His fingers tightened around the mug, suddenly so numb he couldn’t feel the heat radiating through the ceramic. For a second he was sure his heart seized. In that moment he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“It wasn’t an easy decision for me, you know.”

He stared. Was she joking? She wanted his sympathy or something, for making the choice to leave him? He might have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so damned gut-wrenching. “You ripped my fucking
heart
out, Claire.” His whole world had imploded when she’d gone.

She visibly flinched and seemed to curl into herself more, as though the words hurt her. And damned if he’d feel sorry about that. “I know. I know it did and I hated myself for it.” She took a step toward him, then stopped. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am for that.”

He clenched his jaw and forced himself to breathe past the burning in his lungs. There was no doubt her apology was sincere, but he wanted way more than that. Except it looked like he wasn’t going to get it. His heart was still beating, had to be since he was still alive and breathing, but he couldn’t feel it. It was iced up in the center of his chest, constricted in terror about facing the rest of his life without her.

Clearly distressed, she took another step toward him, might have come around the island to him if he hadn’t instinctively leaned back in a gesture of self protection. She paused, looking uncertain, and blinked as though fighting back tears. “You haven’t changed,” she finally continued in a rough voice, “but I have.”

He couldn’t speak, just stared at her feeling utterly helpless. He’d given her his heart on a fucking platter the first time and he’d been ready to do it again. What the hell was wrong with him?

She sighed, still visibly distressed by his reaction. “Look, walking away from you was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but at the time I knew I had to do it. I know exactly what sort of man you are, Gage, and so I knew how important your job is, how much your men mean to you.”