Swept Into Love: Gage Ryder (Love in Bloom: The Ryders Book 5)

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Swept Into Love: Gage Ryder (Love in Bloom: The Ryders Book 5) Page 7

by Melissa Foster


  Not that he’d planned their impromptu wedding, but damn, if he’d known how that night would turn out, he’d have taken her to Vegas years ago.

  Duke’s face appeared beside Cash. His oldest brother looked a lot like their father, dark and serious. “You act like you’re already married.”

  It was hell holding his tongue when he wanted to shout his confirmation from the rooftops. “What can I say, bro? Wishful thinking, I guess.” Gage checked his watch. It was nearly eight o’clock. Sally had gone back to her room after dinner to shower and change. She’d been in there forever, and every minute away from her felt like an hour. “So, what’s up? Why’d you want to Skype?”

  “Because I wanted to show you this.” Duke held up a sonogram picture, pride gleaming in his eyes, alongside something more serious.

  An unspoken, misdirected apology, maybe?

  Gage smiled, nodding in a way he knew Duke would interpret just as he should—that Gage was more than fine with the news, and thrilled for him. “Gabby’s pregnant? Man, that’s awesome! Congratulations. When’s the baby due?”

  “Early May,” Duke answered. “We wanted to wait until we passed the first trimester. Doc says everything looks good.”

  “Dude, I’m so happy for you.”

  “Yeah, this guy has no idea what he’s in for.” Cash handed Coco to Duke and turned to pick up Seth from the playpen behind him. “My kids have decided they no longer need to go to bed until they’ve worn me and Siena out.”

  “I’m sure it’s worth it, though,” Gage said. “Listen, I’ve got to get Sally to hurry up. We’re going to check out a band for the grand opening. Kiss my niece and nephew for me, and, Duke, give Gabby a big hug for me.”

  “Will do,” Duke said.

  After he ended the call, he grabbed his wallet and knocked on the adjoining door. “Sal? You almost ready?”

  The door swung open and she stood before him in a slinky little sweaterdress that showed off her gorgeous legs.

  “Sorry. I was on the phone with Gabby and Siena.” Her head was tilted to the side as she fiddled with her earring, leaving her neck exposed.

  He didn’t waste a second before going in for a taste. “You heard the news?” He wasn’t surprised. She was as close to his sisters-in-law as his own sister was.

  “Yes. Isn’t it exciting?” She held on to his forearm as he covered her neck with kisses. “Gabby said Duke was going to tell you tonight, too.”

  “Mm. He did. They’re very lucky. Almost as lucky as me. I have the hottest wife on the planet.” His hands roamed over her bottom. “You look good enough to eat, baby. Maybe we should blow off the band. We are newlyweds after all.”

  She stilled, and trapped her lip between her teeth, like she loved the sound of that. A long moment later, she said, “We can’t,” and shook out her hair. It fell lustrous and shiny over her shoulders. “I went online to check out the band and found out this is their last gig until after the holidays.” She grabbed a brush from the dresser and hurried into the bathroom.

  He watched her brush her hair, and when her eyes drifted over the counter, brows furrowed, he looked around the bedroom and spotted her favorite hair product. He snagged the bottle and handed it to her. He’d seen her get ready so many times he knew her routine by heart. She’d flip her head upside down, spray three times, then flip it back over, magically making her hair appear fuller.

  “That’s a shame,” he said as she flipped, spritzed, and directed her long locks away from her face. “Because I can think of at least a dozen things I’d like to do with my wife right now.”

  She set the spray can on the counter, watching him in the mirror as he stepped behind her and placed his hands on her hips. “You smell like summer rain and newlywed.”

  “What’s with you and all this newlywed talk?” She turned in his arms, smiling up at him. “You probably shouldn’t call me your wife around the band tonight in case they’re really good and they agree to play at the grand opening, and you know…something goes wrong.”

  “You really need to stop worrying about that. The opening is months away. You’ll be telling everyone way before that,” he said confidently.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said with a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. “But still.”

  He clung to that glimmer, and her admission, and took her left hand in his, noticing the ink was almost gone from her finger. His gut clenched, and he took a stab at getting her to change her mind. “Are we suggesting we pretend we’re single tonight? Because I have to warn you, I’m a major chick magnet.”

  She laughed. “That you are.” She went into the bedroom and bent to pick up one of her fuck-me boots. “Not single, just not married.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on the boot. Every time she wore those boots, he imagined making love to her when she was naked, except for those sexy suede boots. One day…

  She pointed to her other boot, giving him a don’t-count-your-chickens look. “Can you please hand me my boot?”

  He picked it up and said, “The husband hands the wife her boot.”

  She laughed and he knelt before her. “The husband helps his beautiful wife put on her boot.” He ran his hands slowly up her leg and back down. “As long as I’m down here…” He bent forward and kissed her inner thigh, running his hands up her leg again.

  She put her hands over his, her eyes warning and pleading at once.

  He scooched forward on his knees, perched between her legs, and wound his arms around her waist. “I’m not going to miss any signals this time.”

  “You’re making me nervous again,” she whispered.

  “And…?”

  “And we can’t miss the band. I promised Danica.”

  “And…? I’m not missing any signals tonight, remember? I’m picking up on one that I can’t read. Help me interpret it.”

  “I’m not used to you like this,” she said, and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “I can’t just let you do that.”

  “Ah, my girl needs kisses and foreplay. Duly noted.”

  She pressed her hands to his cheeks with an unstoppable smile and said, “Stop embarrassing me!”

  He gave her a chaste kiss and sat back on his heels to help her with her boot. “Fine, but you’re cute when you’re embarrassed, and you’re wearing fuck-me boots, which is like visual torture. I’ll be turned on all night.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “Bird, you naughty girl.” He leaned in, and she drew back, shaking her head. “Damn, baby. I’m just going to warn you now. By the time we get together, I’m going to be incapable of holding back.”

  Her fingers dug into the edge of the bed, and heat flared in her sweet baby blues.

  “You’re still my wife, whether or not I’m allowed to call you that. So let’s not play the single game at the bar tonight.”

  She leaned in so close, he thought she was going to kiss him, but her gaze moved over his face, and a sassy smile formed on her lips. “Someone’s afraid of getting jealous because his wife is a dude magnet.”

  He scoffed and pushed to his feet. Guys were always checking Sally out, but there was no doubt in his mind—or apparently in hers—that he’d become more possessive of her since Vegas. The only difference was that now he could show it, whereas before he’d kept those feelings chained up.

  She smoothed the front of the slinky little number she was wearing and fluttered her long lashes as she handed him her hotel keycard. “This is going to be so fun.”

  Chapter Six

  WHILE THE QUAINT small town of Oak Falls reminded Sally of home, JJ’s Pub was like a whole different world. It smelled of leather, a hard day’s work, and lost inhibitions. Music blared from the band in the back of the bar, where colored lights misted down on a stage she couldn’t see. Gage held her hand, leading her through a crowd of twentysomethings who were bobbing to a country song. Gage’s broad shoulders and the determined set of his jaw gave off an authoritative air, and the crowd
parted for them. Sally clung tightly to him as women cast lustful gazes his way and men sized him up. They passed an archway, and she caught a glimpse of a burly, bearded guy riding a mechanical bull in the next room as a throng of women cheered him on. For the first time in a long time, Sally felt her age, and completely out of her element. She’d had Rusty so young, she’d missed out on the single years of bars and parties and skipped straight ahead to soccer mom and then widowed parent.

  Gage’s arm came around her waist, guiding her in front of him, his body forming a protective shield around her, as if he knew exactly what she was feeling.

  He put his mouth beside her ear and said, “Stay close to me, bird. I’d hate to have to kill some guy for touching you.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at that. Did he not feel the stares of all the young, beautiful women checking him out?

  The line at the bar was five people deep. Gage slid one large hand to her stomach and the other across her chest, like a seat belt. She could feel his heart beating against her back. It was such an intimate embrace, it reminded her of their night out in Vegas, when he’d also been overly possessive. Her nerves went a little crazy, as they had earlier, when he’d been on his knees putting on her boots and he’d made the innuendo about what he could do while he was down there. She remembered with shocking clarity exactly how good he’d been at the particular thing he had offered. She didn’t have to reach far to recall the scratch of his scruff on her thighs or his talented mouth driving her out of her mind. A streak of heat coursed through her. Great. Now she was getting all hot and bothered again.

  “The line’s not moving,” Gage said, his warm breath caressing her cheek, making her even more aware of every inch of him.

  His fingers covered the span of her stomach, pressing into her belly, his arm sank into the pillows of her breasts, and his chest muscles contracted as he held her captive against his hard body.

  Suddenly Gage was on the move, weaving deeper into the crowd, closer to the stage, keeping Sally trapped against his chest. The driving pulse of the music thrummed, rough and alive, drilling beneath her skin, until she breathed to the same staccato beat. Gage turned her in his arms, never once fully releasing her as he brought her tight against him in another proprietary embrace. His piercing blue eyes were entrancing, more libidinous than ever, as if the oppressive heat of the crowd, the provocative bumping and grinding around them, was a drug in and of itself, luring him in and leaving his inhibitions behind.

  When he lowered his face beside hers, the scratch of his whiskers brought memories of his rough kisses. She wound her arms around his neck, giving herself over to the hypnotic riff of the guitar, and closed her eyes.

  “In case you’ve forgotten”—Gage’s deep voice slid into her ear—“I’m crazy about you, bird.”

  She was sure she’d melt into a puddle right there on the dance floor. His hands moved over her back, into her hair, tugging and tangling, and eventually skimmed down her hips and caressed her bottom. She didn’t want to think about the youth center, or the band they were checking out, or the way she’d felt old and out of place when they’d first arrived. She wanted to disappear into the long, sensual strokes of Gage’s hands and give herself over to the intoxicating draw of his masterful seduction.

  His lips grazed her cheek. “My wife is the most beautiful woman in here.”

  Oh, this man! He’d always had a way of making her feel special, but when he turned on the charm she was powerless to resist him. They swayed to the erotic beat of desire, with an undercurrent of freedom that could only come from being far away from their real world. When he pressed his warm, soft lips to her neck, lust pooled deep inside her. And when he brought those lips to hers, she didn’t hesitate opening up for him. She wanted this. The dancing. The titillation of what would come next. The full-body anticipation rattling her from the inside out, making her body throb and ache and swallowing her whole.

  When the song came to an end, Gage and Sally didn’t stop moving to their own private beat. He gazed into her eyes, holding her even tighter as people moved around them and the band began playing another song. He spoke into her ear, rough and soft at once. “I don’t know how to draw the line again, Sally. I’ve wanted you for so long, in my head you’re already mine. Everything changed when that door opened, and I don’t want to close it. I know I can’t call you my wife while we’re here, but I need to kiss you, bird. Right here, right now—”

  Sally turned and their mouths collided. Her hands pushed into his hair as he took control, angling their bodies exactly where he wanted them and fitting them together like a puzzle, so close heat whipped through her like a hurricane and stole her breath, then gave it back in fits and spurts. Desire radiated from her core, pulling her further in to him. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind a whisper of a warning sounded. They shouldn’t be making this type of public display in the town where they were setting up the center, but she didn’t want to stop. She felt every inch of his hard heat against her belly, and that warning melted away.

  A tormented sound escaped his lips as he tore his mouth away. His hands fisted in her hair, his gaze hot and conflicted. “The band,” he said before taking her in another scorching kiss, like he couldn’t stand even the few seconds they were apart.

  He pulled away again, which was good, because Sally didn’t have the strength to do it herself. All around them couples danced and groped, and she realized no one was watching them. They actually fit in with this steamy, needy crowd in which she’d felt so out of place.

  They both shot a look toward the stage, each silently waging their own internal battle. Even through her lusty haze Sally recognized Sable Montgomery from the pictures she’d seen online. Long dark hair tumbled out from beneath a black cowgirl hat, hanging wild and thick like a horse’s mane. She played the guitar like it was an appendage she’d been born with, and belted out the song in a voice as sweet and rough as whiskey. Sally knew this was the band’s last gig while she and Gage were in town, and they needed to connect with them. But when Gage’s hand moved to the nape of her neck, drawing her mouth back to his, her desire took over, pushing that responsible, practical woman out of the way. Hell, she’d knock that bitch down if that’s what it took, because Gage’s mouth was hot and hungry and his lips sweet and demanding. She wanted to stay there all night long, lost in him, loved by him, feeling free for the first time since she was a teenager.

  She didn’t know what had changed, but this was too right to ignore. She wasn’t going to feel guilty for loving Gage. But she would feel guilty for not following through on her responsibility to Danica.

  She reluctantly broke their connection. “We promised Danica.”

  His gaze flicked to the stage, then back to Sally, and she knew he was struggling with the same commitment. The muscles in his jaw bunched. He cursed under his breath and lowered his mouth beside her ear again. She was coming to crave those private whispers.

  “We’ve worked all day. The only work I want to do is loving you, bird.”

  Yes, please. She glanced at the stage again, her mind racing through possible excuses she could give Danica. There were plenty that Danica would probably buy, but that wasn’t how Sally lived her life, telling lies. She shifted her gaze to Gage again, and he untangled her finger from where she’d been absently twisting her hair around it.

  With a look full of repressed sexual desire and reluctant defeat, he gathered her in his arms and said, “Think they have an ice pack behind the bar?”

  GAGE STOOD BY the bar thinking of hairy, sweaty men in an effort to calm his raging erection. The area was so crowded, Sally stood sideways, her softness pressed against him. Every time she moved, he had to refocus on those imaginary erection reducers. It was a losing battle.

  “Don’t you want a drink?” she asked, her nervous gaze moving to the bar.

  A guy brushed against her shoulder and Gage pulled her against him, glaring at the offender. Sally’s hands covered his chest, her eyes glosse
d over, soft and seductive, holding his rapt attention.

  “No drinks,” he ground out. “When I have you in my bed, I want to be stone-cold sober.”

  Her eyes widened as she climbed out of her comfort zone and into the darker place he was pushing her. He knew what she wanted, what she needed, and he wasn’t about to let up. If it weren’t for their responsibility to Danica, he’d have hauled her pretty little ass off the dance floor and she’d be back at the hotel enjoying orgasm number two or three by now.

  Aw fuck.

  He conjured more images of ugly men, and when that didn’t work, he hit himself with the image that always calmed his jets. His parents.

  Another song ended, and the band announced a break. A group of women came off the dance floor, laughing and fanning their faces. A gorgeous blonde wedged herself between Sally and the guy behind her, flashing a flirtatious smile at Gage. She had eyes that spelled trouble and a smile that said she meant it.

  This girl had balls, considering Sally was plastered against him, and he was sure he had about ten years on her. Sally was busy watching the band come off the stage. Gage cradled Sally’s much more beautiful face and kissed her. He felt Sally startle, and he kissed her more sensually, disappearing into her as she went boneless against him. They remained entwined for a long time, deepening the kiss and getting lost in each other all over again. Gage came away slowly, pressing several softer kisses to Sally’s luscious mouth before finally meeting the blonde’s gaze. There was no way she didn’t get the message.

  Holy shit. She looked like she was turned on. That was not the reaction he was hoping for.

  The blonde flashed that smile again and hollered, “JJ!” to the bartender.

  JJ sauntered over, eyeing her like he knew her well. “What can I get for you, darlin’?”

 

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