Gage (The Player Book 6)

by Nana Malone

  He brushed kisses along her jaw line. “Do you have any idea how bad I want you right now?”

  Then why wasn't he doing anything about it? “Touch me.”

  Even as he kissed her, he shook his head. “If I touch you the way I want to, I'm going to lose control, and forget that we're going to take it slow.”

  Becker tipped her head up and leveled a gaze at him. “I-I think we can go a little faster. I want you to want me the same way you did before I told you.” Swallowing hard, she lifted his hand off her waist and slid it up until he palmed her breast.

  Heat pooled in her core as he touched her, testing the weight of her breast. A string of curses tumbled off his tongue as he circled his thumb over her nipple. The pull of need low in her belly had her holding onto him tight.

  Gage met her gaze directly as he gently squeezed her breast. Becker sucked in several sharp gasps when he gently pinched her nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Gage. Oh, my God.”

  When he kissed her again, he was slow and gentle, as if he was in no hurry at all. His kisses had her drunk on sensation. He had her snared, and he knew it.

  His fingers toyed with the straps on her camisole, lifting them, then working the straps back and forth, before finally tugging them down, and exposing her breasts. Gage dragged his lips from hers, and his gaze dipped to her breasts then back to her eyes. “You are so beautiful. Your skin is just about the softest thing I've ever felt in my life.”

  She didn't have any words for him, so all she could offer were her lips again. She wiggled her hips, trying to fit herself against his straining erection, and he lifted her easily, carrying her over to the bed.

  He laid her down, then followed, tugging at the hem of her cami, pulling it up over her head until she was bare. She should have felt exposed, vulnerable. But she didn't. All she wanted to feel was his chest against hers as he kissed her.

  He broke the kiss, placing open-mouthed kisses along her neck, then her collarbone, until he reached her breasts.

  Becker held her breath, hoping, praying he would just— Oh, hell yes. The moment his mouth wrapped around her nipple, she arched her back and clutched him to her, the pull in her belly making her cry out—making her desperate for more.

  Gage suckled her deep, only pausing to lick and tease the tip. All the while, he plucked at her other nipple. He paid equal attention to each, lapping at her, tasting, pinching, and grazing with his teeth.

  Against her thigh, his thick erection pulsed and twitched as he rocked his hips into her. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. Like at any moment he could light her up just from what his mouth was doing to her breasts.

  But it wasn't until he slid a hand slowly down her torso that she started to shake. She knew where he was going, and the steady build of anticipation was killing her.

  His fingers stopped just at the elastic of her boy shorts, and he dragged his head off her breast to meet her gaze. As he brushed his fingertips back and forth, he asked, “This okay?”

  Unable to speak, all she could do was nod and arch her back some more to encourage him to keep sucking on her flesh.

  He nipped at her nipple playfully but kept his gaze on hers as his fingers slid past the elastic. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath until dizziness hit.

  “Relax, Becker. I'm not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

  “I-I know.”

  His eyes drifted shut momentarily as he parted her folds and slid just the tip of his finger into her slick sex. When his lashes fluttered up again, his pupils were dilated, and his lips parted as he watched her intently. “Too much?”

  Again, Becker shook her head. “No. More.”

  His half smile was back, and his gaze was distant, like he was putting all his energy and focus into touching her. He retracted his finger slowly before sliding back inside. Desperate for more, Becker raised her hips, working herself on his finger.

  And so went the tease. Eventually, he broke the eye contact and went back to sucking on her nipples, the action making her move her hips faster, but he kept his motions slow and deliberate.

  When he pulled back again, it was so he could add two fingers. Again, he watched her as he slid and retreated. Tested and teased. With his thumb, he began slow circles over her clit, and Becker was lost. Tingling started in the base of her spine, and she gritted her teeth as she chased the sensation, wanting to capture it.

  But Gage refused to rush. Instead, he slowly pulled his fingers from her and slid even farther down her body. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of the shorts, he asked, “Can we lose these? I really want to see you.”

  Hell, yes. He could burn them, for all she cared. “Y-yes. Fine. Good idea.”

  He slid the panties down her legs slowly, before positioning himself between her thighs. When Gage lowered his head and blew on her sex, Becker's hips rocketed off the bed. When he kissed the inside of her thigh, she mewled.

  Gage licked the length of her slit, from her cleft to her clit. With the first stroke of his tongue, her body shook. With the second, his name tumbled off her lips as she raised her hips. On the third, she was sinking her hands into his thick hair.

  Gage lapped at her with long, flat licks, taking her to the edge, then pulling her back. She begged and pleaded with hushed moans and mewling whispers. But it wasn't until she tugged at his hair that he shifted his focus to her clit, sucking on it like he had her nipples. At the same time, he slid two fingers deep inside. Curling them slightly, he rubbed over the internal bundle of nerves while he sucked on her.

  The edges of Becker's vision blurred, as pleasure raced up her spine. The orgasm slammed into her, dragging her in, pulling her under Gage's spell. All she wanted to do was live in this blissed-out place.

  Gage pulled a condom from his pocket, scooted to the end of the bed, and shimmied his legs free. The tremble in his hands as he sheathed himself sent a little thrill all the way down to her toes. Before she could fully recover, he shifted her into position and lay between her thighs. “Becker, are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Gage, I want this. I want you.”

  Gripping her tight, he slowly sheathed himself, inch by inch.

  Becker gasped his name as he filled her. The fit was snug. He was so big, but her body accommodated and stretched to fit around him.

  “Gage,” she breathed.

  “Baby…”

  “Too big.”

  “You want me to stop?”

  “No, Gage. No…keep going.”

  “God, you feel so—” He gripped her tightly to him, caressing her back, hands moving to grip her hips. He moaned. “Baby, move for me.” She didn't need any invitation. As her body adjusted around him, she gripped his shoulders for support and used her legs for leverage.

  When she leaned back for a better angle, he dipped his head, taking her left nipple between his lips. As he laved and suckled, she felt the deep ache at her core. He grazed her nipple with his teeth, and she could feel her impending orgasm.

  He felt it as well, because he stopped and mumbled against her breast. “That's it. Let go. Come for me, baby.”

  Gage kept up the same slow and steady rhythm, as if he were in no hurry at all. But, his clenched jaw, and his insistent stroking of her flesh, said he was as far gone as she. He kept up their rhythm and locked his lips with hers. His thumb circled her clit, massaging it into fevered attention.

  “Gage, I…”

  “Yes, baby…”

  “I—I…”

  “Come on, baby, come on…” His words were a guttural growl, as he pumped and increased his movements. And all the while, he never completely removed his lips from hers.

  The tingling spasms began at the base of her spine again, and spread, until she barreled toward the edge of the cliff. On a scream, she came apart in his hands.

  She clutched him to her as he bucked his hips and increased the speed and force of his thrusts. Roaring, he joined her in a free fall.

  Twenty-Fo
ur

  Gage missed Becker. After two weeks of uninterrupted bliss, he'd gotten used to waking up with her surrounding him. He missed her smell.

  All that notwithstanding, it was good to be home. He'd tried to convince her to come home with him for Thanksgiving, but her father had insisted she needed to come home. Gage had been so worried about her and Daniel, he almost hadn't come home. But then, Sanchez said his family was going back east for the holiday, so she'd be safe. He swallowed the twinge of worry. He had to let her make her own decisions, as much as that pained him.

  You need to stop obsessing and enjoy your time at home. That part was easier now, as he didn't have all that shit hanging over him. He still had to play well, though. Because it hadn't been determined who would be starting on a permanent basis. He'd beat out Daniel for the points, so that should've done it. But the problem was, he didn't want to just beat Sanchez. He wanted that fucker off the team.

  Despite that, he was doing what Becker wanted, and he wasn't saying anything. The guy didn't deserve to be there, after what he'd done to Becker. Gage was willing to bet he'd probably done something like that to other girls.

  His phone chimed in his pocket, and he pulled out. Becker had sent a picture of herself, making a face. He couldn't help but chuckle.

  When he looked up, both Dax and Bryce were laughing at him.

  “Looks like another one has bit the dust.” Dax said with a grin.

  “I guess everything worked out, after all?” said Bryce.

  Gage forced himself to shove his phone back into his pocket and school his expression. “She's good.”

  Dax grinned. “I bet she is, if she's half as happy as you are. My man, you look like a sap.”

  Bryce shoved Dax away. “Ignore him. He's being an idiot.”

  Gage laughed as his phone chimed again. He tried to ignore it, but his hands were too itchy. He wanted to see what else she was sending him. Maybe this time she'd be naked. Hell. His throat went dry. God, that would be the end. He would never be able let her go. And, frankly, he didn't want to. Again, he couldn't help but smile. When he looked up, he realized both of his brothers were grinning at him like idiots. “What?”

  Dax slapped him on the shoulder. “I like her, man, you have to bring her home sometime.”

  Gage frowned at him. “I tried for Thanksgiving. But she couldn’t come. Besides, that's probably for the best. With Gramps, who are we kidding?”

  Bryce frowned. “Why wouldn't you? Mom and Dad already like her. Echo's dying to meet her. Asha won't stop talking about how great she is. Even Dax likes her.”

  Gage crossed his arms. “Gramps, guys. Remember what he did to Tami and Asha? And let's not forget Cole.”

  Both of them winced. Gramps had been hard on Tami, and just as bad on Asha. With Asha, he used veiled racist remarks. Gage had no idea what he’d try on Becker. And frankly, he didn't want to deal with it. If there was a way to introduce her to the whole family without introducing her to Gramps, he'd seize it. He didn't want her interaction with his Grandfather to tint how she saw him.

  Speaking of the devil, he came blustering in, with their grandmother right behind him. She was speaking in low tones, but Gage caught bits and pieces. She was telling him that it was a holiday, and that he needed to behave himself. Gramps was clearly in no mood to listen. Thanksgiving dinner hadn't yet been served. They all had their drinks, and were trying to simply relax.

  Dad was chatting happily to Echo. Their mother was in the kitchen somewhere. All of them were there. Damn, he missed her.

  His grandfather looked around. “What? No additional relatives invited?”

  Fox's mouth flattened into a straight line. “I get it, Gramps. You're upset that I invited Ransom to the house. But for the love of God, he's our cousin.”

  Echo pushed herself to standing. “Please. Stop it. This is Thanksgiving. We're supposed to be here thinking about family and being grateful for what we have. You have another grandson, who's apparently a hotshot at hockey. Yes, he does highlight a past mistake, several, if you count how you ignored his poor mother. But those mistakes are within your control to rectify. Stop being such an asshole.”

  Gramps sucked in a sharp breath, and Gage blinked. None of them had ever sworn at, or in front of, the grandparents. And for Echo to do it, that was huge. Gage's gaze ping-ponged between his grandfather and Echo. Cole, who sat by Echo's side, stood to shield his fiancée.

  Gramps stared her down. “What did you say, young lady? Did you just call me an asshole?”

  Echo threw up her arms. “Of everything I said, that's what you’re choosing to focus on?”

  Gramps wasn't having it. “I will have you know that I will demand respect.”

  She shook her head. “You can't demand it, Gramps. You earn it. And right now, you're losing all of ours. I can't believe you can try to deny that Ransom is your grandson. That his mom is—”

  “That is enough!”

  Every gaze in the room turned to his father. “Dad, that's it. I know you didn't like it when I went to meet my sister. And that's who she is, my sister. You need to come to terms with it. You need to apologize, and come to terms. Echo, that's your grandfather. No matter how much he deserves it, you can't call him an asshole. And as for the rest of you, let's try and enjoy this Thanksgiving. Ransom and his mother, had other plans today, but they will join us for Christmas.”

  Gramps stuttered. “C—C—Christmas? I didn't approve that.”

  His father crossed his arms. “Maybe that's because you're not in charge of approving…”

  Gage frowned. His father was swaying back and forth. His mother stood with a hand on his shoulder.

  “Brent?” she whispered.

  One second his father was standing, admonishing them all to enjoy the holiday. And the next, he was falling. His brothers all rushed forward, chairs clattering backward onto the hardwood floor. Gage couldn't move. Oh, God. It was happening. He was losing his father.

  Becker stared at the envelope in her hands. She’d checked her mail before leaving campus but she hadn’t had the nerve to open the envelope. She wished Gage were here.

  Hell, she'd wanted to go home with him for Thanksgiving like he'd offered. But as much as she and her father were on opposite sides, he was still her family. Even she couldn't leave him alone on a holiday. So far, he'd avoided any mention of Daniel, so that was something.

  Her hands shook as she held the envelope. Carefully, she slid her index finger under the lip of the fold and then, frantically, she read through it.

  Dear Ms. Johnson. We have received your application for fellowship, and we have now had the time to review it. Blah. Blah. Blah.

  The first line was just filler. The real money shot was in the second paragraph.

  We are delighted to offer you a spot in our program this coming semester. Further details will be sent to you, to give you time to prepare. We look forward to hearing from you, and hope you will join us on March 20.

  Oh, God. March 20? There was hardly any time at all. That would be smack-dab in the middle of the semester, pretty much right after midterms. How the hell was she going to pull that off?

  She’d take extra courses this semester. She could work out something with her professors to finish out her coursework with an independent study for next term. She needed to do this. It was a way out. It was her dream.

  Then what about Gage? Her heart squeezed. She'd be leaving him behind. For months. From the looks of it, six long months. The program was March to September. Could their relationship survive?

  The phone rang, and she dragged it out of her pocket.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, is this Becker?”

  “Who's calling?”

  “Becker, it's Dax. Gage's brother.”

  “Oh, hi Dax. Is everything okay?” And then it hit her, he wouldn’t be calling if everything was okay. “What's wrong? Gage?”

  “Gage is fine. But—”

  “But what?”

  “
But, if you can get away, he needs you. Our dad collapsed, and Gage is taking it all pretty hard.”

  Every nerve in her body seized. Oh, God. He needed her.

  “I'll be there in a couple of hours.” She sent a quick text to her father, who had gone in to the office on Thanksgiving Day, of all days. And then, she ran for an overnight bag and her car keys. She didn't know how long she'd be there. But Gage needed her, so she'd do whatever it took.

  Twenty-Five

  Gage was barely holding it together. All around him, the stench of antiseptic nauseated him as he struggled to get his shit under control. Sure, he did the right things, patted his mother's shoulder, gave her a hug, held her hand. But inside, the tower was crumbling.

  After everything he'd been pushing for all semester—his whole life, really—he was losing his father. It was one thing to know that his father was ill, to distantly think that he may not be okay. It was something else entirely to have to face that harsh reality. And he wasn't ready. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to do with his father still.

  But they were out of time now. And that shit fucking hurt. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. There was still so much advice to ask for, more laughs. And then there was the truth. His father was going to die thinking that Gage had held it together. That he'd managed to make it, just like him. He felt shitty for lying to the old man now. But that at least meant that his father would die knowing Gage was happy.

  That was the truth. Becker made him feel calmer. Centered. She helped him tune out the noise, and focus. You need to call her, tell her what is happening. But he was not very good company at the moment. And honestly, he didn't know what to say. She would want to help, and he didn't know how to ask for it properly. Hell, he didn't even know what he needed.

  From behind him, someone said, “Gage?”

  He frowned. That sounded like— He looked around, and there she was. A ray of sunshine in the pitch-black night. “Becks? What are you—?”