“First off, I’m the first to admit—zombies? Give me a machete. Island? Give me a couple days before I go insane.” She smiled at him. “I’d bring my favorite book, salted caramel, and my iPad.”
“Those are the most impractical things I’ve heard.”
“Never said it had to be practical. Just has to get me through a couple days until I wither away from too much sun and impending insanity.”
His low chuckle vibrated through her chest.
“Oh, and sushi. Because why the hell not?”
Gage shuddered. “I’ll pass on that.”
“Excuse me. Sushi makes an excellent meal.”
“Maybe if you don’t have a heat source and are desperate. Which I guess on a deserted island you would be.”
“It’s my go-to food.” In fact, the first place she’d be stopping after her flight home was Sushi Mio. Stress-eating her feelings seemed like an appropriate way to fill the Gage void.
He blanched.
“Fine. What do you deem as an appropriate food?”
“Cornbread? Fried chicken? Grits?”
Yuck. Grits? Wasn’t that like oatmeal but…grittier? Yeah, she didn’t understand that southern staple one bit. “You lost me at grits.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’d like my grits.”
She had no doubt she’d like anything this man dished up. He could make her burned toast, and she’d still eat it with a smile on her face. The lucky woman who ended up with this man—who probably would cook breakfast every morning—would decidedly hit the jackpot. “I’d need a lot of convincing of this.”
“Grits is a staple food where I’m from.”
“Let’s just agree that your opinion has obviously been warped by that South Carolina sun.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s a known fact. Plus, that whole southern accent must affect your taste buds in some way,” she teased. Yeah, right. The only thing his accent did was dampen her panties.
“Now you’re just asking for it.” He grabbed her ankle and pulled Abby into his lap. She giggled as water sloshed out of the hot tub and their skin molded together. His lips swept across hers, and she was pulled under his spell once more. She could stay in here all night—heck, she could stay here for a year, and it still wouldn’t be enough time with him. What was it that made him different? Sadly, she wouldn’t have the chance to find out.
But she wouldn’t let that thought ruin the remaining hours they had. Even when they weren’t connected in the most intimate of ways, just being with Gage had a calming effect on her.
The next hour was spent with lazy kisses, wandering fingers, and the general satisfaction of laying against Gage’s chest.
After changing into sweats, they wandered back into the living room and plopped down in the corner of the couch.
“I say we see what the Winchester has for a cable plan,” he said, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen on her cheek behind her ear.
“It’s a hotel, so probably crappy reruns and basic cable.”
Gage arched a brow. “How many hotels do you know that would skimp on cable if they had customers paying for a basketball court on the roof of their penthouse?”
She nodded and smiled, pressing her nose into his shirt. Inhaling deeply, she put his scent to memory—body wash, laundry detergent, the hint of his cologne, and something that could only be described as undeniably male. “Good point.”
Gage reached for the remote and clicked it on. An action movie blared through the surround sound system, and he worked at lowering the volume. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Let’s just flip through and see? Maybe there’s a good horror flick on.” Honestly, the show didn’t matter. All she wanted to do was enjoy these last few hours, get lost in Gage and his warmth and the way he made her feel. She closed her eyes and continued tracing her fingers over his chest and down his arms. There would not be one inch that she wouldn’t know by heart. Maybe she should invest in a body pillow. There had to be something for single people—a Build-A-Boyfriend. But even a pillow wouldn’t be able to replicate every dip and swell of his muscles, the warmth of his skin, the way his voice vibrated against her ear.
Her eyes shot open, and a zip of panic speared at her gut. Um, holy shit. How did she go from totally unattached and definitely not looking, to contemplating where to make a life-size pillow replica of Gage? Yep, that dangerous thought was being stuffed back down into the depths of not happening again.
“A woman after my own heart.”
Her pulse beat at the pace of hummingbird wings upon hearing this. Damn Gage and his wonderfully talented mouth…and tongue…
How was she supposed to go back to all those guys who gave her subpar sex and one-eighth of an orgasm. Hell, a sneeze got her closer to climax than some of those duds.
Okay, you need to play it cool. You’ve got this one-night stand thing on lockdown.
Right. That needed to play on a loop in her mind. She’d better carpe as much damn diem as possible, because come tomorrow, she’d be living in empty-bed purgatory for the foreseeable future. “You do the cooking, and I’ll pick the entertainment. This sounds like an awesome arrangement.”
“As long as some of the entertainment has to do with the bedroom, I’m all for that.”
She smirked up at him. Their eyes met, and the very center of her heart melted. Gage was so much different than any other guy she’d met. He was multifaceted like a rare diamond. He was kind and sweet, but in the bedroom he turned into something that she’d never experienced before, something that made her actually want to have sex, and more than her scheduled time. In fact, she hadn’t thought about her schedule all weekend—and that never happened. That was it—sex schedule was going in the trash. Because if this was what she was missing all these years, she wanted to make up for lost time.
She glanced back to the TV and smiled.
“I know it’s not a horror film, but how about Blazing Saddles?”
“Is that even a question? It’s a classic,” he said.
They settled in and the opening credits ran along the screen. Normally she hated when people talked during movies, but she couldn’t pass up this opportunity, not when the clock was ticking down, and she had approximately ten more hours until they parted ways. “Gage?”
He looked down from the movie, and his brows creased together. “What’s up?”
“Thanks for this. I needed this weekend. More than I knew.” Gage had officially ruined her.
A lazy grin etched his face and lit a fire under her skin. “Best weekend I’ve had in years.”
She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. “It’s going to suck going back to reality on Monday.”
“Same.” His fingers skimmed along her arm. “Somehow I don’t think any of my other flights will be nearly as exciting.”
“Maybe you’ll have another Les Miserables lover.”
“Shit, I hope not. I’d much rather have you in that tiny pencil skirt.” The scruff on his chin grazed her cheek as he whispered in her ear. “With your panties getting soaking wet while watching porn.” His fingers worked under the band on her sweats and found their way to her thong. They teased along the edge of the lace, his index finger barely grazing over her clit.
Okay, so the movie had been hot, but that wasn’t the reason Abby had been wet on the plane. No, that was all Gage and his gravelly voice and inhibition-melting gaze. “It was so not porn.”
He shifted his gaze to her.
“Okay, so it was pretty much porn.”
She smiled to herself. Gage called it like it was. She admired the man for not holding back. God, why did it have to suck so much that this was their last night together? She’d only known him forty-eight hours. This shouldn’t be so hard, and yet, she wanted to see him again.
“Not even good porn,” he added. “I wish I had more time with you. Show you how fucking good it can be.” With that, he pushed her down onto the couch and made quick work at re
moving her pants. She spread her legs and Gage was on her, kissing her neck, nipping at her sensitive flesh, grinding against her clit. “If you lived in Charleston, your sweet little pussy would be mine every night.”
“Every night? I think I’d die from exhaustion.” She panted, slipping her hands under his shirt, raking her hands over his back, memorizing the way his skin felt under her fingertips.
“Every. Night.” He kissed his way down the flat of her stomach. Abby sucked a breath through her teeth as Gage slid off her panties and planted kisses along the inside of her thighs, working his way up to her sex. Dark lashes fanned against his face as he looked up at her. “Unless you wouldn’t want this. In that case, maybe I should just stop now.”
He moved to sit back up and she dug her fingers into his shoulders and pushed him back down. “No, no. I think I may have changed my mind.” Every night. Yup. She could definitely go for this every goddamn night of the week without even blinking an eye.
“I don’t mind doing some more persuading.” His tongue teased around the edge of her pussy, and her hips bucked beneath his touch. When his tongue finally met her clit, a groan ripped from her mouth, her insides melting quicker than ice in the California sun.
His scruff dragged along her skin. “Damn, Abby, I don’t think anyone is as sexy as you when you’re turned on.” He sucked her clit into his mouth, and her hips levitated off the couch.
Before she knew it, Gage was rummaging through his pants for a condom, and within seconds was back on top of her. He thrust into her while working his thumb over her nipples.
As he sucked her sensitive nipple in his mouth, she knocked her head back and groaned.
“I keep thinking every time I’m with you is going to be the time when I’ve had enough—that I’ve had my fill—but it’s the exact opposite. I need you, Abby.”
Her whole damn body tingled in response to his words. Holy wow. Did people in real life actually say this stuff? Apparently, because it came out of Gage’s mouth.
Their bodies connected on the deepest of levels. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his flexed shoulders, sweat slicking their bodies. Just as Abby’s body coasted toward another climax, Gage grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders.
Holy hell. He pounded deeper, harder, unrelenting. “I’m going to miss these legs wrapped around me.”
“Is that the only thing you’ll miss?” she mused. His fingers kneaded her ass, and a groan spilled from her mouth. Dammit, she’d miss her legs wrapped around any bit of his body. Her thighs shook and a warmth washed over her as he drove even deeper into her.
“I could make a goddamn list of everything I’ll miss. Your lips on me, those little sounds that come from your mouth when I make you squirm, how you come off all uptight, but you’re a damn dirty girl. It drives me insane knowing some other guy will get to see this side of you.” He thrust into her, pinning her hands above her head. “You may be leaving tomorrow, but you’re sure as hell mine tonight.”
And with that, she fell apart, shattered into a million tiny pieces, with Gage finding his release on the tail end of hers. How could someone be so in tune to her, know exactly what buttons to press?
They lay there in a tangled heap of limbs, uncaught breaths, and a sense that they really got each other on a deeper level.
This guy was good. It made her wonder why he was single, because with that sweet but definitely outdated chivalrous attitude, chiseled jaw, that broad chest, and that…underneath his jeans, he wasn’t someone you just let go. He was keeper material, and Abby was lucky enough to have two nights, even if she had to admit she’d wished for a few more. A lot more.
She stopped that thought process and focused on the television, because, really? Abby? In a relationship? Um, yeah, no. She couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive. Fostering feelings for another human being? Not a chance in hell. Her coworkers would probably keel over from shock that she’d spent the weekend having fun.
Fun time was almost over, though. She didn’t have time for it—not with the months of cutthroat competition for that raise ahead of her. These two days had been a fluke, maybe an act of God to restore her faith in men. The real world would slap her in the face once her borrowed Jimmy Choos stepped onto the gangway at LAX. She’d have emails to catch up on, prop makers to call, her boss to appease. So, if she was smart, which her degree from Stanford indicated, then she’d better shove those thoughts into the depths of her mind and just enjoy the ride. Metaphorically and physically.
…
Gage shifted on the couch to face Abby. The cool Hollywood exterior had long since faded, and he was getting a glimpse of someone who seemed real and vulnerable—at least as vulnerable as Abby would ever appear.
“Do you think you’ll always stay on the West Coast?” Why the hell was he asking this? Of course she’d stay there—that was where her job was. He didn’t even want to consider why that question had popped into his head, because that would mean admitting this two-night stand was about to ruin him.
Her eyes focused sharply on his, no longer glassed over. “Yeah. It’s where all the production studios are. Can’t really move away from that.”
He nodded, ignoring the sinking sensation in his gut. What the hell was getting into him? Maybe it was all the champagne and sugary food. “Fair enough.”
“Are you going to be a damsel-in-distress-saving South Carolina man forever?”
“Planning on it. It’s where my family is. That’s number one to me, even if I’m a crappy son and uncle at the moment.” Emily’s gap-toothed, smiling face entered his mind. All those bills for her new school. His mom and Jill. Could he ever leave them? Even pondering it for a second gutted his insides. No, he could never do that. Not with a clear conscience.
“If they’re as loving as you say they are, then I think you’d have to do a lot more than travel for work for them to think you’re crappy.”
He didn’t want to tell her that it broke his fucking heart to see his little niece cry every time he left, because she wouldn’t see him for a few weeks. Or the fact that it was getting harder with his mama pushing girls on him. It was getting old, and if he were honest with himself, he was in need of a change. What the change was, he didn’t quite know, but after the past two nights with Abby, he sure as hell couldn’t settle down with a sweet as sugar southern belle. They’d scoff at him in the bedroom, shut him out if he tried anything that he’d just done with Abby. They definitely wouldn’t even think about fucking in a hotel stairwell.
They continued watching the movie, and Gage wrapped his arm around Abby. What a fucking alternative dimension, being in one of the most glamorous penthouses in the nation with the hottest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. When he finally did have time to get his shit together, would he find a woman like her? There had to be more out there, right? Or maybe Abby was an anomaly. He needed to stop getting so far in his head. It would only get him into trouble—mainly by getting a certain organ involved, and he definitely did not need that right now.
She slid her hand over his chest and asked, “What’s got you so quiet?”
“Just enjoying the movie.” He decided to bypass the question, since the last thing he wanted was to drag her into this weird spiral of emotion that had hit him as fast and fiercely as the blizzard outside. He got off the couch and eyed the closest plausible distraction. “Want some cocoa? I thought I saw some in the kitchen.”
She glanced up at him, those clear blue eyes searching his, and it looked like she might press the matter, but then decided not to. “Sure.” A smile twitched at the corners of her lips. They were doing this weird dance of emotions. Only a few more hours left together, and he could tell reality was sinking in for her, too. The reality was it fucking sucked.
That was it. He was done pouting like a damn teenager. Two nights was more than he deserved with this bombshell, and he was lucky to get to know her. Very intimately. A few minutes later, he came back brandishing clear crystal mugs filled to the brim w
ith hot chocolate. He’d even found a package of marshmallows in the cupboard and loaded the tops until he could no longer see the liquid beneath.
No more than five minutes had passed, and she’d already brought out her laptop, her nails clicking away at the keys as she typed out an email. And he thought he was a workaholic.
Gage sat down beside her, propping his feet on the tufted ottoman, gripping both mugs in his hands.
“You sure know how to make a mean mug of cocoa,” she said as Gage handed her the cup. “I’ll make sure to send the medical bills your way once I become a diabetic.”
“Have to enjoy the finer things in life once in a while.”
“So you keep saying.” She took a sip of cocoa and gave a contented groan. “I think I’ve enjoyed myself quite a bit these past couple days. More than I deserve.” She frowned and took another sip of her drink.
He raised a brow. “You deserve that all the time.” He wanted to add that she’d find it someday with some other man, but the thought made him want to dropkick a guy who wasn’t even in the picture yet. Why the hell was he getting his balls in a twist? She was a two-night stand—that was it. She needed someone who could devote time to her, which he didn’t have.
“I wish I could dedicate all my time to the bedroom.” She smiled up at him through hooded eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m too busy for that. Plus, I should really be researching for my next set.”
He stopped her hand as she reached for her laptop. “Let it go. For tonight. You deserve some time off.” With that, he pushed off the couch and pulled her to her feet, leading her to the panoramic view of the city blanketed in snow. “Take a few minutes, look at the skyscrapers. Loosen up a little, like you did in the stairwell. And in the bathtub. And the bedroom,” he growled.
She shook her head and laughed. “You are horrible for my productivity, you know that? I’d be MC Hammer broke if you were on the West Coast.”
“Mmm, but you’d be a happy broke.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think I’d be too happy if I was living on the streets. I tend to like things like running water, food, and electricity.”
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