by Stacy Gail
“Daniels.” Sage’s voice came through the door, and it was like a slice of sun stabbing through a cloudbank. “Open up.”
She was at the door so fast it wouldn’t have surprised her if she’d flown there. “Sage.”
“Hey.” The moment the door was open, he dropped some sort of package he had just inside the door and gathered her close. “Talk to me, babe. You okay?”
“I am now.” Which was true. The moment he touched her, the chaotic storm inside her stilled as if by magic. “I’m just really glad to see you. I thought you were someone else.”
“Your dad,” he guessed, then nodded when she looked at him in surprise. “I passed him in the parking lot. Considering the sour, I-just-ate-shit look on his face, I figured something just went down with you.”
“You could say that.”
“That prick.” He closed the door behind him with a kick of his foot, as he seemed incapable of letting her go. “What’d he want?”
“Nothing that I could give him. Parents shouldn’t want to constantly take from their kids, should they?” she demanded suddenly, lifting her head, and to her surprise she discovered her eyes were filled with hot tears. “Family shouldn’t be something you’re supposed to dread.”
“You know my background, so I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to knowing what a parent should and shouldn’t do.” His hands rubbed over her back, and it was so soothing she sighed again and closed her eyes. “One thing I do know is that if someone’s important to you, you care about their happiness more than your own. You want to see them smile. You want to know they’re living their best life, so you do whatever it takes to make that happen. You become the answer to whatever problems they have, and you never let someone else’s shit wash up on their shores. You make their world perfect, because when they’re happy, you’re happy.”
“That sounds beautiful.” A sad little smile curled a corner of her mouth, and she opened her eyes to look up at him. “I’ve never had a world like that, even as a kid.”
“Join the club.”
“But it sounds wonderful. I’d love to live in a world like that. If I ever have kids—and that’s a big if—I would want for them to feel like that. That they were more important than me. That they were the center of the universe. I just don’t know if I could ever create a world like that for someone else.”
“If you’re a selfish, self-centered asshole like your dad, that’s a world that’s always going to be out of reach,” he added with a careless lift of his shoulder. “But I’m not worried about you. You’re nothing like that asshole.”
“I’m his daughter, with his DNA. Maybe I am just a selfish asshole who thinks only about myself.”
“And maybe you’re just feeling like shit because that’s how he makes you feel.”
That didn’t help her anxiety one bit. “I’m just saying you don’t know me well enough—”
“I do. I know the real you, and I can prove it.” Giving her one last squeeze, he let her go to retrieve the package he’d dropped just inside the door. “Come with me.”
Without waiting for her to respond, he caught her hand in his and moved into the living room, not stopping until they were by the sun-filled windows. “This is for you.”
She took the flattish, rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. “What’s this?”
“A pogo stick. Open it, already.”
“Smartass.” But she smiled as she said it, and without further ado she ripped the brown paper off. A soft gasp escaped her when she looked down at the framed caricature portrait Sage had done of her, now protected under glass. The silver frame was deceptively simple, as was the matting, highlighting the lovely portrait he’d made of her surrounded by happy children. “I thought you said you didn’t give a shit about frames.”
“Yeah, well, normally I don’t. But the subject of this particular work is special, so it deserves special treatment.”
“That’s how you make me feel.” There was a lump in her throat, and this time when her eyes swam with warm wetness, it was out of sheer happiness. “You make me feel so special, Sage. Thank you.”
“It’s just a caricature, and someday I’m going to take the time to do a portrait of you that’ll be worthy of hanging in the fucking Louvre,” he said, looking over her shoulder at the picture she held. “But the feeling of that scene, and the moment it captures, tells me exactly who you are. You gave those kids everything that you are, and they loved it. So did you. You loved giving them joy when you gave them your time and attention. You think your old man would ever do that? Would he have even considered doing this sort of thing? I’m sure that shit like this—sharing his time and talent with others without benefitting himself—has never even crossed his mind. That’s how he is. But,” he added, touching the frame, “like I told you the other night, this caricature I drew of you is how you are. So if you’re worried that you’re somehow going to magically morph into your pops if and when you ever have kids, don’t. The person you are is beautiful. Popping out a kid or two won’t change that.”
“Sage.” The tears swimming in her eyes leaked out as she looked up at him, and what she saw there made her breath catch. Sunlight slanted in through the gap of the window sheers, catching the reddish-brown highlights in his dark hair and filling his pale eyes with light. It was as if he were glowing, bringing in all the warmth of the sun to chase away her internal storm clouds. In that moment, she knew without any doubt that she would never find another man more perfect for her, even if she looked the world over.
That was what it was to find the one man who fit her. Her heart, her soul. He fit her completely and without flaw.
Because he was the man she was coming to…
To love.
“You’re going to have to help me figure out where I’m going to hang this.” Without taking her eyes off him—mainly because she couldn’t look at anything else—she leaned the framed portrait against the loveseat before moving into his arms. “But not right now. You’re busy right now.”
“Oh, yeah?” He positioned her so that it was her turn in the slant of light beaming in through the sheers. “What am I doing right now?”
“You can’t guess?”
“I’m not guessing. I’m doing you, and that’s an absolute fact.” A large hand plowed through her short hair to cradle the back of her head, even as he bent to her mouth and kissed her deeply. She melted into it, letting the light he brought into her world burn away the last vestiges of darkness and turmoil her father had stirred inside her.
And as the last of that poison drained from her, she knew suddenly what her art project needed to be.
Thank you, Sage, my sweet man.
“I want you naked.” The crop cable-knit sweater she wore was quickly tugged over her head, followed by her bra and the loosening of the simple wraparound skirt she wore. “Clothes on this breathtaking body of yours is a fucking sin in my book. Stop putting clothes on, woman.”
Delight and feminine pride bloomed in every cell. “Unfortunately, it gets kind of cold without clothes, especially in winter.”
“I’ll keep you warm.” Absently ripping off his long-sleeved shirt with the House Of Payne logo on it, he tossed it aside. Then he took her hands to guide them to the fastening of his jeans, freeing him up to deal with her tights and panties. “Watch and see how warm I can make you.”
“I’m watching.” Feverishly she went after the zipper of his jeans, her pulse skyrocketing at the hard bulge straining just beneath it. How amazing it was, to be wanted so much by this man. “To create warmth, we need some friction.”
“Oh, I know all about friction. I will give you so much fucking friction you'll think you're melting in all the best ways.” Pulling the tights down her legs, he sat on the edge of the couch and pulled her between his knees. “You ready for the friction, baby?”
“I'm ready, willing and able to give you a little friction of my own.” Kicking off the last of her clothing, she knelt between his knees
to tug on his jeans, and she didn’t stop until she had worked them down his legs, along with his black boxer briefs. “You bring the warmth of the sun into my world just when the storm my father brought was threatening to drown me. I think it's only fair that I give back to you some of that warmth.”
“You give me that just by being you.” His hips arched a little, thrusting his already-hard cock more insistently upward. “But that doesn't mean I don't want that sweet mouth of yours sucking me off.”
A wild thrill of excitement shot through her. “Good,” she managed, stroking her hands up and down his hair-roughened thighs before her fingers curled around his impressive, throbbing hardness. “For a second I thought you were going to object.”
A low grunt of pleasure rumbled from him as she began to stroke him. “Do I look crazy? Get that sweet, wet mouth of yours on my cock and do every nasty damn thing that comes to your mind.”
“Yay,” she whispered, so turned on by him and his words it was a wonder she wasn't gasping for air.
With her intimate folds beginning to throb in sync with the pulse she could feel pounding in his thickly veined, rock-hard cock, she licked her lips in dizzy anticipation.
A groan deep in his chest told her he had seen the motion. “Fucking cocktease,” he all but purred. “God, I love that.”
I think I’m falling in love with you.
The words were so alive inside her, she could feel them on her tongue.
That was nice, but blurting it out was one hell of a leap when normally she was all about baby steps. Besides, now wasn’t the time for talking. And what she wanted on her tongue wasn’t some reckless declaration, but something else entirely.
With great deliberation, she lowered her head to the darkened crown of his dick and circled her tongue around it. The muscles in his thighs contracted and she had a sense of his hands curling into fists, but she didn't raise her head to see.
She was much too enthralled with the pleasure he was allowing her to give him.
Drunk on her own sense of power, she threw herself wholeheartedly into her task, running her tongue up one side of his hard shaft and down the other. Then she devoted her attention to the super-sensitive ridge beneath that purpling crown. His jagged intake of breath was her reward, before one of his hands sliced its way through her hair and compelled her closer.
“Take my cock, baby.” His voice was rough. Excited. The mere sound of it made her innermost folds throb and ache with wet heat. “Get your mouth around me and take my cock nice and deep.”
“I'm already there.” She took just enough time to speak before following those words with actions. Rising up on her knees, she bent over his lap and closed her lips over his hardness completely. The salty taste of him bloomed on her tongue. Delighted, she toyed with that nerve-laden ridge until he growled, and his hips thrust demandingly into her.
Lovely.
She sucked in, knowing that action would bring already hot blood even more to the surface and make everything that much more sensitive. His thrusting deepened while the throbbing between her legs intensified, making her moan. That lustful sound vibrated against his cock, and before she knew it, he hauled her up onto his lap while he fumbled for his wallet.
“Not gonna raw-dog you until we get tested and you’re on the pill,” he grated, securing a condom and rolling it in place. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his hands shaking, but that smile slipped away under a moan of pleasure when he raised her up, her legs straddling him, and slammed her down onto his cock. “But I want nothing between us when I’m inside you. I want to feel you, baby. I need to feel you.” His words trailed off into a moan as he moved her, helping her to ride his shaft with an ever-increasing rhythm that built into a fever pitch of madness.
“Yes.” The thought of his unprotected cock delving deep into her made her insane. Coupled with how he surged into her again and again, filling her emptiness to perfection, the achy tension inside her ballooned so quickly it made her gasp. Then it exploded just as he again pulled her down onto his cock, impaling her so beautifully she came hard and fast.
His groan of completion made her bliss that much deeper, kicking off one last surge of pleasure. She chased after it by urgently rolling her hips, her head flinging back as the pleasure swept her away, and she didn’t stop until she’d captured every last ounce of ecstasy he so effortlessly gave her.
“This might be my favorite way to have sex with you.” Her breath still hadn’t evened out as she dragged her eyes open, only to find Sage watching her as if she were the only woman in the universe. “Face to face, your eyes on mine. I love looking at you when you’re inside me.”
“I’ll get you mirrors so you can see me from every damn position imaginable. And I,” he added with the beginnings of a wicked grin, “can imagine one helluva lot. Want me to prove it?”
Again she glanced at the clock above the mantel. “We have to be at work in a few hours. How many positions were you thinking of?”
“All of them,” he said so wickedly she couldn’t help but laugh.
Chapter Thirteen
“I never expected you to actually invite over a dragon,” The rich aromas of chili powder, cumin and garlic perfumed the air as Mads pulled a casserole dish filled with her world-famous beer-marinated chicken enchiladas from the oven. The enchilada sauce and Mexican queso sprinkled on top had melded together into a picture of perfection, but she had no time to admire the main course.
Dinner hadn’t even been served yet, and already there was drama.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Looking both chagrinned and defiant, Serena tried staying out of her way while at the same time dogging her every step in the townhome’s galley-style kitchen. “But you did say I could bring a plus-one, so I’m not totally out of line here.”
“Didn’t you say this dragon owns your hospital and is basically richer than God?” Setting the dish of piping hot enchiladas on a trivet, Mads ripped open a bag of thin tortilla chips and arranged the chips around a bowl of homemade guacamole. Next up, Margaritaville.
“I assume he’s rolling in it, but I don’t actually know that for a fact.” Clearly on the defensive, Serena crossed her arms in front of her. “So what if he’s Mr. Moneybags?”
“So, this isn’t Alinea. Wait, is Alinea still the swankiest restaurant in Chicago? I can’t afford to even step foot in there, so I wouldn’t know.”
“Mads, he knows this is just a casual dinner at my sister’s house, the same sister who draws happy pictures for sick kids. He knows you’re not a master chef.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Walking in with his jacket still on, Sage held up a bottle of tequila in one hand and a six-pack of cerveza longnecks in the other. “Liquor store run for extra booze is a done deal, Skittish. Damn, does it smell good in here. We ready to eat, or what?”
“Let’s see.” Trying not to think how homey this was with Sage helping her host this little get-together, Mads took quick stock of the situation. Drunk-chicken enchiladas, grilled corn salad with diced avocados and a zesty lime vinaigrette, borracho beans, tortilla chips with guacamole, and the tres leches sheet cake waiting in the fridge. “All I need to do is mix up some margaritas and we’re ready to roll. Oh, and Rena’s plus-one needs to show up.”
“Yeah?” Stashing the beer in the fridge, Sage grabbed one of the cold ones Mads already had waiting, then shrugged out of his jacket. “You didn’t invite your father, did you? Because that would suck.”
“Oh, no. Serena invited the current dragon in her life, because apparently my sister likes extra doses of cray-cray during dinner parties.” Grinning, Mads went to Sage to give him a welcoming kiss. As the days had gone by and they were now less than a week away from House Of Payne’s art auction deadline, life had been something of a whirlwind, complete with full work schedules and working into the wee hours on her art piece for the auction. But it was now finished and drying out on its easel, with plenty of time to get it varnished and prepped for framing. Th
at was enough reason to be in a celebratory mood, but that wasn’t why she was ready to get her party mood on.
Over the past week, every moment she’d spent with Sage had convinced her that not only was she getting serious about this gruff man, but that she’d never been this happy in her life.
Happiness. That was what Sage had brought into her solitary world. Come to find out, she didn’t need anything else to feel complete.
For the moment, her life was perfect.
Except for the oncoming dragon.
That had her glancing at her smartwatch. “Here’s hoping he shows up in the next few minutes, because this stuff tastes best when it’s fresh. And since he’s Mr. Swanky Boss, I would hate to serve him anything but the most perfect food I can muster.”
“Mr. Swanky Boss?” Sage raised his brows. “What’s this?”
“I don’t know how swanky he is.” Serena also glanced at her watch, then bit her lip. Clearly she had the same thought Mads had—that her dragon was running late. “And he’s not my boss. Not officially, anyway. He just owns the building I work in.”
“You work in a huge-ass hospital that takes up an entire city block.” Sage paused in reaching for the chips and guacamole. “He owns a huge-ass hospital?”
“That’s the word on the hospital grapevine, but I haven’t asked him directly. It seemed rude. And also, I don’t care.”
“I don’t even get how this invite came to be.” Trying not to be amused by her sister’s exasperation, Mads grabbed up a beer of her own and handed it to Sage to open. “Last I heard, you absolutely loathed this guy.”
“Basically I still do,” came the grim reply. “And for what it’s worth, I had no plans of inviting him anywhere, much less to a relaxed, homecooked meal at my sister’s house. I thought I’d never see him again after his son was discharged, and I was more than fine with that. But suddenly there he was yesterday, on my floor and in my face, telling me how I sucked at my job.”