She just blinked.
He tried not to smile, but there was something supremely satisfying about managing to shut down that fascinating brain of hers.
He took advantage of the moment and captured her mouth in another long, deep kiss.
“I’d like you to stay with me tonight.” He whispered the words against her lips. “Tell me you want to stay.”
Megan had never wanted anything more.
“I want to stay,” she told Gage, and was rewarded with another kiss.
Her eyes drifted shut as he deepened the kiss. His lips trailed down her throat, his teeth scraping over tender skin. She shivered, surprised and aroused, and surprised that she was aroused.
She’d been so preoccupied by his mouth she hadn’t realized he’d unfastened the buttons down the front of her blouse until he pushed the fabric over her shoulders, down her arms, trapping them in the sleeves, holding her immobile while that wickedly talented mouth kissed the slope of one breast, then the other, then nuzzled the hollow between them.
It was torture—incredibly delicious torture.
Clearly the man was a master at bedroom games, as the rumors alleged, because she didn’t even know how the rest of her clothes ended up on the floor. But suddenly she was naked and he was easing her back down onto the bed, still kissing and touching her and generally making every hormone in her body sit up and beg.
Her breasts—small though they were—had received some attention before. Some clumsy gropes and sweaty-palmed pinches. Gage was neither clumsy nor sweaty. Nor did he seem disappointed by her size. His thumbs slowly circled around the outer edge of her nipples, moving slowly closer to the rigid peaks that were aching for his touch.
“Please.” It was a sigh as much as a plea.
“Tell me what you want, Megan.”
She shook her head, because she didn’t know. She only knew that she wanted more, and yet, she didn’t want to stop the exquisite pleasure of what he was doing right now.
But Gage didn’t need her to give him step-by-step directions. It was readily apparent to her that he knew his way around her body better than she did. Of course, a man of his experience would, but she wasn’t going to worry about that now. In fact, she wasn’t going to worry about anything—
She sucked in a breath as his thumbs brushed over her nipples again.
“Do you like that?”
She could only nod.
Then he gently rolled her nipples between his fingers, and she gasped at the exquisite, piercing pleasure that shot through her system.
She hadn’t realized that she’d closed her eyes until they flew open again at the shock of his mouth on her breast.
It was just the tip of his tongue, actually, but—oh, my—her eyes crossed as it swirled around the peak. Instinctively, she arched toward him, urging him to take more. And then his lips closed around the hard pebble of her nipple and he sucked hard.
She cried out in shocked pleasure, her hips rocking against him. She could feel the press of his erection against the jeans he still wore, and she wondered if he was as ready as she was, why he wasn’t stripping the last of his clothes away to get on with it.
He groaned as he grabbed on to her hips, stilling their movements. “Are you trying to end this before we’ve begun?”
She felt her cheeks flush. “I thought…I mean…don’t you want to…do it?”
His hands slid up her torso, skimming gently, reassuring. “I very definitely want to,” he said, and touched his lips to hers in a brief but potent kiss. “But there are other things I want to do first.” He paused, letting her consider that. “If you don’t have any objection.”
Other things? What kind of other things?
She wasn’t sure she could take any more, but she would never know if she didn’t take this chance.
“Oh, uh, no,” she finally replied. “No objection.”
“Good,” he said, then shifted again to give the same exquisite attention to her other breast.
And while his mouth was busy at her breast, his hands were exploring elsewhere. Trailing down her ribs, over her hips, her legs, then moving upward again. He stroked the tender skin on the inside of her thighs now, his fingertips dancing softly over the skin in a teasing caress that had her muscles quivering.
Then he touched her, just the lightest brush of his fingertips against the moist nub at the apex of her legs, and she shattered. She simply flew apart like shards of a broken glass—an experience that was so sharp and intense it was almost painful.
When she finally stopped trembling, she noticed that he was holding her close.
“Oh, Meg.” He nibbled gently on her earlobe. “You are…incredible.”
She blinked, uncomprehending. “But I didn’t do anything. It was you—”
He silenced her with a kiss, deep and hot and hungry, and she felt the sharp edge of desire rise up in her again.
“You said no objections, right?”
She nodded, though she didn’t understand why he was asking now. Hadn’t he already shown her everything—
She gasped again when his head disappeared between her legs.
Apparently he hadn’t shown her everything.
His tongue stroked.
His lips nibbled.
She couldn’t stand it…it was too much…so many layers of sensation…so much more than she’d ever dreamed.
Even as her body shuddered with the aftershocks of another orgasm, she felt as if something was missing, somehow she still wanted.
He let go of her only long enough to finally strip away his clothes and take care of protection. And then he lifted her hips and eased into her. Slowly. Gently. And, oh, so perfectly.
“Are you okay?”
She was surprised—and touched—that after everything he’d already done to ensure her pleasure, he would even think to ask. She could see the strain on his face, felt it in the arms that held him rigid over top of her as he waited for her response.
She slid her hands up his arms, felt his muscles quiver. “I’m okay,” she assured him, and drew his head down to hers.
Gage sank into the kiss, and into her.
She might not have been a virgin, but Megan was undoubtedly the most innocent woman he’d ever taken to his bed.
Innocent yet eager, and that was an unexpectedly arousing combination, and one that had nerves and guilt gnawing at him. But the nerves and guilt were no match for a desire that had been building for too long, and his body was already straining with the effort of holding itself in check.
This was all she wanted from him, and he was determined to make the experience a memorable one for her. But then she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside her. She smiled in response to his groan, a little shyly, as if she was only beginning to realize the effect she had on him. Heaven help him if she ever truly discovered her power.
Then she started to move, instinctively thrusting her hips in a rhythm as old as time itself, and though he desperately tried to grasp for the last slippery threads of control, they slipped right through his fingers. When she rose up again, he plunged into her. Deeper, harder, faster. He was like a wild animal finally set free from its cage, desperately, mindlessly racing to the finish.
If he’d been able to think, he might have worried that she was shocked, even appalled, by his behavior. But she met him thrust for thrust and spurred him on with her deep moans and throaty murmurs. Then she cried out and the tight clench of her muscles drained everything he had left, and he emptied himself into her.
Megan had known that having sex with Gage would be an experience.
That was, after all, one of her primary reasons for going along with his engagement plan. She wasn’t looking for love—she just wanted to know what all the hype was about, because in her limited experience sex had never been more than a brief and somewhat pleasant interlude. She’d experienced desire and anticipation, and disappointment, though she’d never been certain if the lack had been in herself or her par
tner, or if—as Bill Penske had claimed—her expectations were simply too high.
Gage Richmond changed all of her perceptions.
He’d shown her that sex was about the journey as much as the destination, and he’d shown her how to enjoy every step along the way.
Her lips curved as she thought about how very much she had enjoyed every step along the way. “Thank you.”
He propped himself up on an elbow. “What exactly are you thanking me for?”
“For keeping your end of the bargain.”
“I’m nothing if not a man of my word,” he assured her solemnly.
“And I appreciate the experience. I think I have a slightly better understanding of everything now.”
“You think so?”
She nodded.
“Maybe we should go over things again.” He stroked a hand down her torso, his fingertips dancing lightly, teasingly, over her skin. “Just to be sure.”
She shivered, goose bumps rising on her flesh even as her blood heated in her veins. She wouldn’t have thought it was possible for desire to stir again, but apparently she still had some things to learn. “Well, if you think that’s necessary.”
He opened another condom, rolled it into place. “I think—” his lips brushed against hers, once, twice, as he levered his body over hers again, eased into her “—it’s very definitely necessary.”
Chapter Twelve
It was unusual for Gage to wake up and not be alone in his bed. Though he had a reputation—not entirely undeserved—for having been with a lot of women, he wasn’t in the habit of actually spending the night with them. The darkest hours were usually his alone, and that he’d let Megan stay—had, in fact, not even considered taking her home—implied a greater degree of intimacy than he was accustomed to, that he wasn’t sure he was ready for.
So when he woke up Saturday morning and discovered that her back was snuggled against his front, he experienced the slightest hint of panic. When he realized his arm was around her, the panic escalated.
He needed coffee to clear his head and space so that he could think, and he wouldn’t get either if he gave in to the urge to slip his hand up to cover her small, firm breast or nuzzle the tender skin on her throat that he’d learned was ultra-sensitive to the rasp of his shadowed cheek.
With more haste than care, he extricated himself from the covers and slipped out of the bed.
On a diagram of the human body, Megan could accurately identify every muscle. She just wasn’t certain she had ever actually used them all before.
When she woke up the morning after the night she’d spent in Gage’s bed, she knew she had, because every single muscle ached. But it wasn’t at all an unpleasant feeling, more of a revelation. She’d never realized the human body was capable of giving so much…taking so much…feeling so much.
She knew the night had meant a lot more to her than it had to Gage, and she accepted that. When this engagement was over, it was unlikely he would even think about her, never mind the night they’d spent together.
But she would remember it forever.
Because Gage had shown her so much more than the mechanics of pleasurable sex—although he’d done that, too, and in spectacular fashion. He’d shown her what it meant to really be connected to someone else. And for that period of time where their bodies were linked together, when she could feel the beat of his heart in sync with her own, she felt as if they fit.
Of course it was an illusion, she knew that. The connection was purely physical and probably only in her own mind, but still, the one night they’d spent together had exceeded all of her expectations, and she would always be grateful to him for that.
Just as Gage didn’t usually sleep with his lovers, he didn’t cook cozy breakfasts for them, either. And yet Megan was there, seated across from him at the table, eating bacon he’d fried and eggs he’d scrambled, drinking coffee he’d brewed. And looking as if she belonged.
He shook his head, as if doing so could rid it of that incongruous thought.
She was the type of woman who was all about strings and he had no intention of getting tangled up. Of course, the ring on her finger suggested otherwise, but they both knew the truth. It was, as she’d described, a prop, nothing more. And they didn’t have a relationship, they had an agreement. An agreement with a specific and clearly defined purpose.
He nibbled on a piece of bacon and decided that he was overreacting. After all, one breakfast didn’t make a relationship. Even one breakfast after a night of spectacular sex didn’t make a relationship. So he would simply enjoy her company along with his eggs and, when the meal was done, he’d take her home, clearly reestablishing the boundaries.
It was a good plan. Except that after breakfast, she insisted on helping with the cleanup and he found the image of her up to her wrists in soapy water strangely arousing, and the next thing he knew they were back upstairs and naked in his bed.
Megan was late for Sunday brunch.
In fact, she almost forgot about it entirely until Gage suggested that they should go somewhere to eat because he was out of bread and milk. He didn’t seem to mind that she’d asked for a ride to the café, though he did grumble about not being invited to eat with them. But Sunday brunch was a sacred and exclusive ritual for the three women, and Megan had no intention of letting that change, even if she had been tempted to skip the event altogether.
But the truth was, the whole weekend with Gage had been incredible, and incredibly intense, and she was grateful for the excuse to take a step back, to give herself space to breathe. Because she was very much afraid that if she didn’t take that step now, it might be too late.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Ashley said when Megan slid into the empty chair beside her.
Megan felt her cheeks burning. “Sorry.” Then, to the waiter who immediately came over to fill her cup with coffee, she said, “Thank you.”
Paige waved a hand dismissively. “Please don’t apologize. If I’d spent the morning having hot, sweaty sex with a man like Gage Richmond, I definitely wouldn’t be here now.”
“How do you know I spent the morning having hot, sweaty sex?”
“The tousled hair and fresh beard burn on your neck are dead giveaways,” Paige informed her. “Not to mention the thoroughly satisfied gleam in your eyes.”
“Jeez, is it really that obvious?”
“Only to those of us who aren’t getting any.”
While Ashley smiled at Paige’s comment, she couldn’t quite hide the worry in her eyes. “I’m glad things are going well,” she said to her sister. “Just…be careful.”
“Always,” Megan promised her.
Ashley shook her head. “I’m not talking about birth control.”
“If you’re worried that I’m going to fall in love, don’t be,” Megan said. “We have an agreement.”
“Love isn’t something that can be scheduled or planned or contracted out of,” Paige interjected. “Believe me, I’ve written a lot of prenups and settlement agreements and the human heart isn’t bound by any precedents or statutes.”
“Okay then, let’s just say that I have no illusions about our relationship, and no expectations beyond the terms of our agreement.”
“But he is going to the reunion with you?”
Megan nodded. “He didn’t even hesitate when I asked. Apparently the ring on my finger is an implied escort for any occasion.”
Her cousin sighed. “I think I’m going to skip it.”
“If I have to go, you have to go,” Megan said.
“We’re all going,” Ashley said firmly.
“But I haven’t found anyone to go with me and I refuse to be the only one of us without a date.”
“I’ll be your date,” Ashley said.
“Won’t Trevor have something to say about that?”
“If he does, we won’t hear it all the way from South Carolina.”
Megan frowned at that. “Trevor’s not going to the reunion
?”
Ashley shook her head.
“Why not?”
“A bunch of guys from his office are going to Myrtle Beach for a charity golf tournament that weekend.”
“And he couldn’t miss it?” Paige asked incredulously.
“He didn’t want to miss it.”
“But he’ll miss your reunion.”
“It’s my reunion,” Ashley said, a little defensively.
“And he’s your fiancé,” Paige pointed out.
When Ashley looked away, Megan knew her sister was more bothered by her fiancé’s defection than she wanted to let on.
In light of Ashley’s recent comments about Trevor withdrawing, she worried that his choice of golf over the reunion was just further proof of the fact. And she couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty that she was so happy while her sister obviously was not.
The main foyer of the school was set up as the primary check-in point, and from there they were directed to specific classrooms, depending on graduation year.
“I thought you were a couple years younger than your sister,” Gage said to Megan as they followed Ashley and Paige to Room 131.
“Three years,” she told him.
“But you graduated the same year?”
“I was accelerated through school,” she admitted.
“Then you’re probably even younger than I guessed.”
“What was your guess?”
“Oh, no. I’m not getting caught in that trap.”
She laughed. “Okay, I’ll tell you. I’m twenty-five.”
“When is your birthday?”
“February second.”
“I should have known that. As your fiancé, I mean.”
“We weren’t engaged in February.”
“My birthday’s in October,” he told her.
“And our engagement will almost be over by then,” she said, reminding herself of the fact as they entered what had once been her tenth-grade math class.
The Engagement Project Page 13