“I mean, don’t rip them out or anything—”
“Damn. Ruin all my fun.”
He gave the ass cheek he was holding a little slap. “Oh, you’ll have fun. I promise.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, you’d better have fun, too.”
That damn nose wrinkling. He pressed a kiss to the crinkled bridge. “Already having it.”
Without another word, he grabbed her other ass cheek as well and hauled her up. She shrieked, but he didn’t give her any time to react. Making sure he had a secure hold first, he lowered himself back into the leather gaming chair and settled Cassidy over his thighs. The chair was so low to the ground, her knees nearly pressed into the carpet. Only his bent legs kept her from rug burn.
The heat from her pussy nearly branded the tip of his dick where it hovered a mere inch away from paradise. She blinked her eyes several times as she stared down at him, seemingly trying to puzzle out how she ended up straddling his lap in less than the span of two seconds.
He leaned back and looked up at her. With one hand, he kneaded her ass. With the other, he trailed fingertips up and down the delicate ridges of her spine. “So, any requests?”
She blinked again. “Requests?” Her voice was far away. Distracted. She squirmed a bit in his lap, no doubt trying to get closer to the erection straining her way.
“Yes.” He squeezed her ass again to keep her still. “Things you like.”
She frowned. “Things I like?”
His fingers paused in the middle of her back. “Cassidy, don’t your partners ask you what you like in bed?”
She was staring at his pierced nipples again, but she shook her head.
Okay, seriously, what was wrong with the men in her life? “Well, this one does ask.” He continued stroking her back. “So what do you like?”
She reached for him then, running the pad of her pointer finger over the barbell piercing his left nipple. “The normal stuff.”
He breathed a laugh. “Okay, cat lady defined her proclivities as normal, so I’m going to need more to go on.”
Her gaze snapped to his, and there was no mistaking the flare of anger in her green eyes. “Are you always this talkative?”
He paused. She didn’t know how to answer the question. It was more than obvious. And her little flare of temper wasn’t anger at him. It was anger that she didn’t know to demand what she needed from someone in this situation. He knew it as sure as he knew instinctively that the slight tremble in her legs signaled her arousal was beginning to slick down the insides of her thighs.
That her previous sexual partners had been selfish made his chest ache. With the hand that still kneaded her ass, he held her steady. His other hand, however, moved between her legs. He trailed a finger up the inside of her thigh. Yep, already dripping for me.
He knew women’s bodies better than he knew his own.
When he got to the apex of her thighs, he didn’t hesitate to part her lips with his thumb and middle finger so he could stroke the slit of her pussy with his pointer finger.
She gasped and rocked into his touch, her ass flexing in his hold. He did it again, and her hands flew to his shoulders, her blunt nails digging into his skin.
“Do you like that?” he asked softly.
She nodded her head, her eyes tightly closed.
“Then you say, ‘Fuck me with your fingers, Gage.’” Her eyes opened and her gaze fixed on him. That’s it, Freckles. Look at me. “And then I do it.” He stroked her slick flesh again. “Simple.”
Every one of Cassidy’s muscles he was in contact with stiffened, and her eyes narrowed.
Uh oh. Shit. He’d done something wrong.
Chapter Five
Was he . . . tutoring her?
Never mind that what he was doing with his fingers between her legs felt divine. Gage was clearly trying to teach her how to ask for what she wanted during sex.
Which means he’s not in the moment.
This was supposed to be a mutually beneficial encounter. She got to end her year-long celibacy without having to risk the demands of a relationship. He got to have sex he actually wanted to have. For fun.
“You’re in gigolo mode, aren’t you?” she asked softly, something within her wilting.
He laughed, but it was tight, and his gaze wavered away from hers. “What?”
If she could narrow her eyes more, she would. As it was, though, she was staring at him through the thick fringe of her lashes already, and nothing was worth losing her current view of naked-man-with-naughty-piercings buffet.
“You are!” she accused. She huffed out a breath. “Snap out of it! You’re over here giving me sex lessons, for fuck’s sake. This is supposed to be fun!”
His lips pursed, momentarily distracting her. “It is fun,” he said. He stroked her sex again, and her angry huffs of breath hitched, but she could clearly see the gears still working behind his rich, chocolate eyes.
Not fun enough.
Okay, so she might not be good at the whole demanding-what-she-wanted-in-bed thing. That did not mean she wasn’t good at sex. And he was about to get a firsthand demonstration of that.
She gathered all her abilities for complex thought close, because as Gage continued to stroke her sex despite their current disagreement, thinking was definitely hard.
If I were a gigolo, what is the one thing I’d really want that my clients probably wouldn’t do for me?
Well, that was an easy answer. And, damn it, she wasn’t excited about it—she hated the taste of latex—but she was going to do it. And with a good attitude.
With Herculean effort, she eased away from his fingers.
“Hey.” He clutched at her ass with both hands. “I’m sorry. I won’t talk anymore, I promise.”
She paused. His words were . . . frantic. The look in his eyes was slightly wild.
Hmm. Maybe he is having more fun than I gave him credit for. Because one thing was for certain: Gage wanted this to go on. Badly.
She leaned forward and brushed her lips to his. “Not going anywhere,” she murmured. She leaned back again with an easy smile, and then she dismounted Gage’s lap, though he relinquished his hold on her reluctantly.
She walked toward the nest of his clothes.
“You sure you’re not going anywhere?” his rough voice asked from behind her. “Because you seem to be walking away.”
“Just enjoy the view, gorgeous.”
He scoffed. “Like I wasn’t already.”
She plucked the box of condoms out of his pants, and as she tore into it, she turned around. She almost tripped over her feet.
Gage’s hand was wrapped around his impressive dick and was stroking up and down slowly while his hooded gaze clapped on the apex of her thighs. The overhead light glinted off his piercing with every pass of his hand.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked, her voice a little breathy.
“Enjoying that view. I can follow directions.”
She pressed her knees together, and Gage’s gaze flicked down and then back up to her sex again in the span of one blink. He made no announcements, but she had picked up on the fact that Gage saw every signal her body gave. She breathed, and he took a mental note. It was unnerving and exhilarating at the same time.
And, since he seemed to be thoroughly entertained at present, she indulged in a little noticing of her own.
How does a man look bigger without his clothes on? She seriously wanted to know. Was that a phenomenon all big men shared? Or was it specific to Gage?
There was nothing in her own life she could pull from to help answer the question. She slept with convenient partners. That meant co-workers usually or guys who ran in her circle: computer nerds. Hard to get large sitting in a basement fiddling with code every waking hour.
Gage had to spend hours a day in a gym. She knew from the anatomy research required for the animations she worked on that a guy didn’t get this kind of muscle definition easily. Many of the models they’d used for s
ketches at work had always complained about both the diet and the gym regimen they had to follow.
God, whatever the cost, Gage’s body was the best payoff she’d ever seen. The gaming chair that swallowed her body whenever she played looked like a miniature beneath his sprawled frame.
He’s so gorgeous. With those facial features that were almost too lush and pretty for a man and all that hair, he’d been hot with his clothes on. But now? Massive slabs of muscle met her eyes wherever she looked, although he wasn’t bulky; he was lean. Cut. With a low enough body fat percentage that each time he moved, his muscles flickered noticeably beneath his tanned skin. Tanned skin that had absolutely no tan lines. Lord, if he laid out somewhere to get that color, she wanted the location, STAT.
As she watched him stroke himself off, his biceps and pecs flexing and his eyes still glued to her body, she didn’t know if she wanted to jump him or grab her sketchpad.
Can’t I do both?
Maybe later. Right now, she definitely wanted to have something bigger than a charcoal pencil in her hand.
She pulled the foil packets from the box far enough to tear one off and then dropped the box of condoms back in the clothes on the floor.
His gaze finally darted to something that was not her body. He frowned at the condom in her hand. His fist stilled mid-stroke. “Already?”
Disappointed? She’d never been with someone who wasn’t eager to see the foreplay part of things end. She kissed the last thread of her complaints goodbye. It didn’t matter how nasty latex tasted. This guy was getting a blowie.
“Yes and no.” She walked back to him, and his biceps flexed again, indicating he’d tightened his grip on himself as she moved closer. She knelt between his massive, spread thighs.
He reached out and brushed some hair from her forehead—a surprisingly tender move in her opinion. “Welcome back,” he murmured.
“Thanks.” And then she brushed his hand away from his erection. He put up no fight. Whether that was because he wanted to see what she was going to do next or he’d learned his lesson earlier about coaching her, she didn’t know, but it got her closer to her goal, so she wasn’t going to question it. She’d planned on simply rolling the condom down his length and taking him into her mouth, but now that she was close up to his extremely aroused dick, her plans changed slightly.
She leaned to the left until she was resting against the inside of his thigh. His warmth seeped through her skin and, contrarily, sent goose bumps chasing over her entire body. The soft scratch of his leg hair made her want to nuzzle his leg with her cheek, but before she could do so, his fingers skimmed along her hairline to her ear, where he sifted them through the hair trailing down to her neck.
For some reason, the affection made her throat tight. Damn, it’s definitely been too long. Pulling herself back together, she draped her arm over his leg, getting more comfortable. The move had the added advantage of bringing her breast into direct contact with his inner thigh, so she wiggled a bit, making sure to brush her sensitive skin against his.
He sucked in a breath, and his fingers stilled in her hair. Success. While he was distracted, she dove in, her free hand traveling to the crown of his erection. She traced a circle around the ridge with her pointer finger, and the muscles in his abdomen bunched in her peripheral vision. She smoothed over one of the cool, steel balls of his piercing. He made an odd noise in his throat, so she did it again. This time, his fingers tightened in her hair, giving a slight, delicious pull to her scalp. “Did this hurt?” she asked, moving her finger to the other steel ball.
He snorted. “Like the fires of hell.”
His tone was so grave, she paused. Her gaze traveled to his, and she tilted her head. “Then, why do it? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but . . .why?”
He shrugged with one shoulder, and his gaze slid away from hers. “For work.”
Ah. Well, that might put a damper on the sexiness factor. For some asinine reason, she didn’t like that this piercing was for a horde of faceless women.
She straightened, reluctantly withdrawing her arm from around his leg. Sitting back on her heels, she ripped open the condom.
His fingers tightened in her hair again. If he weren’t careful, she was really going to start liking that. “There’s really no hurry, Cassidy.”
“Trust me. I’m not hurrying.” She placed the condom on the crown of his dick. “Ready?”
Something like disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Ready.”
Silly man. It was a snug fit, but she rolled the condom down, taking extra care with his piercing. By the time she was done, her breathing was a little rough. So was his for that matter. With one hand, she tried to wipe off as much of the spermicide as possible. With her other hand, she trailed the pad of her finger down the heavy sack beneath his erection.
He sucked in a breath. “Shit,” he murmured, the beginning glimmer of excitement tinging his voice.
Ah, catching on, are we?
The delicate skin between his legs began to pucker beneath her finger as she stroked. The throbbing between her legs grew insistent.
She leaned forward, her breasts meeting her own hand where she fondled his sack. He groaned softly, and she looked up at his face. His gaze was glued on her breasts. She flicked a quick glance down again.
Hot damn. Pressed up against his body this way, she was actually sporting some cleavage. His testicles were nestled right between her breasts, and his sheathed dick rose up proudly toward her chin.
They looked pretty good together.
Correction: we look fucking hot together.
“Not a bad view, huh?” he asked in a husky voice.
She shook her head. “Not at all.” She looked up at his face again, winked, and then took his dick in hand. As she leaned in, the muscles of his abdomen dipped. She was smiling as she took her first lick—enjoying herself so much that the harsh taste of the condom barely made her wrinkle her nose.
Gage grunted, and next Cassidy knew, his hands were off her, clutching his thighs instead. She flicked a quick glance at each and saw that the tips of his fingers were blanched white. Keeping her gaze trained on his left hand, she licked again and felt a little thrill when his fingers flexed.
It seems she’d found just the thing to get him into the game. She drew back just enough to ask, “Like it?”
He didn’t say anything, instead breathing a laugh that was its own clear answer.
She pressed a soft kiss to his tip. “Then you say, ‘Fuck me with your mouth, Cassidy.’”
With a groan, Gage wove both hands into her hair. “Fuck me with your mouth, Freckles.” His fingers tightened in her hair, nearly making her groan as well. “Please.”
Freckles? She couldn’t decide if she was okay with that or not, so she saved it to ponder for later. The husky, urgent edge to his voice sent butterflies through her stomach. With a soft sound in the back of her throat, she opened her lips over the crown of his erection and sucked him into her mouth.
“Shit.” The curse was so soft she barely heard it, but it was definitely there. Made a gigolo curse. She could live off that for a while.
The smooth balls of his piercing stroked the roof of her mouth: a preview of what it’d do inside of her that made her nearly leap into his lap immediately. But his massive thighs trembled just the slightest bit against Cassidy’s shoulders; she couldn’t cut this short.
She sucked him deeper until he prodded the back of her throat and swirled her tongue at the edges of the piercing. He palmed the back of her head with one hand and made a harsh noise from deep in his chest.
Though she could feel the power behind the hand on her head, he didn’t use any force—no shoving her down, like the first guy she’d given head to. No thrusting. Makes me want to reward him. She pulled back until she nearly released him from her mouth, and then she sucked him back in again, swallowing when he was pressed to the back of her throat.
He bit off another curse, and this time, he did move. “
Okay, we’re done with that.” The hand on the back of her head moved to beneath her chin, and he pulled her off him.
She relinquished her prize with an audible pop. “What? I’m not done.”
He hauled her up with two giant hands to her rib cage, settling her over his thighs. “Trust me, Cassidy. You’re done, or we both are.”
Beneath her bottom, the tremble in his thighs was intense—nothing like the little shimmy it had been when she’d first started licking at his cock. “Wait.” She tilted her head. “You were going to nut? Just from that?”
He breathed that same, tight laugh and then, in an obvious bid to distract her, brushed his fingers over her clit again.
It nearly worked, but she wasn’t going to let this slide. “I thought you were a gigolo.”
He sighed. “Supposed to be, yeah.”
Was that pressure in her chest a giggle? From sex lessons to a near premature ejaculation in the span of five minutes. “I’ve got some major mojo, huh?”
“Okay, Freckles, yes, you’ve got major mojo. Can we please fuck now?”
She sniffed, her chest still tight from suppressed laughter. “Well, not if you’re going to be a dick about it.”
His lips parted. “A dick—” He raised an eyebrow, and that was all the warning she got.
Next she knew, she was sprawled on the floor, a massive and gorgeous sex worker kneeling between her spread thighs. And he was tickling her. Tickling her.
“What the fuck?” she squealed as his fingers tripped over her ribs and up to her armpits.
“Nope,” Gage said, tickling up her neck. “Can’t talk now. Too busy being a dick about it.”
“Gage—” She cut off with a shriek as he found the extremely sensitive spot at the end of her ribcage. “Gage! Jesus, how are you so good at this?” No matter how she squirmed, his fingers managed to find new methods of torture.
“Gigolo, remember?”
As if I could forget. “And that has to do with tickling, how?”
He grinned wickedly. “You really want to know?” His fingers skimmed down her thighs to the backs of her knees.
Stiff Competition Page 4