She wanted to smile, but every muscle, even the ones in her cheeks, refused to cooperate. “Oh, yes. Definitely.” She sank forward with absolutely no grace, the top of her head fitting perfectly beneath his chin as he slid out of her.
He wrapped his arms around her back snugly and brushed his chin across her hair, several strands catching in his whiskers. He pulled in a huge breath and released it in a slow exhale.
My sentiments exactly. She’d never felt more relaxed. More sated. She snuggled further into him, curling her arms between their chests and enjoying the way his heart still thundered against her fisted hands.
So, this is snuggling.
She froze. Snuggling? Shit. She didn’t snuggle. Couples snuggled.
She jerked upright, nearly clocking herself on his chin in the process. “Um, I need ice cream.” She couldn’t even look at him. “Do you need ice cream?”
“Fuck, yeah, I need ice cream.” He captured a strand of her chaotic hair and twirled it around his finger. Her gaze followed the movement raptly. “It’s the only reason I came over here,” he continued, his voice still deep and husky. “Took you long enough to ask.”
“Okay.” She slid from his lap, cursing herself that she did so reluctantly. “Coming right up.”
She padded away on bare feet, casting her clothes a glance as she passed them. She could put them back on now. But that meant he would probably follow suit, and she wanted to watch him eat ice cream completely starkers. She was shallow like that.
She blindly groped in the freezer until she encountered a frosty half-gallon of the good stuff. Grabbing two spoons, she headed back to the living room.
Her gaze was automatically drawn to him. Still naked. She released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. He’d done something with their thoroughly used condom since she’d been gone, but other than that, he was as gloriously spread-eagled and sated-looking as he had been.
She nudged the other gaming chair closer to his with her foot and sank down into it. The cold leather against her ass gave her a start. It was much less welcoming than his warm body had been.
She silently handed him a spoon and opened the ice cream. She dug out a huge bite and chomped down with a moan. Bliss.
“Freckles, this is peppermint ice cream.”
She grunted and dug up another spoonful.
“It’s July. They don’t even make this stuff outside of December.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “So, I stock up every December. What do you want from me?”
He gave her a lopsided grin that made her stomach do a funny flip. “Peppermint is an aphrodisiac for most women, you know.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Then why are you bitching?”
His grin widened. “Why, indeed.” He leaned forward and brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. Her eyes wide, she watched him return that thumb to his own lips, where he sucked, his gaze glued to hers.
Okay, he’d just made her come her brains out. Why did she want him again? She had the urge to press the ice cream container to her suddenly hot chest and neck. Her gaze skated away from his, unable to hold the intensity any longer. She caught sight of the time flashing from her cable box.
“Holy shit.” She straightened. “Is that really the time?”
She saw Gage turn his head in her peripheral vision. “Oh, wow. Yep.”
“I have to be at work in thirty minutes!” She launched to her feet. “We start my game today!” She couldn’t be late. She absolutely couldn’t. She scooped up her clothes with one hand.
Gage got to his feet, too, and reached for his jeans. Despite her rush, she found herself watching as he eased them on one leg at a time.
“Your game?” he asked, zipping up his fly.
“Yeah,” she said in a distant voice, her gaze locked on the way his abs flexed with his every movement. “Hero’s a girl. Who will not have animated tits and a penchant for sacrificing herself.”
“Seriously?” His arms dropped to his sides, and his abs stopped flexing, so she looked up at his face. “Cassidy, that’s great.” He said it sincerely. Soberly.
Next thing she knew, they were standing toe to toe. She stretched up and laid a topless kiss on him.
Man really must stop agreeing with me. He grabbed her in a bear hug, smashing her breasts to his naked chest while gripping a handful of her ass with one of his massive palms.
This was bad. She smelled like sex and needed a shower. If she hurried, she’d make it to work just in time. There was no more time for another fuck.
With a groan, Gage lowered her from her tiptoes. “I have to go to work, too,” he whispered with his lips brushing hers.
She wrinkled her nose. Well, that pulled her out of the mood. Which was good. Definitely good.
He tapped her wrinkled nose with his pointer finger. “Fuck, I never use the blue pills, but I might have to today.” He released her with a sigh. “Your fault, by the way.”
She tilted her head. “Viagra?”
“Don’t knock it. Most gigolos use it.” He winked. “We’re not machines, you know.”
He stepped back and reached for his shirt. She ogled him. Evidence to the contrary.
“Hell,” he said, shoving his arms through his T-shirt. “Maybe my next client won’t even want sex.” He pulled the shirt over his head, and she nearly gasped as his chest and abdomen rippled. “Happens frequently enough,” he finished, brushing his fingers through his slightly mussed hair, which then fell into perfect, unfair order.
She frowned. “Not want sex?” What the hell?
He shrugged. “Women like to think that someone who looks like me, like I don’t care about anything”—he gestured to himself—“they pretend I could care about them. Seventy percent of my job is companionship. Hands down.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”
An abrupt laugh burst from his lips. “Woman of my dreams, right here.”
A sudden, awkward silence descended on the space. She gripped her crumpled clothes with both hands.
“I mean—” Gage cleared his throat. “Fuck, you know what I mean. Or don’t mean.”
Cassidy nodded her head. “Sure.” She tried to shrug casually, but his simple words were freaking her out a little, and not just because they were against everything she wanted. There was the tiniest flare of warm fuzzies in the general vicinity of her ribs, which she found quite alarming. “Well, I’ve got to—” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder toward her bedroom.
“Yeah, me, too.” He shoved his fingers through his hair again. “Well, see ya later, Freckles.” He winced. “Or not. You know.” He waved his hand. “Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she echoed.
They stood there staring awkwardly at each other for two very long seconds, then Gage bent suddenly, shoved his feet into his boots, and stormed toward the door.
“Bye,” she said as he closed it behind him. As soon as it clicked closed, she raced to the kitchen, yanked open the junk drawer, and pulled out a notepad.
She muttered through tight lips as she scribbled frantically. “Viagra.” Scribble, scribble. “Clients who don’t want sex.” Scribble, scribble.
Two excellent new ideas for the game. She jotted down as many ideas as she could think of in the precious few seconds she had before she had to jump in the shower. She studiously ignored the way her stomach sloshed ominously as she straightened.
This was no big deal. The guy didn’t even game. Besides that, he said these things were common in the industry. Anyone could have told her these tidbits.
She’d been ordered to do this. It was her job—her career on the line if she didn’t. She glanced around the apartment she’d only recently begun to be able to afford. She didn’t want to lose any ground here.
She folded the sheet of paper, walked over to the table beside the front door, slipped it under her keys, and made her way to the bathroom and a much-needed shower.
Thirty minutes later, the clickity cla
ck of the keyboard echoed in Cassidy’s small cubicle. The words were a-flying. Something about this game just spoke to her. Felt real.
Maybe because you’re taking things that have actually happened to a real man and fictionalizing them? She winced as she pressed save.
The wince remained and deepened as she skimmed over the rough storyline she’d been typing.
“Fuck,” she muttered. It was good. Really good.
She closed her eyes. “And I can’t do it.”
This was wrong. If Gage knew about it, sure. But he didn’t. They’d just used each other for sex a couple times, but this was fucking Gage over in a way he had not yet consented to.
Her vision blurred, and she shoved the heels of both palms against her eyes. The lack of sleep was not a benefit in this whole process. “I need coffee.”
She also needed to stop talking to herself, or someone would surely hear her. She lowered her hands and blinked several times until her view of the screen cleared.
Right. Coffee first. Then she would come back and figure out how to undo all of this. Change the game into something that didn’t leech off Gage’s unwitting contributions but also intrigued her boss.
Luckily, her boss hadn’t seen anything yet, so this could be an easy fix.
With that optimistic thought, Cassidy shoved backward on her wheeling desk chair and popped to her feet. Coffee would solve everything.
Two minutes later, as she walked back across the office to her cubicle, there were—she squinted—three, no, four people huddled around her computer.
Shit.
She picked up speed, her scalding hot coffee splashing onto her hand. “Hey, guys,” she said, screeching to a halt right behind the wall of bodies surrounding her workspace. “What’s up?”
Now that she was closer, she could see the four bodies were Mr. Callahan, Chris, Greg, and David.
They all straightened slowly and turned to face her. All four of them looked completely flabbergasted. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Her fingers tightened around her coffee.
“Is this”—Mr. Callahan nodded his head toward her screen—“the new game you pitched?”
Oh, fuck. He hates it. I’m fired. Cassidy cleared her throat and prayed her voice wouldn’t wobble. “Actually, it’s just ideas at the moment, and I was going to make a lot of changes but . . . ” Ah, hell, there was not getting out of this. “Yes, it is.”
God, how long would her meager savings last? Long enough to get another job? In this industry after being fired? Panic started to well in her throat.
Mr. Callahan shook his head. “Don’t you change a thing!” He laughed. “This is brilliant!”
“Wait . . . ” Cassidy squinted her eyes. “What?”
“I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve made it both realistic and bigger-than-life hilarious.” Mr. Callahan smiled. “This gigolo idea is the best you’ve ever had.”
Next to him, David, Chris, and Greg nodded. The still-surprised look on their faces was less than complimentary.
“Oh,” Cassidy said. “Thank you. I’ve been . . . working hard.” Something ticked in her cheek, and despite having only one sip of the coffee, it sloshed in her stomach.
“I can tell,” Mr. Callahan said. “We’ll let you get back at it then. Keep up the good work.”
As they walked away, Cassidy stared at their backs and took a gigantic swallow of hot coffee. It burned all the way down, which was the least she deserved. She set the coffee down on her desk and flopped into her chair, rolling up to her computer.
Her head felt like it weighed a ton as she stared at the document on her screen. The document she had planned to rid of every trace of Gage’s influence just moments before.
When her vision started to blur again, she reached for her coffee, but the blur soon distinguished itself with a stinging. As though her tear ducts were fighting off wetness, which was absurd.
She didn’t cry. Hadn’t cried since her brother Jeremy’s suicide so many years ago. Everything was relative, and nothing since then had hurt that badly. She’d made sure it hadn’t, distancing herself from anyone and anything that had the slightest chance of mattering to that level.
Well, except for her brother’s wife, Victoria. There was no distancing herself from that woman. She was all the family Cassidy had left.
She sobered immediately, the sting in her eyes vanishing. That had been a much-needed reality check.
She sniffed and grabbed her cup of coffee, draining it in one go. This was still fixable. If she ever saw Gage again, which was a big if, she would approach him about this. He would, most likely, be on board. He didn’t strike her as someone who lived a life he regretted, and he’d been incredibly supportive of her game this morning. If he didn’t approve . . .
Well, she’d cross that bridge when she got to it. No need to borrow trouble.
She nodded to herself, tossed her coffee cup in the trash can, and got back to work.
Chapter Ten
Gage had a ridiculous bounce in his step as he walked away from the coffee shop where he’d met his only client of the day.
He’d been right: this client hadn’t wanted sex. They’d talked about her painful breakup for a couple of hours over lattes while he’d held her hand. She’d paid him quietly and given him a peck on the lips, then left feeling noticeably happier.
But that wasn’t why he was happy himself. No, his reason had everything to do with a small, freckled Gamer Girl.
Cassidy was a revelation.
Oh, not in any worrisome way, like he wanted a relationship or anything. He involuntarily shuddered as he walked toward his apartment building, the sun setting behind him. He’d be cold in his grave before he wanted a relationship.
Nope, Cassidy was a revelation in a different way. Who knew women came like that? Just as fucked up as him when it came to other people.
He had also forgotten how nice it was to have sex with the same person more than once. He didn’t take regular clients; the possibility of any sort of attachment on their part was enough of a deterrent for him to cut loose that lucrative source of income. Sex more than once with the same partner was something he hadn’t done since he’d been a teenager, and the experience had definitely been different then, before he knew better than to get his emotions involved.
That wouldn’t happen again, but being with Cassidy twice had been . . . nice.
He snorted as he keyed in the code to his building’s front door. Nice. A motorcycle ride near the Strip at night was nice. Fucking Cassidy was . . .
He smiled to himself. It was nasty. And fun. And satisfying. And . . . He shrugged as he unlocked his front door. Nice. There was no getting around it. That word applied perfectly.
The sun was down by the time Gage walked into his apartment, and his gaze was drawn to the picture window that faced Cassidy’s apartment. He expected it to be covered as it had been since he had caught her, thighs spread, in her gaming chair. And who could blame the girl.
But—he straightened—her blinds were open. Drawn aside even.
Keeping his lights off, like a perfect creeper, he strode to the window. There she was, wearing sweats and playing a game in her chair. He felt his cheeks stretch.
He needed to stop spying on her. He returned to the door and flipped on the lights. Turning around again, he started shrugging out of his jacket only to pause a second later.
She was standing at the window now, waving at him. For a moment, he had the absurd urge to look over his shoulder and then point at himself while mouthing Me? Thank God, he caught himself just in time. He pulled his jacket back onto his shoulders and returned her wave. She started gesturing again, but being all the way across the room, he couldn’t read her lips as they moved rapidly.
He held up a finger and moved back to the window. Now that he was closer, he could see she was pointing to the room behind her and mouthing something that looked like Want to come over?
He bit the insides of his cheek against the
immediate and involuntary grin her invitation elicited. He shrugged and then nodded, all I don’t know, I guess.
A quick thumbs up from her, and then she was back in her chair. Now that she wasn’t looking at him anymore, there was no fighting the grin. At least he’d played it cool when it’d counted.
He had the urge to rush over there, but before he did, he looked around his apartment, searching for God knew what. Should he take something? Was she hungry? She’d wanted pizza last night, and he’d been a disappointment on that front.
But only on that front. His smile turned cocky.
He pulled out his phone to order a pizza as he walked over, opting for the safety of plain cheese since he didn’t know what she’d like. An impending delivery would be a good excuse to delay sex for a few minutes, because there was actually something he wanted to ask her. Something that had just come to him that might benefit them both.
She let him in after the first knock. He was already talking as the door opened. “You know someone has let me into your building each time I’ve come over here?”
She shrugged as she walked back to the gaming chair. “Yeah, we always do that.”
He felt his muscles stiffen. “Your safety doesn’t mean more than that to you?”
Something in his voice must have caught her attention, because, though she’d picked up her controller again, she wasn’t pushing buttons. She stared up at him, her nose wrinkling slightly.
He felt his cheeks burning as her gaze turned piercing, as though he’d revealed much more than his simple—and apt, he might point out—question had actually revealed. “I mean,” he said quickly, “it’s no big deal. It’s just dishonest.”
Something flashed in Cassidy’s eyes. “And that’s something that matters to you?” She swallowed hard enough for him to see her delicate throat work. “Dishonesty?”
He snorted. “Nothing matters to me.” He resisted the urge to roll his shoulders. They felt unnaturally tight.
She raised an eyebrow and continued to stare at him. A furrowed line appeared in her brow, and for the first time since they’d met, he would describe her as conflicted. But over what?
Great, he’d been here less than a second and ruined any mood they might have had. “Look.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. It might bother me that other people’s carelessness could endanger your safety.” And now he was acting protective. Fucking outstanding. He made a rough sound in his throat. “Nope, forget I said that, too.” He closed his eyes briefly then opened them. “Can we just start over?”
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