Gage: A Love Under the Lights Novel

by Paige, Rochelle

  “Neither do I, Gage. Take me now.”

  That was all the encouragement I needed before I thrust in all the way and buried my cock in her pussy. She was tight as fuck, so I gave her a minute or two to adjust to the feel of me insider her. Then I began to slowly drive in and out, only picking up the pace when her hips lifted to meet my thrusts. “That’s right, beautiful. Take what you want from my cock. I want to feel that tight pussy of yours squeeze the fuck out of me as you come.”

  “Gage! Oh, yes! Right there,” she cried out as I circled my hips.

  Wrapping her hair around my fist, I tilted her head back to nibble my way down her neck as I continued to pound in and out of her. Her legs were wrapped around my waist, and her nails were digging into my back hard enough that they were going to leave marks behind. Filled with the need to leave my own brand on her, I sucked the skin right over her pulse into my mouth. Instead of complaining, she arched her head further back to give me better access. That simple act of submission pushed me to the edge, but I was determined to bring her with me. Tilting her hips back, I deepened my thrusts and made sure to ram against her clit with each drive inside. Her walls clamped around my cock as she flew apart, and I finally let myself go.

  “Morgan! Oh, fuck!” I bellowed as I filled her with my come until it spilled out of her pussy.

  “Holy crap,” she panted, collapsing against the pillows.

  I dropped down on the mattress next to her and pulled her head onto my chest, running my fingers through her dark hair. I’d just had the biggest orgasm of my life, but my dick was still hard—just as it always seemed to be when Morgan was near.

  “How many times do you think we can do that in the next twenty-two hours?” she asked about five minutes later, after we’d both gotten our breath back.

  Dragging her over my body, I settled Morgan on top of my hard-on, and answered, “How about we find out?”

  Fifteen

  Morgan

  Late the following morning, I was curled up in Gage’s heavenly bed, watching him sleep. For the record, I’d been right; the mattress was as plush as it looked. I’d still have been fast asleep myself, but Gage’s body heat had been roasting me. I woke up to kick the covers off so that I could cool down and then forgot to close my eyes again because I got busy studying the man who had rocked my world four times the night before. Frankly, I hadn’t even known that was possible.

  Even sleep deprived and deliciously achy in places that were not ordinarily sore, I wore a smile that was likely visible from space. I’d been with other men in my life, but nothing could ever have prepared me for what taking that step with Gage would be like. I felt more connected to him in every way. Mentally, emotionally, and physically, the entire experience was new to me. I wasn’t complaining about that, either.

  I realized he was awake when he reached out with his hand, moving it until he found me. He placed his palm on my leg and ran it up until it came to rest at my hip. There was the hint of a smile on his face when he said, “You’re awake.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “What time is it?”

  I darted a glance at the clock that sat on the nightstand. “Almost eleven.”

  He frowned as he opened his eyes. “Shit. I didn’t mean to sleep for that long.”

  “I think we both earned some shut-eye,” I pointed out.

  “We did, didn’t we?” he laughed.

  Boy, had we. After we’d made love the first and second times, we’d taken a break and gone to the kitchen. There, he’d heated a delicious chicken casserole that the chef the studio hired for him had dropped off earlier in the day. He’d quenched his thirst with water while I’d gone right for the grape Kool-Aid.

  We’d gone from the kitchen back to his bedroom where we got back into bed and talked for almost three hours. That was another thing that made me feel so much closer to him. When he asked me questions, it wasn’t just to make conversation. He both asked and listened to my answers because he was interested, and I felt the same way about him.

  The soft touches and kisses we’d shared while we spoke became more prolonged, and then they turned heated. It wasn’t long before we were making love again. We’d showered after, and even though we were both wholly wrung out, neither of us wanted to go to sleep, so we’d cuddled in his bed while we binge watched a bunch of episodes of Designated Survivor. Once again, being that close eventually led to more sex. I’d fallen asleep at his side sometime after dawn, unable to keep my eyes open for another moment.

  “We did,” I agreed, smiling at him softly. “And if we’re going to do it again anytime soon, I need to be revived with a shower. After that, I’ll need some coffee and some toast.”

  He raised a brow. “Toast is going to fill you up and bring you back?”

  I shook my head. “No, but it will stop my stomach from eating itself long enough for you to take me to Chick-fil-A for breakfast.”

  “It’s eleven, which means it’s lunchtime. But if you want breakfast food, I could make you eggs, toast, and bacon here,” he offered.

  “It’ll be breakfast for us,” I laughed. “And while I adore you for offering to make eggs, I’m craving a spicy deluxe sandwich, a Greek yogurt parfait, and some of their lemonade. It’s the best.”

  That earned me a sexy grin that made me question for a good three or four seconds whether food was even necessary. Luckily, I realized that a growling stomach during sex would throw the mood off. Probably.

  “I think you might have the best palate of any person—man or woman—I’ve ever known. You had me at spicy deluxe, but I’m going to ask Shawn to pick it up for us because I want to keep you all to myself while you’re here.”

  “That’s fine by me. As long as he doesn’t forget the parfait and lemonade,” I said with a saucy grin.

  * * *

  Our incredible day together was quickly winding down. It was just after eight, and at midnight, I'd be on another plane bound for Los Angeles. We'd spent the day cuddling, kissing, and watching more episodes of Designated Survivor. Now we were in the giant garden bathtub in the master bathroom. My back was to Gage's front, his arms were around me, and beneath the frothy vanilla-scented bubbles, his hands were traveling up and down my skin.

  “I wish time would stop moving so damn fast,” Gage sighed from behind me.

  I made a soft sound of agreement.

  “We need to work on coordinating our schedules from here on out,” he added.

  I caught my breath. “Really?” I asked, my voice damn close to being a squeak. What he'd said meant he saw us together for the long-term. Although he seemed serious about me, definitively saying that we needed to align our schedules so we wouldn't be apart was a big step. One I was ready to take, but still, I couldn't help how giddy the way his words made me feel inside.

  He hugged me to him. “I hope you aren't surprised by that,” he said, squeezing me tight. “I've been clear about my intentions where you're concerned, beautiful. Have you not been paying attention?”

  I grinned huge. “I didn't want to get ahead of myself,” I admitted.

  “I'm forty-two years old, and I lost my virginity when I was seventeen. In those twenty-five years, I've never once gone without a condom, no matter what. If I was ready to fuck and one wasn't around, I stopped. I spent last night rooted inside you, condom free. There was plenty of opportunity to go to a drugstore today to pick up protection, but I didn’t, and unless you want me to, I don't intend to, either. What we are is real.”

  “I know that,” I said softly.

  “Good, because people in committed relationships do what they have to do to make time together. And just so we're clear, you're going to be getting a fuckload of offers now, so it'll be up to me to work around your schedule as much as possible. Don't ever turn anything you want down because of me. We'll figure it out, no matter what.”

  He said so many sweet things to me, but that right there was one of the very best. I'd found that men had issues with the fact that I coul
d be gone for months at a time on location. It wasn't enjoyable being berated and railed at about something I'd worked hard for. I realized my choice was to clip my own wings and ignore my dreams in favor of having a relationship. That had been an easy decision. I'd stopped dating.

  "Okay," I answered, smiling.

  "Good," he said, hugging me gently.

  I loved how with Gage, things just kept getting better.

  * * *

  I stood in the center of the bathroom, my toes curling into the plush khaki-colored area rug beneath me as Gage dried me off with a fluffy white towel, working his way from my ankles on up. There was reverence in both his expression and the way he touched me, and I was determined to commit every second of it to memory.

  “Lift your arms,” he commanded, his voice gravelly.

  I licked my lips as I nodded and did just that, holding my position as he dried my sides and beneath my arms. When he finished with that, he tapped at my shoulders so I’d put them back down before he moved his attention to my breasts. My already stiff nipples throbbed as he ran the towel over them. I made a moue of complaint when he moved up to my neck and finished drying me off.

  Since I’d washed and dried my hair earlier in the day, I’d piled it on top of my head and secured it with a clip before we’d gotten into the tub. Tossing the towel to the side, Gage reached behind my head and undid the clip, letting my hair hang free. Threading his fingers through my hair, he smiled down at me before he abruptly lifted me in his arms and headed for the bedroom.

  When we got there, he set me down in the center of the bed before he got onto the mattress and covered my body with his. Then he waited for me to spread my legs before he settled between my thighs. Our eyes connected as he ever so slowly leaned in for a kiss. Only when our lips touched did I close my eyes.

  He kissed me gently but deeply, the soft, silken slide of his tongue against mine both a sensual caress and a promise of things to come. For countless minutes, it was just that, the two of us kissing as if time didn’t exist, and we’d never find ourselves separated for even a moment. As much as I wished that were the reality, right then it wasn’t.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and gripped his waist with my thighs while he kissed me breathless. When he lifted his head, I raised mine to follow in an attempt to get him back. His eyes flashed as he shook his head. “Let me kiss something else first,” he rasped.

  My clit throbbed with desire as I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Lie back and enjoy,” he instructed.

  I loved the way he watched me as I let go of his shoulders and laid back, his gaze dropping to my breasts. Bending his head, he licked my left nipple and then my right, repeating the back and forth movement several times before he started working his way down with a trail of hot, wet kisses. His shoulders held my legs open when he reached his destination; the warmth of his breath fluttering over my sex made me whimper.

  When his tongue touched me, I gasped. He made a growling sound as he licked me from the bottom of my pussy to the top. I rocked my hips as he tongued me—a wiggle here, a long, slow lick there. Then he dipped his tongue inside and worked it in and out of my opening a dozen times in quick succession. My hands threaded into his hair, holding on as he went back to my clit and worked me faster.

  “Please,” I gasped, desperate to come. “Gage.”

  Lifting his head, he grinned up at me devilishly. “Your pussy loves my tongue, doesn’t it, beautiful?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “What about my fingers?” he asked. As he spoke, he set his middle and index finger against my clit and began rubbing little circles on it.

  “Yes,” I answered, my voice a breathy whisper that probably would’ve made Marilyn Monroe proud.

  He looked from my face back down to my pussy. I watched as he moved his fingers from my clit to my opening. I moaned when he slid them inside and started moving them back and forth, then let out a little cry when he lowered his head and began licking my clit again.

  “Gage, Gage,” I chanted, my mouth open while I gasped for air as he took me closer and closer to the edge.

  When it hit, I arched my back and let out a silent scream. He kept on going, his tongue hitting every sensitive spot I had with a precision that left me weak.

  He kept it up until he’d wrung every last bit of pleasure from me for that round. Once he knew I was on the other side of it, he moved quickly, rolling me over and helping me up on my knees. I barely had time to think, much less come down from my first orgasm, before he thrust his cock into me, and I was off to chase my second.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his hips slamming into me with each punishing thrust.

  I fisted the comforter and cried out as his cock worked in and out, the thick, full feeling of him inside me so decadent I could barely breathe. We were nothing but sensation, and all of it was amazing. He fucked me with a fierce intensity that left me gasping for air and desperate to come far too soon. When he reached around and started to rub my clit with his finger, I saw stars.

  “Baby,” I panted, rocking backward as I met him thrust for thrust.

  “Beautiful,” he groaned, burying his head against my neck. “After you come all over my cock, I’m going to fill you so goddamn full of my come.”

  “Yes,” I gasped, “yes.”

  “Love the way you take my dick, Morgan.”

  The moment he bit down on the back of my neck and sucked, I came again. That time, I screamed out loud, the mattress muffling the sound as his hips continued ramming into mine. I felt his orgasm a second before he stopped sucking at my neck and let out a loud, “Fuck!”

  It felt like it went on forever, his cock jerking his hot release inside me. My pussy clenched around him, my body trembling as we got lost in the pleasure together. When it was over, he rolled to his side and held me in his arms as we caught our breath.

  * * *

  I’d had just enough time to put my hair back up into a messy bun, throw on jeans and a T-shirt, and repack my bag before the limo arrived to take us to the airport. We used the time in the car to make out like two high school kids, but far too soon, we were on the tarmac, a few feet away from the jet that would fly me back to LA.

  “Fuck, I hate letting you go,” he said, his voice husky as he kissed me. Again.

  We’d been saying our goodbyes for more than fifteen minutes, which meant time was truly running out.

  Lifting his head, he cupped my face in his hands. “Call me as soon as you land.”

  I nodded dazedly as I licked my lips. “I will.”

  “Think about me every day,” he ordered.

  I smiled softly. “I was going to do that anyway.”

  “I’ll be home soon. Jesus, I’ve never hated this fucking job more.”

  “Me, either,” I admitted. “We’ll make it work, though.”

  “Yes,” he agreed firmly, “we will.”

  We kissed again, short and desperate, before the alarm on his phone went off. So far, we’d added five minutes three times—there couldn’t be a fourth.

  Gage watched as I picked up my purse, slung it over my arm, and opened the door.

  “I worked you hard over the course of the last twenty-four plus hours. Make sure to drink the Kool-Aid they have for you on the plane—you need to rehydrate,” he teased.

  “I will.”

  I held his gaze until I stood and could see him no more, but I knew he was still watching me after the driver closed the door and I headed for the plane. I also knew I was smiling like a dork as I hurried up the stairs. When I got to the top, I turned, smiled, and blew a kiss toward the limo.

  I missed him before the flight was up in the air.

  Sixteen

  Gage

  I was in the middle of shooting the tenth take of a grueling scene when Shawn rushed onto set, plopped down onto my chair, and flashed me the 9-1-1 signal we’d worked out years ago. He knew how important it was not to interrupt filming, so it was something
he only ever did in the case of an emergency.

  My heart raced in my chest as my head filled with worst-case scenarios. Only my years of experience prevented me from letting my worry fuck with my concentration, and I finally nailed the scene. As soon as the director called cut, I rushed over to Shawn’s side.

  “What is it? What's wrong?” I asked.

  “It's Morgan.” I must have looked as frantic as I felt because he rushed to add in a whisper-soft voice, “She's okay, but the gossip rags have figured out that she has a new man in her life. They’re jumping all over the story, and it’s everywhere already.”

  I hurried off set and stalked into my dressing room. As soon as the door shut behind us, Shawn handed me his phone with one of the articles pulled up. I quickly skimmed the story, my jaw clenching hard enough to make a low popping sound as they speculated about who she might’ve been visiting while in Georgia. They were tossing around the names of top athletes and successful businessmen who lived near Atlanta, some of whom were already in established relationships. I hadn’t made the list, and it pissed me the fuck off to see people linking Morgan’s name with other guys . . . especially when it was the mark I’d left on her neck that had sparked the conversation in the first place.

  “You probably shouldn’t have left a huge hickey where someone might see it,” Shawn pointed out when he leaned over my shoulder and saw the picture I was staring at. Someone had gotten a shot of her as she walked up the steps to the plane. It looked like it’d been taken from quite a distance, but since her hair had been up, the hickey on the back of her neck was clearly visible. I scrolled past it and found another image of her, this time she was blowing a kiss at the limo I’d been sitting in. The windows were tinted black, though, so nobody knew I was the one back there.

  “Everyone’s wondering who the mystery man in her life is. Especially since she’s been in the limelight more lately because of her award nominations and Golden Globe win. It also doesn’t help that the assumption for years has been that she and Jasper Conrad were a couple.”