Page 16 of Gage

The prospect looked toward Gage.

“Rear gate,” Gage told him. “And don't ask Havoc questions before he eats.”

“Or after,” Havoc said.

It was the kind of exchange I had begun to understand here. Irritation standing in for concern, orders stripped to the words needed to keep a man alive. Nobody announced they were closing ranks. They shifted chairs away from the windows, counted magazines and made sure Smoke ate while he worked because everyone agreed he suffered from hanger otherwise.

“My room,” I said.

Gage followed me down the corridor. My temporary room was still sparse, although the air vent had at least stopped rattling sometime that morning. Gage had found the loose screw after I mentioned the noise once. He had fixed it and never said a word.

He shut the door. “Go on.”

I lowered the bottle. “When Javier grabbed me, you looked like you wanted to kill him.”

“I did.”

“That part doesn’t scare me.” I watched his face. “I needed to know what happens when it’s me telling you no.”

Gage pushed away from the door and came closer. “I back the fuck off. Doesn’t mean I like it. Doesn’t mean I stop wanting you. It means I hear you. But Elena, you saying no is very different to that asshole out there who wanted to take you. I’m not apologizing for wanting to rearrange his face.”

There was nothing soft about the answer, which was exactly why I believed it. He wanted me with the same brutal certainty he did everything else, but he’d just told me where he would stop.

“I’ve never doubted you had my back, Gage, but I’m also aware of what and who you are. But you know what else? You make me laugh when I should be terrified. You make me laugh when you somehow are able to annoy Smoke with six words or less.” I put my hand on his chest. “I want you, Gage. Not because my father would hate it. Because it’s you.”

His hand closed around the back of my neck. “Good. Because I’m already in deep.”

I kissed him. His mouth took mine hard enough to end the conversation, and his other hand settled low on my back as he pulled me against him. There was no hesitation this time. I wanted the force he’d kept banked behind that control, and the first rough sweep of his tongue told me I was going to get it.

His cut landed over the chair. Shirts and jeans followed without the slow inventory of the first time. Gage watched me undress for him, then drew me onto the bed with him.

He kissed the fading mark on my arm before his mouth moved lower. I threaded my fingers into his hair and pulled until he looked up.

“Don't go careful on me now.”

That was all he needed. He turned me with one hard pull at my hip, and the mattress springs complained beneath us.

We lay on our sides, my back against his chest and one of his thighs between mine. His mouth moved over my shoulder while his palm spread across my stomach. The position held me along the full length of him, his cock heavy against my ass and his breath warming the damp place his tongue left on my skin.

I reached behind me and guided him lower. He caught my leg behind the knee, opening me across his thigh, and pressed the head of his cock against me. I pushed back before he could ask. The first slow drive filled me until my fingers caught in the sheet.

Gage stopped with his body fitted tight to mine. “Good?”

All I could manage was a breathless moan in reply. He withdrew and pushed deep again. I set the first few strokes with my hips, then his hand gripped my thigh and the rhythm changed. His restraint came apart without becoming careless. Each thrust drove me forward against the mattress, and his arm held me close enough that I felt every hard breath leave him.

“You've thought about this,” I said.

“Since the gate.” His teeth scraped my shoulder. “Thought about you at my place too. No fucking cartel. No brothers outside the door. Just you walking in and finding me.”

The words reached somewhere the physical pleasure hadn't. I turned my face toward him and caught his mouth at an awkward angle, kissing him while he fucked me from behind.

“Keep giving me reasons,” I whispered.

“Plan to.”

I slid my hand between my thighs. Gage tightened his hold, adjusted his angle when my fingers began moving over my clit and gave me the rough pace I needed. Pleasure pulled tighter with each stroke, but the sounds against my neck told me he was closer.

His hand covered mine for one stroke, feeling what I did to myself. Then he caught my wrist and brought my wet fingers to his mouth. The sight of his lips closing around them sent a hard pulse through me. He released me with a scrape of teeth and put my hand back between my legs.