Hard and Fast: Italian Stallions, Book 2, page 15
“Here. You can have a drink while we cook. Maybe that’ll make you less grumpy about me forcing you to stand in the kitchen.”
He clinked his glass against hers, took a sip, then set it down so he could finish prepping their meal. He’d bought a pre-made salad and a box of frozen garlic bread.
“You seem very at ease in the kitchen,” she mused. “With all your money, I would have expected you to have a full-time housekeeper and personal chef.”
Gage shook his head as he salted the water. “Nope. My bachelor pad is just that. A home for one. I don’t always have a lot of time to cook during the week, but on the weekends, I typically spend a few hours doing meal prep, stuff like that. I like being in the kitchen.”
She crinkled her nose, letting him know what she thought of that. He laughed and bopped the look away by tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. Then he grabbed his cell from his back pants pocket, opening the phone. Flipping the screen for a selfie, he turned so that both he and Penny were in the shot. He faked a horrified look of her wielding the spoon, and she laughed as he snapped it.
“Smart-ass,” she muttered, still grinning. “So who taught you to cook?”
Gage didn’t respond right away as he bent down and opened the drawer beneath the oven. He pulled out a cookie sheet for the bread and put it in the preheated oven.
“You probably grew up with a full kitchen staff or something, am I right?” she pressed on. Gage was very closemouthed when it came to his family. Every time she broached the subject, he clammed up.
“We had a cook growing up who prepared the meals for our family. Dad was one of those old-school types, who liked to conduct business over a meal, so it wasn’t unusual for him to invite potential clients or investors to dinner at our house.”
“That sounds…really boring.”
Gage didn’t laugh as she expected. Instead, he looked at her like she understood something no one else did. “It was. But Dad had trained his trick ponies well. My brothers and I knew we were to sit quietly, eat politely, speak only when spoken to. My mom was there to look pretty and entertain the client’s wife or girlfriend or—sometimes—mistress with small talk.”
Penny waited for a moment, wondering if he’d say more. She didn’t miss the vein of resentment in his tone. When he fell silent again, she decided to lead by example. Maybe if she opened up, he would too.
“My family rarely sat at the dining room table. If fact, most of the time we couldn’t. It was the place where all the shit ended up, bookbags, mail, folded laundry. So instead, we usually sat in the living room with our plates on our laps, watching repeats of old sitcoms like Cheers and Seinfeld. My dad loves Seinfeld. He can work a quote from the show into pretty much every conversation he has.”
Gage took another sip of his wine. “I think I would have liked eating dinner that way. We never ate anywhere besides the dining room. And I’ve never been able to break that habit. Even when it’s just me at home alone, I eat at the kitchen table.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
She continued with her family story. “Don’t get me wrong. I know all that research out there says dinnertime should be sacred, spent around the table. But…when I look back, some of my favorite times with my parents were sitting on the couch, laughing at Kramer and Elaine and George. Besides, my parents didn’t need a set mealtime to talk to me or Rhys. They talked to us all the time, about school and grades, our friends.”
“You’re close with your parents.”
She nodded. Gage had been here when her dad called last night for his weekly chat. She’d promised to keep it short before she answered, but Gage told her not to do that, to take her time. Then he’d gone to the kitchen to make coffee so she’d have privacy.
“Very. Were you? Close to yours?” she added.
Gage hesitated, and once again, she thought he might brush off her question. She was shocked when instead, he answered her.
“It was my mom who taught me how to cook. Monday was the chef’s day off, so after school on those days, I’d meet her in the kitchen, and we’d make dinner together.”
Gage’s tone when he spoke about his mother was the polar opposite of the one reserved for his dad. It was the first time he’d given her any insight into his mom.
“Was she Italian too? All homemade sauces and pastas and shit?”
He chuckled. “She was. But she liked to experiment in the kitchen, try different things. Her favorite thing to make was Indian cuisine.”
“Wow. That sounds way above my skill level.”
Gage bumped his hip against hers as they stood side by side in front of the stove. “We’ll work up to it.”
She caught the slight wince when he realized what he said. It wasn’t the first time he’d slipped up, alluded to some future plan that wasn’t going to happen.
“How old were you when she died?”
And just like that, the lightheartedness of the moment vanished, a sudden tension filling the air. “Twenty-one,” he said, and she could tell that was the last thing he intended to say on the subject.
Penny wanted to kick her own ass for bringing up such a sad topic, especially after finally getting him to open up. She had a million more questions she wanted to ask about his mother, his brothers, and his dad, but she knew she wouldn’t get answers. So she fought to bring back the fun.
“You know. As much as I appreciate this lesson, I’m pretty content with my current cooking routine.”
Gage took the escape she provided, smirking at her. “Your current routine can’t be called cooking. Takeout, delivery, and bowls of cereal are not cooking.”
“Maybe not, but once or twice a month, I give Aunt Berta money for groceries, and she makes me a couple of casseroles that I can reheat in the microwave. That’s sort of cooking.”
Gage shook his head. “Not even close.”
The timer went off, and Gage checked the spaghetti noodles. Confident they were done, he strained the water. “Want to grab the garlic bread from the oven?”
“Are you sure you trust me?”
“Just do it,” he said with a laugh, loading their plates with a small helping of salad, the spaghetti, then grabbing a slice of bread from the tray.
Penny refilled their wine glasses, grabbed forks and napkins.
Gage started for her small kitchen table.
“Want to eat in front of the TV?” she offered.
He gave her a bemused look. “You seriously ate spaghetti on your lap?”
She nodded. “And steak and fried chicken. I’m a master when it comes to balancing plates full of food on my lap.”
“How about a compromise?” He left the kitchen with their plates, setting them on the coffee table before grabbing two pillows from the couch and tossing them to the floor. “A table and TV.”
“Perfect.” They both took a seat on the floor next to each other, while she grabbed the remote and started channel surfing. “Ooo. RuPaul’s Drag Race?”
“Pass.”
She clicked for a minute more before finding Seinfeld. She looked in his direction for approval, and he nodded.
“Yeah. Leave it there.”
They ate as they watched, cracking up at the classic lines, referring to themselves in third person after “The Jimmy” episode.
“Penny wants more wine,” she announced after they’d finished eating.
Gage stopped her before she could stand up. “Gage wants Penny. Naked.”
“Penny likes Gage’s idea better,” she joked.
Gage rose then held his hand down to her. “Bedroom.”
They raced each other to her room, tripping and shoving each other out of the way in their attempt to get there first. They were laughing, out of control by the time they got there.
“I win!” she announced.
Gage lifted her up and tossed her on the bed, coming down on top of her. “Nope. I do.”
He lowered his head and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sinking into his kiss, certain no future dates or—God, please—boyfriends would ever kiss as good as Gage. He tasted delicious, like tomatoes, garlic, wine.
He’d definitely followed through on her request to try “all” the positions. They’d spent the weekend working their way through his own personal Kama Sutra list, including everything from sixty-nine to sex against the wall to several variations of missionary and doggie style where he bent her like a pretzel.
She’d discovered she had muscles in places she didn’t even know existed.
After several minutes, he lifted his head and looked at her. She got a sense he was thinking about what happened next, so she remained quiet, curious about what tonight would bring.
He pushed himself off the bed then held his hand out to help her stand as well.
“Take your clothes off, Penny,” he commanded as he began to strip off his own.
She did as he asked, anxious to get down to the good stuff. Any shyness she’d felt around him initially was long gone. They’d spent more time together naked than dressed over the past few days.
Once they were bare, she started to climb back on the bed, but he stopped her, gripping her upper arm.
“Get your butt plug. And lube.”
Penny’s heart skipped several beats. He’d mentioned claiming every drop of her virginity, but so far, anal play hadn’t made an appearance.
She bent down to pull her box of toys out from under the bed. She grabbed what he asked for, tossing them on the mattress.
She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, just as she could feel the heat creeping to her face. No doubt she was as red as a beet at the moment.
“You look nervous.”
She shook her head but still didn’t establish eye contact.
“Look at me, Penny.”
She sighed, but he wasn’t inclined to wait for her to comply. He cupped her chin and pulled her face up. “You have played with the plug before, haven’t you?”
She nodded.
“And you enjoyed it?”
She’d loved it. Rather than admit that aloud, she merely nodded again.
“Then why are you nervous?”
Penny considered lying but realized that would only hurt her in the long run. “You’re a hell of a lot bigger than that plug, and believe me, just taking that in was a challenge.”
He reached out and pulled her into his embrace and she rested her head on his chest. “Tonight, we’re just going to play with the plug.”
She lifted her head. “But you said—”
“I know what I said. But if that scares you, then it’s off the table. These lessons are for you, remember?”
She considered that, hating the way he continued to refer to what they were doing as lessons, even though there was no denying that’s exactly what they were.
Because at the end of every “lesson,” he got dressed and left, never once spending the night again. No more near misses like the first time, when he fell asleep with her initially, only to cut and run in the middle of the night.
At least he’d honored her request by not offering her lame excuses or lies.
Nope.
Instead, they’d lay together for a few minutes, catch their breath, and then he’d offer the dreaded, “I should head home” line. That was it. And because she was her, she always said, “Okay. Good night,” as she walked him to the door without requesting more.
Longing for more from Gage was a one-way ticket to Broken Heartsville.
“Okay,” she said stupidly, aware he was waiting for an answer. She was drifting back into that bad habit of getting lost in her own head.
He studied her face a moment longer, looking at her in that way that sometimes had her worrying that he could read her mind. Could he tell she was catching feelings for him? Had she somehow let the mask slip?
Her concerns eased when he said, “Get on the bed. Hands and knees.”
She quickly assumed the position because it meant he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see her struggle to keep her emotions out of what was happening between them.
Gage ran his hand over her bare butt cheek then playfully smacked it. She wiggled her ass, encouraging him to do more. He accepted the dare, smacking her again, harder. She’d never considered herself the type of person to get turned on by a spanking, but she couldn’t deny she liked the heat and the…well…the psychology behind it.
It made her feel naughty and wicked and wanton—all sexy words for a very awkward girl. She liked it.
Gage peppered her ass a few more times, though he wasn’t hitting her particularly hard. Then he ran his hands over the freshly spanked skin. “So warm,” he mused.
She was tempted to go for broke and ask him to turn up the heat—to take her from warm to hot, but she forgot the request the moment something a lot less hot touched her.
Gage had opened the lube, placing some around her anus.
“Breathe, Penny,” he reminded her. Something he had to do quite a lot. She’d heard the word breathtaking a million times in her life, but with Gage, it wasn’t a cliché. It was a problem. He’d touch her, and instinctual things like breathing suddenly became impossible.
She tensed up when the tip of his finger breached the tight hole.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Just relax.”
“Turn around and let me stick my finger up your ass. Then we’ll see how relaxed you are.”
Gage chuckled. “We’ll save that for next time.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Seriously? You’d let me do that?”
“I’m not saying it’s one of my turn-ons, but if you wanted to explore that way, I’d be game.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’m going to crack the Gage code. Every time I think I’m getting close, you say something that doesn’t…fit.”
He leaned down and bit her ass cheek.
“Ouch!” she said, though it didn’t hurt so much as surprise her.
“Penny.”
“Hmmm?”
“Don’t stop trying to crack the code.”
She didn’t know what to make of that request, but it wasn’t like he was giving her a lot of time to think about stuff. His finger returned, only this time, it sank two knuckles deep.
She groaned, dropping down from her hands to her elbows, resting her forehead against the mattress as Gage slowly—oh-so slowly—walked her through anal play. She had no idea how much time had passed as he added lube, then another finger, then found a rhythm—not too easy but not too fast—that had her toes curling with pleasure.
When she experimented with the plug on her own, she’d been a bit too reticent in testing her own limits. Gage wasn’t giving her that option. He pushed her to, and then beyond, what she thought she could handle.
By the time she felt the tip of the plug against her ass, her arousal was off the charts.
“Please,” she whispered, when he simply held the toy there. She thought perhaps he was waiting for permission, but when he failed to move, she realized that wasn’t it.
Lifting her head, she looked back at him. First at his face, and then lower.
She wasn’t the only one impacted by the eroticism of their play. She’d never seen his cock so erect, so thick and hard.
“Gage?”
“Roll over on your back, Penny. I want to see your face when I slide this in.”
Damn. That was hot.
But also, a lot.
Gage never let her hide her feelings about the things they did. It was as if her reactions fueled his own arousal.
She paused…for a second or two too long.
“Do as I say.”
She had no idea what it was about those words, but when he said them to her, she was moving before her brain could consider her actions.
Instantly, she twisted on the mattress, lying on her back, her legs outstretched.
He lifted her ankles, resting them on his shoulders, then lost no time taking them right back to where they’d left off. Except this time, he didn’t stop just before breaching her tight hole. He pushed the well-lubed toy inside. And he didn’t work it in slowly, like she did to herself.
Gage preferred the straight-forward method, pushing it in with one powerful thrust.
She winced slightly when the widest flared point penetrated then released a long sigh when it was fully lodged inside.
“Okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “So okay.”
“Good. Because we’re not done.”
“What do you—”
Gage crawled over her, caging her beneath him, then placed his dick at the opening of her pussy and—
“Wait!” was all she got out before Gage slammed into her soaking-wet pussy with the same relentless, take-no-prisoners thrust he’d used for the plug.
She was stretched beyond full, so she’d expected pain.
What she hadn’t expected was the orgasm.
It ripped through her like a tornado, razing everything in its path. Penny arched up, crying out his name along with her entire repertoire of curse words.
“Motherfucker! Goddammit. Holy shit. Gage! Gage.”
He didn’t move. Not a single muscle. Instead, he remained there, buried inside her, riding out the storm.
When she returned to earth, he was looking down at her with something like…
She didn’t know. Wonder? Adoration?
There was one word tugging at her consciousness, but she wouldn’t let herself think it. Wouldn’t let herself feel it.
Oh, who the fuck was she kidding?
She felt it. She felt it with every fiber of her being.
Love.
And for a split second…she thought she’d seen the same emotion reflected in his eyes.
But only for a second.
Because then…it was on like Donkey Kong.
Gage began to thrust—deep—driving her to the brink again. The second orgasm was gentler, though it still packed a punch. She lay boneless beneath him, something that didn’t escape Gage’s notice.
He chuckled then kissed her cheek. “Still with me?”
She shook her head, her eyelids too heavy to lift. “Nope. I’m a goner, no hope for me. Leave me here and save yourself.”
