Gage, page 19
“You’re quite the charmer,” she replies dryly and opens the car door.
I’d ordinarily get out first to open her door, because that’s how my mom raised me, but we’re still working out some kinks in this very new relationship.
Jenna rounds the front of the car and meets me at the door that leads into the house. We head into the kitchen where I open the fridge for two bottles of water. “You were a little quiet on the ride here,” I mention. “You okay?”
“I can’t stop worrying about what Keller might do to you,” Jenna says as she sets her purse on the counter.
I uncap a bottle and give it to Jenna before opening the other for myself. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. It was a scuffle. He wasn’t hurt. And now he’s gone.”
Jenna regards me with a mixture of admonition and amusement. “It was a bit more than a scuffle. You practically crushed his voice box.”
I roll my eyes and place my water bottle on the counter, moving into her. I take her bottle and set it down as well.
My hands go to the sides of her neck, and I peer down at her. My voice is low, husky. “Tell the truth… You found it sexy, didn’t you?”
She smirks and refuses to answer.
I bend down and nuzzle her ear, causing her to squirm. “Admit it… I made you hot and bothered, and you want nothing more than for me to take you to bed right now.”
Jenna snorts, and I chuckle. My mouth moves to hers for a long, slow kiss. Jenna sighs in pleasure, and her body yields.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I proclaim smugly.
“I’m not going to argue,” she replies.
I take her hand and pull her through the living room and down the hall to the master suite. She follows willingly, which is fitting, because I would gladly follow her anywhere.
My bedroom is exactly as I left it this morning. Sheets and blankets rumpled from last night. The single bedside lamp glowing, shining like a beacon on the bed where we’ll end up.
I turn around and pull Jenna into me, putting my mouth on hers for a ravaging kiss. The chemistry between us is volatile, and she immediately deepens it, hands going straight to the buttons of my shirt. She works them loose and growls her dismay to find a cotton T-shirt under it.
The muscles in my chest leap as her hands snake under my clothing, and I kiss her harder. My hands go to her ass, pulling her into me, and I squeeze the firm globes. Jenna gasps as she pulls and pushes at my two shirts, trying to get them off. I’m a good guy, so I help her out, and when I’m naked from the waist up, Jenna boldly leans back to take a good long look.
I work hard in the gym and I follow a fairly healthy diet. I do so for peak performance on the ice, but damn if a side benefit isn’t having a woman like Jenna look at me the way she is right now.
As if I were an ice cream cone she wants to lick.
Rather than maul me, she steps in and presses a kiss right where my heart rests on the left side of my chest. The tenderness of her lips touching my skin is erotic, and a bolt of lust shoots straight to my dick.
My knees almost buckle when Jenna drags her lips over my nipple and rolls her tongue there, eliciting a deep growl. Then she fucking nips it with her teeth, and I about lose my fucking mind.
Mindless with need, my hands pull at the hem of her turtleneck tucked into her tight jeans. I tug it upward, but it snags on her arms, which don’t raise to give me access to strip her.
Jenna lifts her gaze to mine, and I’m pained by the uncertainty in her eyes.
“The lamp,” she whispers, nodding at it behind me.
I have no clue if this is the right move, but I want to push her. I shake my head. “No. I want to see all of you, Jenna.”
Those honey-brown eyes swirl with fear and desire. Two competing emotions battling for control.
“I want to see you,” I repeat softly. “I want every part of you.”
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“I know.” I take her hands in mine, bend down, and brush my lips against her forehead. “All I can do is promise you a few things. I’ll never be disgusted or turned off by your scars. I’ve felt them. I think I know what to expect. I can’t deny I won’t be a bit shocked, because you know I will be. And I’m sure I’m going to be angry at fate for making you go through this. I’ll probably feel empathy, but never pity. Most of all, I’m going to revel in the way you share yourself with me, and I will admire you all the more for your courage. Your scars are evidence of a battle you’ve won, and they make you more beautiful than you will ever know.”
Jenna’s eyes bore into mine, still clouded with doubt. But her arms relax, and then rise, and she lets me pull her shirt up and over her head.
I stare down at the lacy black bra she purchased for the sole purpose of being sexy and spurring my lust. It’s working.
With my fingertips, I drag just one cup down and over her nipple, scraping it along the way. It puckers before my eyes.
Using both my hands, I undo the front clasp and allow her breasts to spill free. I slide my fingers under the straps and push the lacy material to the floor.
My palms cover her breasts, and I gently squeeze them. “You are so fucking beautiful,” I say reverently as I rub my thumbs over her nipples. I smile at the responsiveness, the tight little buds shriveling from the barest touch. “So sensitive.”
I bend down and suck one into my mouth, and I’m not gentle about it. Jenna moans, her hands sliding into my hair to hold me there.
I pull away with a pop and give the same treatment to the other nipple. “Gage,” she gasps, jerking at my hair.
My hands work the button and then the zipper of her jeans. I slide my hands inside at her hips, straight under her panties, and push the pants down her legs, squatting as I go.
“Hold on,” I say gruffly as I lift a foot to pull off her boot. Next comes the sock as she balances with her hands on my shoulders. Jenna’s breath comes faster, and I feel it blowing over the top of my head.
I tug her jeans the rest of the way off and then lift my head to stare up at her. Her eyes are shadowed from the lamplight, so I don’t know how she’s feeling. My palms go to her ass, feeling the welted skin as I press my face into her sex. “I am going to destroy this with my mouth.”
I give her a long lick to show her what’s coming, and Jenna cries out.
But before I go down on her with the sole intention of making her come hard, I stand back up and take her face in my hands. I kiss her softly on the mouth and then lower my hands to her shoulders.
“Turn around for me,” I murmur.
Her breath stutters and she swallows hard, but her chin lifts. Ever so slowly, she pulls on her immense bravery and relies on the trust she has in me.
Jenna gives me her back.
I gather her long hair and rest it over one shoulder so I can see everything. The red, mottled skin seems to have been pieced together like a patchwork quilt, extending over most of her back, buttocks, and thighs. My heart aches for the physical torment she must’ve endured during her recovery. For the emotional toll it has taken.
Jenna’s body is stiff, and she’s holding her breath. With my fingertips, I start at the back of her shoulder and trace the various scarred lines. Leaning in, I brush my lips over each one.
“This one right here,” I whisper, kissing just below her left shoulder blade. “I’m going to call this one fortitude.”
A shudder ripples through Jenna’s body, and I don’t know if it’s from desire or angst. But I don’t stop.
Tracing the skin almost over to her ribs, I circle an area with the pad of my finger. “This area I’ll call strength, vulnerability, and triumph.”
Jenna’s breath comes out in a rush, a sound of pent-up pain within. My heart clenches, but I keep going.
Drawing my hand down over her ass, I palm one cheek. The skin is pinkish with a rough texture. “Your ass is slamming, Ms. Holland.”
I squeeze and bend my lips to brush over her shoulder, and Jenna actually giggles. I smile against the scarring there.
Stepping into her backside, Jenna can’t doubt how much I want her by my hard length pressed into her. I wrap an arm around her chest, palming one breast. I move my other hand around to her stomach and slide it down so my fingers play between her legs. Jenna tries to squirm away and then leans into the pressure I’m creating. Her head falls against my shoulder, and she mewls with need. I’m so aroused by her trust and her beauty—scars and all—that I’m afraid I’m going to embarrass myself.
Afraid I’ll blow the minute I sink inside her.
I spin Jenna around to face me, crushing my mouth down on hers and hauling her against my body. I pick her up under her ass, only to take two steps toward the bed to toss her onto it. She gasps as my hands go to her ankles, and I pull her to the side of the mattress until her butt is hanging off the edge.
She struggles up to her elbows to watch me as I drop to my knees. Her eyes widen as I drape her legs over my shoulders and spread her apart. I glance up her body, my eyes locking with hers. “You might want to lie back and get comfortable,” I advise with a sinister smile. “I’m probably going to be here awhile.”
“Oh God,” she mutters and flops against the bed. I grin as I put my mouth to her, quelling her body with my hand to her stomach as she jerks and writhes.
I settle in, ready to show Jenna just how much I adore every part of her.
Jenna bucks under my tongue, and I make her come hard, just as I’d wanted. Then I do it to her all over again until she’s begging me to fuck her.
I’m insane with need by the time she quiets from her last orgasm, and she’s as loose as a rag doll as I flip her on the bed. I haul her to her hands and knees, crawl onto the bed behind her, and drive into her wet warmth with a groan of relief.
Jenna’s back arches. “Oh God, Gage… that’s… that’s…”
She can’t finish the thought as I move in and out of her, hands gripping her hips. Her head bows as she pants through the pleasure, and I stare at the network of scars on her back.
Running my hands along the imperfect skin that I find incredibly beautiful, I slam into her harder and harder. Her absolute trust in me and the way she’s submitting herself for my perusal makes me feel almost feral in my need to have her.
As my orgasm builds, I wrap my arms around her stomach and lift her up before bracing a hand on the headboard. I hold her tight to me as I drive into her over and over until I unload into her body with a roar of satisfaction. Jenna cries out again, and I feel the tremors of pleasure flowing through her as we share this beautiful connection.
I fall down to the bed with her, rolling us to our sides. Still planted inside, I gather her close.
I am fucking lost to this woman.
CHAPTER 22
Jenna
I wake up slowly, not wanting to leave the cocoon of warmth and safety I feel in slumber. The bright light coming through the wooden blinds refuses to let me fall back asleep, and I realize I’m spooned in front of Gage, his arms wrapped around me. His breathing is deep and steady, and I’m so comfortable that I want to drift off again.
Last night was pivotal.
I showed Gage my scars, and he cherished them.
Not only that, he was as attracted to me as ever, if the things we did were any indication. He was insatiable, but so was I. He made me feel so comfortable in the butterscotch glow of the side table lamp.
Gage stirs, his arms tightening around my midsection. We’re naked, having fallen into an exhausted sleep in this very position. His chest pressed to my scarred back, pelvis to my scarred bottom, and legs threaded through mine. I feel the hairs on his legs on my unmarred flesh, though not on the damaged parts.
“You awake?” Gage murmurs, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I whisper, snuggling back into him.
Lifting his arm, he brings his watch closer to his face for a look. “Ugh… I have to be at the arena in an hour and a half for a team meeting.”
Gage had been told after last night’s win that there would be a mandatory meeting this morning to discuss logistics of moving forward into the playoffs, especially given the upheaval after the termination of Matt Keller.
Shifting and adjusting the covers, pulled up over my shoulder, Gage flips me so I’m facing him. “Good morning,” he says with a smile, leaning in to kiss me.
The kiss is chaste, just a brush of lips. “Good morning,” I murmur.
His arms are around me again, this time his palm running over my back. I can’t help the slight flinch upon first touch. Not sure I’ll ever get over it, but it’s a struggle to push down thoughts of embarrassment and shame, even if we had moments last night where Gage looked at my scars. That was so sweet and beautiful, in the dark of his room with only ambient lamplight.
But here in the bright light of day, my eyes puffy from sleep and mouth stale with morning breath, I’m exceedingly self-conscious.
I don’t know whether he feels my tension, but Gage doesn’t press me for anything, instead asking, “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” I reply. I’m an early riser by nature, and we slept in a bit, so my stomach is ready.
“All right.” Gage kisses me again, this time quickly but fiercely, leaving me breathless. Then he’s rolling off the bed, in the process pulling at the covers that are hiding me. I grab them back, tuck them around me, and watch with pure pleasure as a naked Gage Heyward moves without an ounce of shame.
He’s a work of art. Perfection of body.
His soul far transcends that beauty.
Moving to his dresser, he pulls out a pair of sweats and steps into them gracefully. Looking over his shoulder as he ties the drawstring, he asks, “Eggs and bacon?”
I nod. “And coffee.”
“Get up, lazy butt.” He beams at me and walks out the door, grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand on the way.
When Gage is out of sight, I roll from the bed, taking the sheet with me. I don’t have the guts to walk naked around the bedroom in broad daylight to get my clothing. Just as I’m bending over to pick up my panties, Gage walks back in. “How do you want your eggs?”
I yelp as I straighten, clutching the sheet at my chest. I feel heat flame my face, and Gage freezes. All within a single glance, he takes me in—wild-eyed and looking uncomfortable—and his expression softens. “Sorry… didn’t mean to catch you unawares.”
“No,” I exclaim, rushing to assure him. “It’s not that…”
Gage stares at me.
“Okay, it is that. I’m still not entirely comfortable with you seeing all of me.”
“A little too bright?” he guesses.
I nod in agreement. “Last night was very romantic. Soft light, sweet words. Right now, I’ve got horrid breath, I really need to pee, and it’s too bright. I’m just not ready to have you see me like that.”
“I love you, Jenna,” he says, and I’m so startled, the sheet slips a little.
“What?” I gasp.
Gage walks to me, cupping my face in his hands. “I love you. Simple as that. I love you just as you are, even your neurotic side that is still coming to grips with your budding confidence in putting yourself out there. If you only want me to see you now in ambient light, that’s fine. I can wait until it’s right for you to be bright. But just know that I love you completely, and it’s never been more apparent than it is right now.”
My shoulders sag with relief that he not only understands without me uttering a word, but accepts me as I am.
But more importantly… he loves me?
“Gage,” I whisper, overwhelmed by his words, and there’s not a single piece of me—even that part that’s still terrified and insecure—that doubts him.
“Shh.” He brushes his lips lightly over mine. “Not a word needs to be spoken. Now tell me how you want your eggs.”
“Scrambled.”
He kisses me again and then smacks me on the butt. “Get dressed and come eat.”
When he walks out, he shuts the bedroom door behind him, a clear signal he’s respecting my need for privacy.
Rather than be thrilled over the words he just shared, I drop onto the edge of the mattress, disappointed in myself. I don’t think I let Gage down because I trust him when he says he’ll wait until I’m comfortable, but I feel like I’m letting myself down.
The thing with Keller last night bothered me more than it should. I made a conscious decision to put my hair back… expose more of the scarring along my jaw, although I still wore a turtleneck to cover most of it.
It was a baby step, and while Brienne is right—most people didn’t bat an eye—the truth is the one person who reacted horribly to it at first had ogled me.
I went from a sexy, desirable woman to being repulsive, and it’s hard to reconcile which is the true me. Maybe I’m both, but if that’s true, how can Gage even look at me?
Glancing at the firmly closed door, I drop the sheet. I trust Gage to give me complete privacy. I use the bathroom to dress, brushing tangles from my hair as best I can with my fingers. Staring at myself in the mirror, I try to see the new woman I’ve become over the last few weeks.
Brushing my hair back, I study the scars on my jaw and neck. Imperfections that most people don’t pay attention to but visibly repulsed Keller to the point he commented about it. Unfortunately for him, he made the comment to the man who happens to… love me.
How did that happen? I move my face, study it from different angles. He loves Jenna Holland, scars and all.
Why did it happen? It’s a marvel to me.
I smile at myself, accepting the reflection smiling back. If Gage can love it, so can I.
In the kitchen, I find Gage with his back to me, moving a spatula around a pan of eggs. The broad expanse of his back is gorgeous, his hair mussed from sleep. He hums a low, snappy tune that I can’t place, bopping his head along with it.
I could sit here and stare at him forever—a perfect combo of male beauty and down-to-earth goodness.
“What are you singing?” I ask, moving to the coffee pot.
