Sugar Daddy Page 95

Wearing Gage's tux jacket over my dress, I went through the lobby and into the elevator with him. The rapid ascent of the elevator caused me to sway on my high heels. Gage reached for me, kissing me until I was red-faced and out of breath. I stumbled a little as he pulled me from the elevator. With an easy motion, he picked me up and carried me—actually carried me—down the hallway to his condo.

We went straight to the waiting silence of the bedroom, where I was undressed in the darkness. Now, after the hasty coupling in the car, the urgency had eased into tenderness. Gage moved over me like a shadow, finding the softest places, the most acute nerves. The more he soothed, the more I ached. Breathing in long sighs, I reached for him, thirsting for the hard planes of muscle, the resilent flesh, the midnight silk of his hair. He coaxed me open, his mouth and fingers harrowing delicately until all my limbs were widespread and my

body rose in a shuddering plea to receive him, and I moaned each time he slid inside me. Again, and again, until he had gone past all boundaries, inside me. immersed, possessing and possessed.

As the cowboy saying goes, a horse shouldn't be ridden hard and put away wet. That also applies to girlfriends, especially those who have gone a while without sex and need a little time to get back into the habit of it. I couldn't say how many times Gage reached for me in the night. When I woke up in the morning, muscles I didn't even know I had were aching, and my limbs were strained and stiff. And Gage was being very considerate, starting with bringing me coffee in bed.

"Don't bother trying to look remorseful." I said, leaning forward as he tucked an extra pillow behind my back. "It's obviously not a natural expression for you."

"I'm not remorseful." Dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans. Gage sat on the edge of the mattress. "I'm grateful."

I hitched the sheet higher over my na**d br**sts and took a careful sip of the steaming coffee. "You should be," I said. "Especially after that last time."

Our gazes held, and Gage laid his hand over my knee. The warmth of his palm penetrated the thin fabric of the sheet. "You all right?" he asked gently.

Damn him, he had an unerring ability to disarm me, showing concern just when I expected him to be arrogant or bossy. The nerves in my stomach tautened until my insides

felt like a trampoline. Everything was so good with him. I wondered if I could give him up for the man I'd always wanted.

I started to say I was fine, but instead I found myself telling him the truth. "I'm scared of making the biggest mistake of my life. I'm just trying to figure out what the mistake is."

"You mean who the mistake is."

That made me wince. "I know you'll be angry if I see him. but—"

"No I won't. I want you to see him."

My fingers tightened on the heated sides of the cup. "You do?"

"It's obvious I won't have what I want from you until the situation is resolved. You need to find out how he's changed. You need to see if any of the old feelings are still there."

"Yes." I thought it was very evolved of him to show such understanding.

"That's fine with me," Gage continued, "as long as you don't go to bed with him."

Evolved, but still a Texan.

I gave him a quizzical smile. "Does that mean you don't care what I feel for him. just as long as you're the one I'm ha**ng s*x with?"

"It means," Gage said evenly, "I'll take the sex for now and work on getting the rest later."

CHAPTER 23

From what I gathered, Churchill's evening hadn't been much better than mine. He and Vivian had ended the night with a brawl. She was the jealous type, Churchill said, and it wasn't his fault if other women had been friendly to him.

"How friendly were you to them?" I asked.

Churchill scowled as he used the remote control to flip the channels from his bed. "Let's just say it doesn't matter where I get my appetite, long as I come home for dinner."

"Good Lord. I hope you didn't say that to Vivian."

Silence.

I collected his breakfast tray. "No wonder she didn't stay last night." It was time for his shower—he'd gotten to the point where he could manage solo. "You have any problems getting showered and dressed, just buzz me on the walkie-talkie. I'll get the lawn guy to

come in and help you." I started to leave.

"Liberty."

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm not one to poke in other people's business..." Churchill smiled at the look I gave him. "But is there anything you might want to talk to me about? Anything new happening in your life?"

"Not a thing. Same old. same old."

"You started up something with my son."

"I'm not going to discuss my love life with you. Churchill."

"Why not? You did before."

"You weren't my boss then. And my love life didn't happen to include your son."

"Fine, we won't talk about my son," he said equably. "Let's talk about an old acquaintance who's started up a nice little bypassed-oil recovery outfit."

I nearly dropped the tray. "You knew Hardy was there last night?"

"Not until someone introduced us. Soon as I heard the name, I knew right off who he was." Churchill gave me a look of such understanding, I wanted to cry.

Instead I set the tray down and made my way to a nearby chair.

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