Page 61 of Red My Lips

“Looks like the party’s moving to the bar,” Gage says, taking my hand to lead me inside. “Let’s get you that drink.”

The bar is crowded, but Gage has no problem cutting through the knots of people to an empty corner along the wall. Telling me to wait here, he makes his way over to the bar to order us some drinks.

Standing at the bar while the slammed bartenders scramble to fulfill orders, a blonde head approaches Gage that has me bristling. She’s clearly got her sights set on my man, and he lets her get closer than he should—anything within ten feet is too fucking close. And when she strikes up a conversation, he lets her.

The buxom blonde leans closer and closer, every centimeter eating away at my already thin patience. Gage’s eyes remain intently on her plastic face—too fucking intently.

“So where’s the party going after this?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes at him. I’ll rip every one of those two-hundred-dollar lash extensions off her face right now. And her eyeballs are going next.

“No one said anything about an after party,” Gage says nonchalantly.

“Give me your phone number. I’ll give you a call when I find one.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Then hand me your phone, and I’ll give you mine.” One of the other girls she came with calls out, beckoning her over. Before she sachets over to her group, she leans forward to give him a look at her cleavage and flashes what I assume is supposed to be her version of bedroom eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

Tramp.

Grabbing our drinks from the bartender, Gage walks back over to me. He can sense the storm brewing, and I swear the fucker looks excited about it.

“Go ahead. Get her number, flirt away. I’d love to see what happens when you do.” I accept the martini and take a sip.

“Are you jealous, little devil?”

“Jealous?” I lean in so close that my lips brush against his as I speak. “Baby, I’m vengeful. You don’t want to see what happens when I get jealous.”

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Gage pushes off the wall, places his drink down on the nearest table, then strides over to stand behind me. One of his hands wraps around my waist to pull me until my back is pressing against his chest. His other wraps possessively around my throat, lifting my chin to bare the skin of my neck to him. “You have nothing to worry about, Jill. I prefer brunettes who play with knives and have a taste for violence.”

“I was never worried,” I say, my eyes shooting daggers at the tipsy tramp arguing with one of her wasted friends. “But she should be. I don’t like bitches who can’t take a hint.”

I can feel Gage’s chuckle rumble through his chest, the rich sound vibrating over my skin. His nose presses through my hair, trailing up my neck to speak into my ear. “I’ll just have to make myself clear then. I already belong to someone.”

Bottle blondie’s eyes meet mine just in time to see Gage press his lips to my neck to taste my skin. His hand on my stomach lowers until his fingers are halfway under the waistband of my jeans. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, an offended look crossing her face. She tries to hold my piercing gaze, but after a moment, she averts her eyes when it proves too intense. Watching her stomp away has victory trickling through me.

“She’s gone,” I say when Gage’s mouth doesn’t let up from its exploration. His teeth catch my earlobe, giving it a little nip.

“There are other women here. If I stop, they won’t get the message.” He’s growing hard against my back as he groans. “I could get lost in you for days and never get bored.”

“What are you going to do? Eat my pussy right here in a crowded bar?”

“I would spend a day with my head between your legs on national television without a second thought. I’ll gladly get on my knees to show you where I stand.”

“Keep talking like that, and I might let you,” I say. “But I don’t think Connie would approve.” Gage chuckles at that.

“My mom would cheer me on, then skin me alive,” he says, pulling back to turn me around. I look up at him, my arms wrapping around his neck. “I’m a selfish bastard, I don’t feel like sharing you with the world. At least not tonight.”

“Oh yeah? So what are you going to do with me tonight?” I ask, my eyes sparking.

“I’m gonna get you into a nice hot bubble bath.”

“Mmmm,” I hum. “Keep talking.”

“Candles, wine, bubbles.” A smirk tugs at his lips. “You—naked and covered in suds.”

“And what are you going to be doing?” I raise my brows, the ghost of a smile crossing my lips.

“I thought you’d know me by now,” he chides. “I’ll be watching.” The way he gazes at me sends sparks skating across my skin as the air around us turns hazy with our chemistry. My nails play with the nape of his neck, dragging to scratch him—but not hard enough to draw blood. His eyes warm, arousal rippling through his body.

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