Page 26 of Made for You
I gave myself ten more seconds to spiral before I got down to the practical business of getting ready for what was to come.
I exfoliated until my skin gleamed, shaved everything that needed it, then moisturized every inch of skin with my favorite lotion—the same one I’d been wearing the night I first met Gage.
Naked, I padded into the bedroom and slid open the bottom dresser drawer—the one I reserved for silk and lace, for the version of myself I rarely let out. I ran my fingers over the delicate fabrics before selecting a blood-red lingerie set that showed off my curves. Armor, I told myself as I slipped it on. A uniform for what was to come.
My makeup was next, the kind that looked dewy and effortless but required time and patience to achieve.
When I passed the full-length mirror on the other side of the room, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. She had the sharp edges of the Bellrose Ice Princess that financial magazines loved to write about, but tonight somethingsimmered beneath that polished surface. Something wild and reckless. Something longing to be set free.
I wrapped a silk robe around my body and moved through the bedroom in a daze, smoothing the duvet and straightening the books on the nightstand. Small things to keep my hands busy while anticipation hummed under my skin.
After a while, I found myself drifting back to that bottom drawer, all the while thinking about what Ireallywanted from this night.
What Gage could give me—and what I could give to him.
I reached for a length of silky, cobalt rope. If ever there was a man who’d know how to use it, I was certain it was the sexy cowboy on his way over.
I was about to close the drawer when something caught my eye—a glint of velvet nestled in the far corner. My heart quickened as I reached for it. The vibrating plug was heavier than I remembered as I turned it over in my hand. Memories of my friend Jen, her cheeks flushed from the bottle of wine we’d shared, leaning forward conspiratorially and whispering, “It changed my life, Siena. I never knew I could come like that.”
In a moment of bold curiosity, I’d bought my own the very next day, but it had remained untouched, a boundary I hadn’t dared to cross.
Something about Gage made me want to shed every inhibition, explore every untapped desire I’d ever had. With him, the woman in the mirror—wild-haired and flushed—wasn’t the Ice Princess everyone accused me of being. She was someone braver, hungrier.
Needier.
And for all that … still not entirely ready to go there, despite the way he’d played with me the last time we were together.
I trusted Gage to see to all my wildest fantasies and quench all my most lurid desires, butthatrequired a different type oftrust. One we didn’t have.One we might never have, I thought with a long sigh as I set the plug back inside the drawer.
Setting the rope on my nightstand next to a fresh bottle of lube, I checked the time on my phone and went downstairs to unlock the front door, as Gage had instructed me to do.
I wandered aimlessly through the house, a cloud of anxiety and lust swirling under my skin, until I finally floated back upstairs to pull down the covers on my bed. I slid beneath the warm flannel sheets and then immediately hopped out of bed, mentally chastising myself.
We weren’tsleepingtogether. We were fucking. We didn’t need warm and cozy for that.
At ten minutes to eight, I stood in front of my bedroom window with the curtain drawn back and watched the dark edge of the drive for his arrival.
“You’re being absurd,” I told myself, my voice sounding too breathy to be properly scolding.
At 7:56, I texted him.
Siena
Door is unlocked.
His reply arrived so fast I wondered if he’d been waiting to hear from me.
Gage
Good girl.
The words arrowed straight through me. I knew exactly why, but I wasn’t ready to unpack that particular box tonight.
I turned off my ringer and set my phone face down on my dresser with hands that weren’t as steady as I liked, then ditched my robe. As I climbed onto the mattress, headlights swept across the room, washing me in a flood of white. Gravel crunchedoutside, and my pulse matched the slow, deliberate sound of his boots coming up the porch steps.
The front door creaked open, then clicked shut. My stomach clenched as I strained to hear the soft thud of his hat landing on the entryway table, the rustle of his jacket sliding from his shoulders. In my mind, I could see his broad shoulders rolling as the fabric slipped away.
My breath caught when his first unhurried footfalls hit the stairs.
