Page 55 of Surviving Lies

He stalked, in that sexy, predatory way he does, back toward the living room. That was when I got a glimpse of the front of him in his gray sweatpants.

And, yep, he knew exactly what he was doing. The soft material clung to the outline of him. I swear I could make out the veins in his dick through his pants. I knew he felt huge when I leaned up against him by the pond. But, fuck! Hewashuge! I mean, really fucking huge!

“Becca?” he asked, as if he was repeating himself.

“Yeah?”

“Want to come sit down?” He was gesturing to the couch with the hand that held his whiskey. The to-die-for couch we had picked out together.

“Oh, sure.”

He definitely caught me staring at his dick. The wicked smile on his face was just short of a laugh. I was circling around the sectional, eyeing up that big seat in the middle where the sides meet, when his phone buzzed. We both stared at it on the glass-and-hammered-metal coffee table as it vibrated with the incoming call. His hand rushed to quiet the phone, and he noticeably turned it over once he did.

But not before I saw a heart next to whatever name was on the screen.

But what business was it of mine? Right? Without jumping to conclusions, I decided it could be a family member. Like maybe his mom.

Placing his drink on the table, he sat and patted the spot next to him.

“I want to sit over there,” I told him as I crawled into the corner. “Ahh, it’s still a really comfortable couch. We made the right decision.” I sank into the cushions as I leaned my head back. It felt amazing compared to the plastic leather thing they tried to tell us was a couch in our place.

His phone buzzed again. He reached for it quickly, about to silence it, when I noticed his face transform into something I’d never seen on him before. The anger darkened his eyes as he peered at the screen.

“Becca, excuse me for a minute. I have to take this.” He got up and went into the kitchen before answering. His hushed words were barely audible, but the tone was clear: hatred.

I didn’t want to eavesdrop, and I really wasn’t. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. But I knew it was a call he wasn’t happy to be on. The only thing I could have done was go outside to avoid hearing him. He’d never made it seem like he had problems with his family. But we really didn’t know each other at all. I didn’t even know what his family’s business was.

I busied myself on my phone when it sounded like the call was ending. He came stomping back into the living room, reaching for his glass, which he downed in one gulp.

“Do you mind if I have another?” he asked, a slight edge in his voice.

“Why would I mind? I’m not your mom or anything. Have another drink, Gage. Sounds like you need it.”

His pour was heavier this time, but he added a balled ice cube to the glass as well. He returned to the couch and fell against the back of it with an enormous sigh.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to take it, but if I hadn’t, they wouldn’t have stopped calling. Business.” He gave me a sideways glance before rubbing his face with both hands, as if trying to rub away whatever he’d just dealt with.

“Do you want me to go, Gage? If you have work to do, we can get together another night.”

His head snapped in my direction. “No, please stay. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you for days. I’m sorry.” He sat up and leaned against his knees before looking sideways at me again. “If you left, my day would be even worse. Come here.” He extended a hand for me to take.

I reached out and took it and he yanked me off the couch, right onto his lap, my legs straddling his. His hands moved to my hips, holding me in place as his back settled against the couch cushion. Looking up at me, he pulled aside my flannel shirt. And smiled.

“I was hoping there was going to be a tank top hiding under there,” he said as he slid the flannel off my shoulder. “I’ve been dreaming about having you on this couch since that day in the store. It got delivered a couple days ago, and I haven’t stopped thinking about you being on it with me. In a tank top.”

I allowed the shirt to fall to the floor behind me. I pulled my hair back from my chest and shoulders, moving it to my back. Gage had the reaction I was hoping for.

“Are you not wearing a bra, Becca?” he asked.

I shook my head, feeling every bit the naughty girl that I was.

I had every intention of coming here to do exactly what he was thinking as well.

His one hand left my hip and migrated up my side. He stayed on top of my shirt, grazing the side of my breast before finding the small mound in its center. His thumb rubbed it, which encouraged my nipple to respond immediately. The other nipple grew in anticipation of it being touched, both of them hard peaks under the cotton of my tank.

“Fuck, you have no idea how hot you look right now.” With both hands now, he pushed my tits together, thumbs flicking my nipples as he kneaded them. “The weight of them in my hands is enough to get my dick rock hard.”

And I felt him underneath me. Rock hard.

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