Page 81 of Surviving Lies

“No, not at all. It’s just that bourbon is an acquired taste.” He stood at the counter, mixing something up in a glass. When he finally made his way back to the couch, the drink in his hand was covered in fruit. “This will be a way to ease in. It’s an old-fashioned. I think you’ll like it.”

The dark cherry at the bottom of the glass combined with the slice of orange made it look appealing. “Where do you get these huge ice balls? They are so cool.” The first sip was a shock as the brown liquid bit at the back of my throat. But the fruitiness of the additives tempered the aftertaste. I took a bigger sip.

“I assume that means you like it,” Gage said approvingly. “And, by the way, they are a sipping drink.” He watched with horror as I downed the entire drink in my next swallow, the fruit and ice clanking to the bottom of the glass as I slammed it to the table.

The burn was rough; as it brought tears to my eyes, I held out my empty glass to Gage.

“I’ll have another, please.”

Taking the glass, he walked back to the bar and started preparing another drink. “I think this should be the last one, Becca. You don’t know how thisbrown shitwill affect you.” This time he came back with two glasses in his hand, one for each of us.

“Cheers.” It was a simple clink of our glasses, because we both knew there was nothing I was cheery about at the moment. He took a small sip of his, so I followed his lead and did the same. After putting our glasses on the table, we found a position that was comfortable for both of us on the couch. That entailed me cozying up into the crook of his arm, my head on his shoulder. I felt enveloped by him, by his arms and his heat. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol hitting me or not, but I relaxed against him. I did more than relax; I snuggled in close.

And I thought I let out a sigh.

“This is exactly what I needed,” I said. “Want to pick a movie?” I asked as I tilted my head to look at him. His eyes were on me, and I could tell a movie was not what was on his mind.

“Listen,” Gage said. “I know you don’t want to talk about anything. But I feel as though I have something to make up to you. I can do that without talking.”

That made me sit up a bit. My rounded eyes must have showed my astonishment at his words.

“I’m pretty sure I can help you relax even more than the bourbon can,” he said with a sly smile. “And my phone is silenced.” We both let out a low chuckle. Then his one hand came to the side of my face, fingertips grazing from my cheek to my jaw. My eyes fluttered closed as that hand trailed down the side of my neck, down the center of my chest, between my breasts.

“Gage, that wasn’t the reason I came over,” I whispered. Or was it?

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good,” he offered. “Do you think it will take your mind off of what’s bothering you?” His hands lowered to the bottom of my sweater and lifted it over my head. “Black lace,” he said with approval as he pushed me away to get a better look. “Take your pants off, Becca.”

Lying back on the couch, I peeled my leggings off. I was about to take my thong off as well, but he stopped me.

“Leave the bra and panties.” He pushed me onto my back on the couch and laid next to me. “I love how your nipples come through the lace of your bra.” His mouth was on my breast, over the lace, sucking. His hand squeezed the other breast, pinching the tight bud almost to the point of pain.

“Gage,” I said, stopping him by pulling his mouth from me. “Take your shirt off, please. I need to see you, some of you, feel your skin against me. The warmth of it – please.”

His dark eyes zeroed in on mine as I spoke, as I almost begged for him to do this. He reached above his head and pulled his shirt over and off. Supporting his weight above me with one arm, he used the hand of the other to touch my face. The trail of heat he left behind as his fingers traced a line from my jaw to my chest was enough to leave me breathless. His finger looped under the strap of my bra, playing with it.

“I’m torn between ripping this off of you and keeping it on. You look so damn sexy in black lace.” His warm breath as he spoke against my cheek made the hairs lift on the back of my neck.

The bra stayed on as his mouth moved to explore the tender skin between my breasts. My hands gripped his back, the tense muscles taut under my fingers as he suspended himself above me. Digging my nails into his skin elicited a growl that vibrated against me. He shifted himself against my lower half, his fully hard erection pushing against my leg.

His hand slowly wandered lower, grazing my stomach, reaching the band of my thong. He easily pushed his fingers under the thin material as he used a knee to separate my legs. His slow, torturous descent through my folds had me squirming underneath him.

“Someone is anxious,” he whispered against my ear.

But he obliged.

Two fingers drove inside of me hard and fast. The moan was involuntary, and he swallowed it with a deep kiss as his tongue invaded my mouth. He pushed his fingers in even deeper, thrusting with a rhythm that started the crescendo.

I suddenly realized I couldn’t get my mind off of what I had seen in Ty’s driveway.

The baby, in his arms.

Daddy.

I tried to force my mind to forget all of that, to focus on what was happening in the present.

“Becca, you are so fucking hot,” he mouthed against me as he pulled up for air. “Can I taste you?” He started maneuvering his way down my body, taking my panties with him as he went. I tried to get back into what we were doing. I mean, fuck, this hot guy was asking to go down on me. I would be a fucking idiot to say no to that. Right? I relaxed against the couch and worked real hard to get out of my head, to focus on this beautiful specimen of a man who was shirtless and between my legs.

But then there was a knock at the door.

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