9. Chapter 9
We remained comfortably reclined together on the daybed. My brain was fuzzy two hours ago which is why I went back to sipping just beer. No more shots for me—not if I wanted to have any brain cells left to make good decisions. My head was cradled in the deep pillows leaning up against the brass headboard, my legs were bent at the knee, one kind of spread open toward Gage. He was resting on his side facing me with his head sharing the same large pillow as me. At times he'd let his head fall to my shoulder, like after something made him laugh, but then he'd lift it back up to look at me. Every time he did that, it brought us closer until only a few sacred inches separated us from completely falling together. I wondered if he was fully conscious of what he was doing. The straight men I knew would never be comfortable enough to lie this close to another man—especially a man who was openly gay.
I hadn't known Gage that long but he already felt familiar and safe, as if we'd hung around each other for years. We moved almost in sync no matter where we were, somehow already knowing just where the other would step or shift. Nothing felt awkward between us—except for that hug we'd shared earlier out by the grill. And it wasn't so much awkward as it was intense. I felt the rush wash over me, same as he obviously did, but I really didn't know how to proceed. Gage was supposed to be straight and we also worked together and that was a lethal combination no matter how you looked at it.
I could tell the hug was a turning point for Gage. When we stepped apart, I could see the realization in his eyes and a flush on his face. It looked like he'd had one of those "light bulb" moments when things suddenly made sense to him, maybe for the first time, and everything fell into acute focus. I'd felt the pull toward him several times before tonight but for Gage I think things had finally reached a level where he couldn't ignore it anymore. He obviously wanted to talk about it. He'd brought it up at least twice since our embrace. I felt bad for downplaying the weight of that hug. I'd basically dismissed how he felt but I did it to protect myself because of what happened the last time I let myself fall for a musician.
I know I shouldn't lump all musicians into the same category but my experience with Ben, my ex, sure left a sour taste in my mouth. I had no choice but to end it with him. Cheating is just one of those things I can't look beyond. I suspected he was sleeping around on the side but an incoming text one day forced me to face the truth. I had the proof I needed and after I confronted Ben he confirmed my suspicions. He'd even taken his confession one step further and admitted there were several hook-ups, not just the one I had proof of. I was grateful he was honest with me instead of lying to drag out the inevitable. Less than forty-eight hours later, Ben was out of the condo he'd bought for me along with his stuff, and two months later I secured a mortgage and bought the condo outright from him. A year later I sold the unit for a huge profit on my initial investment.
It was a clean break, without any drama but it still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch to go through. I got over his betrayal and moved on but never with a serious relationship. The fear of it happening again was always just beneath the surface for me and I became vigilant to protect myself.
I sighed at the bitter memories floating around inside my head but then movement from the man I couldn't stop thinking about, who was practically pressed up against me, drew my attention right back to the present—where it belonged.
Gage was an enormous presence even in a large room but having him close enough to smell his fragrant hair and skin was almost too much for me to process. Only an idiot would fuck it up by crossing the line between co-workers to lovers but in such a short span of time, sharing space with him at this deep-in-the-New-York-woods estate, I was close to losing myself in him. Completely.
My gaze dropped to the top of his head resting on my shoulder, absolutely loving the weight of him at my side. His long, dark waves were so close to my nose I could smell the citrus scent of his shampoo and I could barely stop my fingers from combing through the untamed locks. I couldn't do it, though. As much as I wanted to, I had to keep my hands to myself. My dick was half-hard just having him leaning against me like he was an extension of my own body.
He fit there perfectly, conforming to the bumps and valleys of my side, his warmth seeping deep within me. Fires burned beneath my skin at every point of him that pressed into me and I couldn't do a damn thing to quench my growing thirst for him. If we were going to cross this imaginary line looming between us it had to be him who made the first move. I couldn't do this any other way. Not to mention, it might be a step he'd never feel comfortable taking and I needed to accept that.
The other important detail about Gage Tennison I kept glossing over was his sexuality. He may hate the labels people felt they needed to attach to a person. He may even be comfortable lying this closely to a gay man without it leading to sex, but the fact still remained, his straight status was unlikely to change for me or any other man. I knew this made him hands-off but fucking hell, the chemistry we had was like nothing else I'd known.
And I couldn't forget that I'd played this game before, lost my heart, and the pain stayed with me for a long time afterward. I couldn't allow myself to get in too deep with Gage, although my heart was already swooning every time he looked at me. How could I not? His eyes were a shade of honey that melted my core. When his gaze locked on mine, I could feel the heat spread through my veins like a jolt of narcotics injected through a syringe.
His closeness to me every day had my emotions in a state of chaos from the start. He was touchy and free with himself, never pulling away from me for fear it meant anything sexual for two men to be touching. At times when we worked, he seemed to lean into me, like he were reaching for something unobtainable just beyond his scope of logic and I loved every fucking second of it. His affection toward me had me preening like a needy cat and I couldn't help myself from reciprocating.
Our dynamic had changed dramatically since the day I arrived to find a blissfully naked Gage singing his heart out in the family room. I thought my knees were going to give out at the sight of him. Ridge after ridge of tanned muscle in all the right places covered with a light dusting of dark hair on his legs and chest. His torso was practically a work of art, with perfectly defined pectorals that had soft wisps of hair swirling over each. Then there was the happy trail that cut his stomach in half from the navel down, leading to the goods which were hidden behind his guitar—until he set the instrument into a stand next to the coffee table and nothing was left to my imagination. At that point, all I saw was a large, swinging dick and a gleam in his eyes that told me he loved that I was seeing him in that state of undress. Hands down, he was absolutely glorious and I wanted to drop to my knees and worship what his gene pool had bestowed upon him.
Lucky bastard.
I was wishing like hell I was wearing tinted sunglasses to afford me the opportunity to drink him in without him knowing. But I hadn't been wearing sunglasses and I'm sure he knew I was looking my fill. Even still, I felt confident he was clueless to how his nakedness had truly affected me. After all, I was a professional. Right?
Ray said Gage was testing me and since that first day, Gage had given me several more tests which I was certain I passed. He was testing me right now by being pressed against me on this daybed, and I was sure there'd be many more tests of my resilience in the days to come. I was hell-bent on passing any challenge he threw at me and I'd not only pass with flying colors but with an entire rainbow soaring across the sky like Hailey's comet with exploding glitter bombs bursting at our feet like fireworks.
Gage sighed contentedly where he was stretched out against me like I was his favorite body pillow. I tipped my head and took a moment to watch the way his chest lifted with each inhale. I smiled at how he was once again aligned to me like he simply couldn't bear to be more than a few inches away. I loved these moments of peace between us but it sometimes fucked with my mind, made me think too much. I was already feeling things for Gage that I had no right to. Our position on the daybed was intimate, something lovers would do or share after a long day at work and a mutually prepared meal. But we weren't a couple. We were nothing more than co-workers, but fuck, I wanted more.
"Your boss warned me about you," I stated to break the stillness in the room. I pushed some of the wavy hair off his forehead.
"My boss?" Gage replied, lifting his head slightly from my shoulder.
"I mean, Ray," I clarified.
"He's definitely not my boss, although on some days he sure as fuck thinks he is," Gage said and chuckled softly. "What the hell did he say to you?"
"He told me your MO with previous assistants was to sleep with them and it muddied the waters," I detailed. "He said several PAs had quit because of your. . . propensity to get them into bed. It's why he hired me instead of a woman. He thought me being a gay man would be a safe bet because you wouldn't be tempted to screw me. But, if he could see the way you're sprawled across me now, he might start to wonder if certain lines were being crossed."
Gage lifted himself up on an elbow to bring our faces level. "We already discussed this topic and I told you Ray is full of shit," Gage said. "First of all, I didn't sleep with all of my assistants, and also most of them came on to me—not the other way around. What was I supposed to do? Push them away and hurt their feelings? And putting all that aside, you are no longer my assistant—you're my music partner which makes us equal."
"I see what you're saying, but still. . . "
"It was purely physical," Gage explained with a hint of a grin that was like the warm whiskey sliding down my throat from earlier. "We both had something the other wanted and we let nature take its course. It wasn't my fault one or two of them thought that made them special to me. I don't do special and I was up front about that with them, so they quit."
"Hmm."
"What is your ‘hmm' implying?" he questioned with the lift of one dark brow.
"Nothing—special." It was my turn to smirk, and he leaned closer and snapped his teeth together again as if he was about to bite.
"Careful, Gage. What you're doing borders on flirting," I teased.
He shrugged. "I'm pretty sure we're both guilty of flirting with each other in one way or another since the day we met."
"If you're admitting to it then I should warn you flirting with the gay man in the room is risky business," I said as if he needed reminding as to who he was pressed against.
If he had any idea how hard I was at this moment he'd certainly rethink his position on the daybed and move the fuck away.
"Flirting is good clean fun," Gage explained.
"It can be," I answered, "if both parties are receptive."
"Are you implying you're not?" he asked. "I can sit on the other side of the room if that makes you feel. . . safer."
I shook my head and sighed. He wasn't quite getting what I was saying which meant I had to be more direct. "Have you ever been with a man?" I asked frankly. It was a bold question but I really needed to hear his answer. For all I knew, Gage was a closeted bisexual man who had managed to stay hidden and even Ray had no clue. Every second that ticked by while Gage remained quiet had me thinking I knew what Gage's answer would be.
"Does a bet count?" he asked.
That was not what I expected him to say.
"Do I really want to know what a bet has to do with this?" I asked incredulously.
"You definitely want to know," Gage said and pushed himself up into a sitting position with his back against the brass headboard which made us shoulder to shoulder. "It's actually a seriously funny story."
"Does this story require me to drink more shots to stomach hearing it?" I asked.
"Good point," he said, then turned toward the bedside table and poured us two more shots of whiskey and handed a glass to me while he tossed his back. Against my better judgment, I followed suit.
"Ready?" he asked.
"As I'll ever be."
"This happened quite a few years ago," he began. "I made a stupid bet with the guys in my band that I seriously doubted I'd be able to get hard—and especially get-off—with a guy blowing me for no other reason than because I was straight."
"Annnd?"
"I lost the bet," he said and flashed his million-dollar smile at me.
"A man gave you a blowjob—to orgasm?"
"That he did," Gage admitted with a smile that lit his whole face. He almost sounded proud of himself. "There were two rules to this. First one was I had to unload in the guy's mouth and the second rule was I had to keep my eyes open and watch him get me off. They didn't want me squeezing my eyes shut and fantasizing it was a woman on her knees. My bass player, Kenny, is gay so he volunteered to stay in the room with me to make sure I didn't lie about the blowjob happening or me coming in the guy's mouth. So, I pushed my pants down to my knees and sat on a couch in the back of our tour bus with my limp dick laying out and waited. Finally this guy comes in with Kenny. The dude kneels down in front of me while Kenny leans against the wall next to the couch. The guy starts licking my shaft like it's an ice cream cone and I'm soft as fuck. By the time his mouth reached my tip, though, I was leaking and couldn't deny how good it felt. It only took a few minutes of him sucking on me before I shot off like a rocket. What can I say? The guy had mad oral skills."
"I'm not surprised," I said. The pang of jealousy twisting in my gut was unexpected but I shrugged it off. This conversation was more important than me getting caught up in what Gage did with other partners a long fucking time ago. I needed more information.
"Not surprised I got a blowjob from a dude or that I came down his throat like a fourteen-year-old getting his first blowie?" Gage laughed.
"It's a known fact that men give better blowjobs than a woman could ever hope to," I scoffed.
"Is that so?" Gage asked, his eyes boring into mine and his mouth so damn close I could feel the heat of his breath floating across my flaming cheeks. His eyes became hooded and kept dropping to my mouth like he might close the small space between us and kiss me.
Fuck! I wanted him to do that!
"Gage," I whispered after a few very heated seconds. "It looks like you're about to kiss me."
"I'd be lying if I said the thought hasn't crossed my mind once—or a thousand times," he admitted. "But I'm not sure how to go about it. I mean, if you were a woman I'd sure as hell know what to do. I probably would have already done it by now."
"I'm definitely not a woman," I said and rolled my eyes, "and, if this is a line you want to cross with me, I'm admitting that I'm interested, but you're gonna have to figure it out and make the first move on your own. I can't do it for you but what I can say is don't overthink anything. Just do what you know is going to feel good."
He placed his hand flat over my heart and spread his fingers wide. "Wow, your heart is beating crazy-fast."
"Can you blame me?" I asked, trying to make light of this very heavy and pivotal moment between us. "I have a gorgeous man just about lying on top of me."
"You think I'm gorgeous?" he asked with a grin.
"You own mirrors," I replied with an abundance of snark. "I'm sure you're well aware of how hot you are."
"So, I'm gorgeous and hot. . . "
"Stop it, I'm not inflating your ego any more than it already is," I said. I was about to give him a light-hearted push to create more space between us but ended up grabbing his shoulder and pulling him forward instead.
"You want me closer?" he asked. "I can fix that." He used the muscles in his arms to slide me down almost flat on the daybed and then flung his leg over my thighs, his chest heaved against mine, and his sinful lips hovered just over my mouth. I felt like a hungry bird hoping to be fed.
His fingers left my chest and eased around the side of my neck to cup my nape. His easy touch sent shivers through me and I bit my bottom lip to prevent myself from moaning out loud. Gage ran his thumb along my jawline and made a humming sound.
"I like this," he said softly as he continued to stroke my stubble.
"My scruff?" I asked. "I haven't shaved in a couple of days."
"Yeahhh, I love the prickly friction," Gage said with awe then leaned in and used his teeth to scrap along my whiskered skin before his tongue joined in on the fun. "Don't you dare take a razor to this. Leave it be."
"Gage. . ."
"I love the sounds we create when our jaws rub together," he said and did just that. We scraped together like course sandpaper on wood, making an audible sound that sent erotic ripples through me. "Jezzz-usss, it feels like electricity shooting through my veins."
It sure as hell did. I felt the delicious vibrations skitter through my body as well.
My hips rolled up to meet his of their own volition and I wrapped my arms around his hips to hold him in place. This was heaven and hell in equal measures, and I wasn't one hundred percent sure I'd survive whatever Gage had in mind.
"That's sexy," he whispered beside my ear. His warm breath tickled the shell.
"What is?" I asked.
"You rubbing up into me," he answered. "I can feel your cock and you're seriously fucking hard."
My only reply was a whimper. That's what he'd reduced me to. His lips and tongue traced patterns along my jaw and up to my earlobe and I swear I was about to burst into flames. I could barely stop myself from arching into his touch. It was too much and not nearly enough. I struggled to breathe and think. My brain was a jumble of live wires ready to spark into an inferno. I seriously couldn't take much more.
"Gage." I found my voice and pleaded again, this time saying it a little louder to get his attention.
Finally his mouth popped off my jaw. I missed the heat of his lips and tongue and wanted it back. He didn't move far away, though. He hovered directly above me, his eyes boring into mine and his hot breath repeatedly fanning over my face with every exhale.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked in a gravely tone. "I mean, you consented but if you need me to stop I will."
"Fuck no," I panted, "but you're making me feel completely unhinged. Me pausing is merely to check in with you and make sure you're fully acknowledging the fact that I'm a man and you're—well, delivering some sweet fucking foreplay to another man."
"Mmm, yes. You are definitely all man," he whispered literally against my lips. "I think that's why I'm so turned on."
Hewas turned on? I was about to lose my ever-loving mind from this, and if he didn't kiss me soon my head was going to explode—both heads, to be precise. But I remained patient and allowed Gage to explore my face with his fingertips, lips, and tongue. The ramp up was exquisite torture and I wasn't complaining.
I finally felt the tip of his tongue drag across my bottom lip and I actually allowed myself to moan. I'm not sure if he had reached his limit of waiting or if the sound that rumbled from my dry throat was the tipping point for him, but suddenly his mouth was on mine and he was owning this kiss. There was no hesitation or awkwardness from him. It was like he kissed men all the damn time. I couldn't fully understand it but I sure as hell hoped this didn't mean he'd have a meltdown later after his erection was gone.
His lips were soft but firm, like he knew what he wanted and was fully accepting it. He momentarily lifted off me, shifted closer, then stretched out on top again. Our hard cocks were almost perfectly notched together like puzzle pieces locking into place. His tongue slipped between my lips and grazed mine and that's when my brain shut off being passive. He'd more than crossed the line with me and now I was going to open myself to the pleasure he was offering and reciprocate a little of my own. We ate and lapped at each other's mouths, and I wanted to drown in his taste and heat.
I grabbed his head with both hands and held him against my open mouth. Our tongues were going crazy circling and stroking together to try and blow the other's mind. I'd kissed a lot of men in my life but nothing compared to what Gage was doing to my mouth. I was on fire and simply couldn't get enough of his lips or suck his tongue deep enough into my mouth. After every few strokes of his tongue, he'd nip at my lips and pull the flesh away from my teeth. The sudden spike of pain was quickly soothed by erotic, thorough licks before his tongue would dive back in. I was hot as a flame but shivered in his hold. Goosebumps on my flesh and beading sweat on my forehead were a unique combination that contradicted the other, but I'd never felt more alive.
I craved so much more from him but wasn't sure how far he'd want to go. Part of me actually expected him to wake up suddenly from his lust coma and slam on the brakes when his brain realized he was with a man and he'd jump off me like he was about to catch fire. I latched onto his ass and that's when Gage began grinding down on me. The friction bordered on painful but it still managed to intensify my need for him. I was leaking all over the front of my boxer briefs under my jeans. If we kept this up, I had no doubt I'd have a wet spot on the outside of my pants. Not to mention, I was getting dangerously close to coming. Finally I ripped my mouth away from his and gulped in some much needed air.
I held his face in my hands. His eyes were wild as he sucked in huge breaths of air to get control of himself. It was such a rush knowing it was me who pushed him to the brink of losing his mind like this. After all, lust was a powerful drug for the human body.
"If you keep rubbing on my dick like this I'm going to come in my pants," I admitted.
"It feels so fucking good," he admitted between harsh intakes of air. "I don't want to stop—even if it means I'll have to change my pants later."
I wanted to suggest we get completely naked because skin on skin was so much better than this, but I just couldn't rush Gage like that. Plus, I didn't want to waste time removing our clothes because doing so would mean we'd momentarily have to stop kissing. I wanted a million more hungry, frantic, and passionate kisses from Gage. I wanted him tangled around my body for the next several days to the point I couldn't tell where my body ended and his began. I wanted to be wrapped up with him in bed, on the boat dock, deep in the woods up against a tree, and definitely in the shower. I was so pathetically weak for him. I'd wanted a taste of his mouth almost since the day we met and now that he'd given me that treat, I wanted so much more.
His mouth on mine felt like a beginning of something big but I knew it had to be an end—not a start. There was no way I could or should expect more from Gage. It simply wasn't sustainable. He'd said as much a short time ago when he said he didn't do special. I wanted special, and I deserved to be special to someone, not just a quick, hot fling. My only option was to ride this wave of incredible bliss until we crashed up on the beach like two completely wrung-out and totally spent starfish.
Just one night—maybe two, and then I'll walk away.
Our end date was already likely carved in stone. I wasn't his full-time assistant, as I was at the time I was hired. I was a temporary aide to help him write music and a project like this had an assumed expiration date. When my collaborating duties were completed, I'd be expected to move on—and so would he, and I'd have to be okay with that.
His hips slowly started to rotate in a rhythmic, clockwise motion and I could no longer think beyond my desperate need to get off. There was no more time to overthink what we were doing, and no more time to stop this freight train from barreling toward the station. At this point, I was simply reacting to the pleasure and going on instinct.