His eyes flash again, with anger this time. "Sounds like it's what you want."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I don't want to leave." God, I'm such an asshole. I'm such a wreck.

"What the hell do you want me to say then?" He should be turning away from me. He should be throwing me out.

But he's not. Yet.

"I just...I think honesty's important."

Disbelief stamps itself across his face. "You, the girl who refuses to talk about anything that actually means something?"

"That's not fair." But it is. He deserves so much more than this. I should leave. I should walk out the door he's no longer pointing to.

I can't.

"You think I don't feel you pulling away all the fucking time?" His hands are clenched at his sides. "You think I don't get it, Cassidy?"

"Why aren't you telling me to leave? Tell me to leave." I'm almost begging. If he pushes me out, I'll go, but I don't have the willpower to do it on my own.

"Why aren't you walking away?" he counters.

"I can't." The words shake as they leave my mouth.

"Neither can I."

"I don't...I don't know what to do," I admit, wanting so badly to drop my eyes, but I'm trapped in the intensity of his stare. In the intensity of the relief under my skin that he's not telling me to leave. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not a fan of jealousy, Cassidy, but fuck, I don't want to share you." A muscle in his jaw clenches, before he continues. "Who was it?"

I open my mouth, dreading the name I have to say, but he shakes his head and speaks before I can. "Actually, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"I'm sorry," I repeat, not sure what else to say-but beyond thankful I don't have to tell him it was Luca. Then I give him something honest that finally doesn't make me want to rip my own heart out. "There's nowhere else I want to be right now."

"Okay."

I wait for him to go on, but he just stares at me, letting the silence stretch until I can't take it. "Gage. I don't think I can give you what you want, but I don't want to leave."

"I don't know if that's enough for me." Now it's his truth that nearly undoes me.

"Can we just try, for tonight?" My words come out shaky again, and when he doesn't answer, I'm afraid I might have to beg.

I need his arms around me. I need his mouth on mine.

I cross the distance between us, and I kiss him. Forceful, and urgent, I use my lips to beg him to let me stay.

And after a moment of hesitation, he uses his hands to tell me I can.

He shoves them under the front of my shirt, dragging them up along my ribs, cupping my breasts with a less-than-gentle hold that I immediately push myself harder into. He's very angry. And I'm very turned on.

He pulls back to watch my face-and sends his hands lower, dipping below the waist of my jeans. He unhooks the button with a tug rough enough to make my breath catch and then shoves them over my hips, past my knees, to the floor. I trace my lips along his jaw and down his neck, taking in the clean, minty scent lingering there. It invigorates my senses, makes me feel alive. Excited. Reckless. I'm not leaving.

He wants me here.

I want to be here.

And, right now, that's all I need to know.

I tear my shirt over my head, and then his, too. I push him toward his bed, and when he falls back against it, he drags me with him and twists us so that I'm the one who lands on the covers. Hard enough that a bit of the wind is knocked from my lungs and he gives me no quarter to catch it again, taking my mouth captive, gnawing at my lower lip, thrusting his tongue against mine.

Angry Gage is rough.

Angry Gage makes me freaking hot.

His mouth storms down my body, biting, licking, snapping at my stomach in the most electrifying way. My skin sizzles every place he touches me, until I'm desperate for him. My hips are rocking, bucking, by the time his tongue's trailing across the waistline of my panties.

But he stops, resting his chin on my abdomen, looking at me. "Push up on your elbows."

My toes are curling, my breath quaking, and it's hard for me to move at all with the way I'm wanting him. But I do as he demands.

"I want you to watch." He lifts himself over me and drags my panties down, over my thighs, shoving them past my knees. "I'm going to show you, sweetheart, what you'll miss if you walk away." He licks a long, slow line across the crease where my thigh meets my hip, his eyes never leaving my face. "Do you understand?"

I can barely make out his words right now-much less derive any meaning from them. I'm too alive, too overpowered by the wild energy he's rousing under my skin. But I nod because I know it's what he's waiting for.

"Good girl." He slides his hands under my knees and lifts them over his shoulders.

Pausing, just there.

And I can't catch my breath, can't look away, can't stop the flood of nerves tingling so hard between my thighs it's almost painful. I'm so exposed and his mouth is so close I can feel the disturbance in the air between us, his breath as it hits my skin. My hips are rolling slightly this way and that, toward him and away, craving.

And then he buries his face in me.

He uses his tongue to punish me and I've never wanted to be so bad if this is the sort of torture I get in reward.

He drags his mouth away for the briefest of seconds, lifting his eyes to my face, making sure I'm still watching. "Jesus, Cassidy." His breath washes over my tender skin, and I tremble so hard my own breath shakes. "You taste like honey. I could eat you for hours."

Oh my God, I would let him. But it takes so much less time than that before he does exactly what he's set out to do, and I lose myself against his mouth. Gasping, moaning, yanking at his sheets when I come.

After, I'm breathless and throbbing, and I could lay here for hours, enjoying the sensations shooting through me. But again, he gives me no clemency, instead sliding back up my body and taking my mouth with his own. I taste myself on his tongue, and when he pulls back I see in his eyes that he wanted me to. That it turns him on.

It turns me on, too.

He's rock solid, pressing against me through the thin fabric of his pajamas. He twists away to grab a condom from his nightstand. I jerk his pants down over his hips, and this time I'm the one who slides the rubber on, slowly, wickedly, watching his control unravel.

"Take me however you want me," I whisper, hoping he'll continue this perfect punishment on my body.

He grabs my wrists, holding them above my head. He pauses, his mouth at my ear. "It will be my name," he growls, "in your mouth." He bites my earlobe, hard enough that it stings. Hard enough to send a shiver racing through me. "In your mind." He shoves his leg between my thighs, spreading them farther apart and then positioning himself there, touching but not entering. "In your heart."

"Please, Gage." I can't ever seem to stop myself from pleading with him, but I might die if he doesn't take me this instant. My body is trembling everywhere, everywhere. How he manages to build me up this fast all over again, I may never know, but he does. I'm ready. Craving. Needing.

He drives into me, hitting the places where I still quiver from his last delicious assault. When I tighten around him, he starts to lose it as fast as I already have, and I grin at the strain in his expression.

And then there's no mercy and he makes everything he's just promised come true.

His name is in my mouth, and in my mind, and in my heart.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

I wake up on the edge of Gage's bed feeling bruised and used and utterly, completely sated.

And, okay, still guilty. But it's easier to shove that feeling aside to focus on the others. Last night was intense. It was perfect. I lost my mind, lost control, lost sense of everything except the sensations Gage sent racing through me.

"Good morning." I roll over to snuggle into him, but I'm alone.

Stretching, I stand and let the covers fall away from me. The scent of coffee wafts through the closed bedroom door. Perfect way to start the morning. He's making us coffee. Maybe...maybe last night something changed. Maybe we understand better now the way things are between us.

Maybe that's just wishful thinking.

But maybe I'm going with it anyway.

I glance at my outfit from yesterday, discarded and crumpled on the floor, but his roommate's out of town and I decide to be ballsy and search for him without bothering to slip into anything at all. It's not like he hasn't explored almost every inch of my body with his eyes-and his tongue. And the way he made me watch last night... Jesus, that was hot.

And now I'm turned on all over again.

Gage's room opens into a hallway, which leads toward the main living area. My stomach rumbles and I press a hand against it to quiet the noise. I'm going for sexy here. Get a grip, stomach.

"Hey, baby," I say from around the corner-immediately cringing. I've never called him that. I'm not really sure it's appropriate with the way things stand. But oh, well. Too late now. Gonna have to go with it. So I square my shoulders, take a deep breath. My lips curve into as seductive a smile as I can manage, and I step around the corner.

And come face-to-face with Gage's fifteen-year-old sister.

It's a total deer-in-headlights situation.

She sits there, frozen, with a cup of coffee halfway to her mouth.

I cover myself the best I can. And also? I want to die. Immediately. But I can't seem to move. I can't even think. Shock's turned my muscles to stone.

The corner of her mouth pulls a little wider to the side and a giggle slips out. The sound frees me and with one final panicked glance at the amusement across her face, I flee back to Gage's room.

Oh, God.

There are no words. None.

Mortification makes a punching bag of me, and I fling myself face-first into Gage's bed. Is it possible to smother yourself with pillows? Because I'm tempted to try. I'm so, unbelievably tempted.

A minute later, though, I put on my wrinkled clothing from last night and pull on my big girl pants. Katy's probably even more mortified than I am. I'm the adult here. Kind of, at least. I should go back out and introduce myself.

First, though, I have to figure out how to cool the flames under the skin of my face.

Five agonizing minutes later, I realize there's nothing I can do about them. I force myself out the door and back down the hall and toward the kitchen. I stop before rounding the corner for one last moment to cringe. Okay. I can do this.

I mean...if I could tell Gage about the kiss last night, this should be a breeze, right?

Great. There's the guilt again. On top of all the embarrassment.

I'm a freaking mess.

Guess there's no time like the present to deal with it all. I step around the corner.

Katy's still sitting at the table, cup of coffee in front of her. She meets my eyes and her face, I see, is not red at all. In fact, she looks like she's trying not to laugh, and barely covers it with a derisive little smile. "That must have really been embarrassing for you."

"Uh..." This was not how I expected her to react. "I won't lie, kid. It wasn't the most comfortable moment of my life."

"I'm not a kid." She shoves her messy brown hair into a messier ponytail. She looks cute-and somehow grown-up at the same time.

"No, you're Katy." I smile at her, but feel my lips droop when she stares disinterestedly back at me. "I'm Cassidy... Your brother's spoken highly of you."

"Of course he has." She takes a sip of coffee and can't quite hide the bitter pucker of her mouth.

It's my turn to bite back a laugh, but I try to do it more kindly than she did. "Did you try adding cream and sugar?"

"I drink it black." She huffs, clearly insulted that I'd assume anything else.

"I see." I'm actually pretty sure this is her first ever cup of coffee. I pour a cup for myself, after finding a worn old mug in one of Gage's cabinets. Then I search for sugar and add some milk. I close my eyes and exaggerate how much I enjoy the first sip. "God, this is so good."

"Is that what you told my brother last night?"

I almost spit out my drink. "Excuse me?"