Strength In Release (The Charistown Series Book 5) Page 3

  She tried not to stare when Max and Gage did the bro-hug thing.

  “Good to see you, brother,” Max said.

  Damn, that was a whole lot of hotness. She eagerly sipped her drink to prevent drooling when Gage kissed Janie and Ashley on the cheek. But when his sapphire eyes landed on her, she had to remind herself to breathe.

  “Lyla.” His low voice penetrated her clothes, setting fire to skin already primed for a touch it had only ever fantasized about.

  “Gage.” Damn, did that sound breathy? It did. Shit, I need another drink.

  “Ryan, Lyla could use another drink,” Gage called without moving his eyes from hers.

  “Shit, did I say I needed a drink out loud?” With a tendency to speak her thoughts, Lyla was often ready to kick herself—high heels and all.

  Gage’s lush lips curled as his dimples made their presence known. “No, sweetheart. Your glass is empty. I wanted to fill it for you. Ryan, I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks, please. Thanks, man.”

  I’ve got something for you to fill, Lyla thought.

  “Now that you did say out loud.” Divots pressed deeply into each cheek as his smile split across his gorgeous face.

  “Fuck.” Lyla moved to cover her face and stopped. “You know what? This is me, Gage. Take it or leave it.”

  His body moved closer until the distance between them was mere inches. The scents of cedar and leather tickled her nose as his broad, muscled frame blocked everything and everyone else in the bar. As he traced his knuckle down the line of her jaw, tingles erupted over her skin, showing her just how potent a man like Gage could be. His gaze searched hers as if looking for something… confirmation? She wasn’t certain.

  Whatever it was, he must have found it. “I’ll take you. Every part of you. Been waiting for the opportunity, sweetheart. You’re offering you? I’m certainly not gonna leave it.”

  Breath caught in her chest, lungs burning for release, yet for some reason, her body couldn’t remember how to function, let alone breathe. That was, until cold water hit her in the face.

  “Two of you looked like you were about to combust,” Ryan said, holding the soda gun and smiling like a fool. “Didn’t need the threat of another fire, so I figured I’d cool your asses down.”

  “Ryan!” Danny, Max, Julie, Janie and Ashley screamed.

  A sentiment Lyla not only agreed with but felt the need to embellish with her own colorful words. Gage, however, just shook his sexy head, his long black hair damp and tucked behind his ears. Thoughts she couldn’t read but no doubt spelled payback for Ryan ghosted over his face as he handed her a stack of napkins so she could wipe the water from her skin.

  Leaning close, Gage dipped his mouth to Lyla’s ear. “You want to get out of here?”

  “Absolutely.” Lyla grabbed her coat from the back of her stool and slid her arms through the sleeves before hopping down from the stool. Christ, even in her heels, the man was a mountain next to her five-foot-one frame. Having him in her bed would be such a treat.

  Heat seared through her as Gage’s hand made contact with her lower back. Lyla looked toward her friends, who all shared similar looks that said “you go, girl” and “we want details tomorrow,” but it was Gage who stunned her.

  “Hey, Baker?” he said.

  Ryan looked at Gage with amusement on his face.

  “Appreciate the shower.” Gage wiped a drop of water from his temple and smiled. “But payback is a bitch, Baker. Remember that. Night, all.”

  Lyla watched the smile falter on Ryan’s face before the entire group howled with laughter. The last thing she heard before the door closed was Ryan’s challenge to “bring it on.” Which made everyone laugh even harder.

  The January air was frigid in its own right, but with damp clothes and hair, the cold seeped clean into her bones.

  “I was going to suggest taking you for a ride on my bike, but being wet and all, I’m thinking by the time we got to my place, you’d be a Popsicle. I’m thinking your car is a better plan.”

  His place? No way! She didn’t go to a guy’s place, no matter who he was. Sex happened under her roof, under her control. End of story. Maybe she owed Ryan a thank you instead of a penis punch the next time she saw him.

  “My car is right here and my place is, like, three blocks away. How about we go there?” she suggested, hoping her voice sounded bold and inviting instead of desperate and panicked.

  Stopping midstride, Gage placed his large finger under her chin and lifted it until their eyes met. The glow of the parking lot lighting gave his features an ethereal look. “I’ll go wherever you take me.”

  Damn, but this man was perfection. Getting him beneath her was bound to be mind-blowing. Maybe she would finally be able to get him out of her system and move on with her life.

  ***

  THE MINUTES FELT like hours as Sebastian sat folded in Lyla’s BMW. The tiny car wasn’t made for a man his size. The only consolation was her scent—something he’d noticed varied slightly with the seasons—permeated the car’s interior. Cookies, he thought, inhaling deeply. How one woman could scream sexy and whisper comfort at the same time was beyond him, yet Lyla Dalton seemed to do it not only with ease but with ignorance.

  She was gorgeous. Her hair fell like a curtain of silk over her shoulders, where the dampened ends clung to breasts—wet fabric on a cold night had her nipples drawn into tight buds that he fantasized about sucking on. After all this time, he’d finally have her body under his. Her soft to his hard… fuck, he couldn’t wait. The damn ride took forever.

  Even the ease with which Lyla pulled into her garage felt like foreplay—a confident glide into the open space before her long slender fingers pressed the button to lower the door. For months he had been guarding her house like a watch dog, not allowing anything or anyone to harm her, including Lyla herself. But as they walked from the garage into her house, something inside him shifted. It was the first time he had been inside her home, surrounded by her things. And as her scent washed over him, the beast inside him finally broke free.

  Yanking her close, threading his hand through her hair, Gage crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that felt primal, possessive. Their bodies collided, leaving no space between them, as her heart beat into his chest. Gripping her ass in his large palms and lifting her up, he groaned when she slid her legs around his torso, pressing her heat against him.

  “Fuck, the things I want to do to you,” he said into her ear before swiping his tongue from her lobe down her neck, reveling in the goose bumps that lifted on her skin. “Take me to your bedroom, sweetheart.”

  The sigh that left her lips made his cock press painfully against his zipper. No doubt she felt his erection. Good, because he’d never before wanted a woman the way he wanted Lyla, and even though things weren’t sorted in the way he needed them to be, nothing could stop him from finally claiming the woman who had claimed him nearly two years before.

  Lyla’s crystal-blue eyes raked his body hungrily when they entered her bedroom, her legs still wrapped around him. The way she licked her lips had his dick practically singing.

  “Take off your clothes, Gage. I can’t wait to get my hands on you.” Her command was a thing of beauty, filled with confidence and ease. He stood frozen as she unhitched herself from his body, stripped off her top and dropped it to the floor, her bold gaze not once leaving his. “What are you waiting for? Strip, handsome, and lay down so I can cuff you.”

  “What?” His gaze cut to the metal links hanging from her headboard. “Yeah, right.” He chuckled, dismissing the cuffs as he grabbed the collar of his shirt at the back of his neck yanking it off before touching her smooth skin. He reveled in the way she perused his naked torso.

  Then, as if she realized what she was doing, she side-stepped his touch. “I’m not joking. The only way this is gonna happen between us is if you let me bind you, wrists and ankles.”

  ***

  EYES THAT HAD been liquid sapphire only seconds before hardened
as Gage looked from her to the bed and back. “That ain’t gonna happen, sweetheart.”

  Her heightened arousal made her words irritated before her brain had time to filter them. “Yes, it is. Just use the cuffs and we’ll both get what we want.”

  Gage’s brows arched. “I want you. In that bed. Beneath me. My hands on your body. No cuffs, no restraints.”

  “What the hell? None of the other men I’ve fucked have had an issue with it. In fact”—she stepped closer with hopes of driving him lust-crazed—“they’ve all walked away extremely satisfied with very little effort on their part.”

  His face turned to stone as he traced her cheek with his fingertip. “Then maybe you should be bringing chicks home to fuck since apparently all you want in your bed is pussy.”

  “Fuck you, Gage.” Anger whipped through her as the truth of his words hit dead center in her chest.

  “That’s exactly what I was trying to do,” he said, tugging his hand through his long hair.

  Speechless. It wasn’t often that happened, but Lyla stood there gaping.

  Gage took the empty air as an opportunity to keep talking. “I’m thrilled the other dudes you fucked had no balls, ‘cause it put you here with me now, but there’s no fucking way I’m letting you put steel around my wrists while I’m in bed with you. You got kinks? I’ll play. I’ll fulfill every fucking fantasy you’ve ever had. But”—he pointed toward the cuffs—“that shit isn’t about fantasy, and you know it. That’s about trust. You can goddamn trust that I will never hurt you. Not ever.”

  Every cell in her body shook as his words penetrated her. No, there was no trust, not in her world. Not ever. “Trust goes both ways, Gage. Wear the cuffs or leave.”

  His arctic glare met hers. Unspoken words floated between them as he swept his shirt off the bed and covered his beautiful broad, inked chest and left her room.

  No way. There’s no way he’s actually going to leave. She followed him down the stairs to the front door. His stride was slow, almost intentionally so. As if he was reconsidering or waiting for her stop him. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.

  “I won’t beg you to stay.” But her tone was desperate. “If you walk out that door, our chance is gone.”

  He paused, his back to her, his hand on the doorknob. A knot in her stomach formed as she felt her words land on their target.

  As he turned to face her, a myriad of emotions played across Gage’s beautiful face. “I saw the cuffs, sweetheart. You never had any intention of giving me a chance.”

  Before she could respond, the door closed, leaving Lyla standing in a house of silence.

  Chapter Five

  Someone Else’s Story

  SEBASTIAN KNOCKED ON the freshly painted door before entering the house in which he’d grown up. His grandmother hated when he acted like a visitor in his own home, but he hadn’t lived there in decades, so knocking felt right.

  “Hey there, good lookin’, how are you doing today?” Wendy, his grandmother’s round-the-clock nurse, gave him a warm smile as she drifted through the living room.

  He followed her into the kitchen. “Good, and yourself?”

  Wendy had been with the Gage family for years. Sebastian’s grandfather, Peter, hired her as an extra set of hands when Gram, Florence, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Little did they know Peter would succumb to a heart attack within that same year, leaving Wendy as Florence’s primary caretaker.

  “Right as rain, sugar. Florence had a tough night. The doctor will be stopping by later today to look in on her. Hopefully up her pain meds.” Wendy’s eyes expressed the deep concern her voice never belied. “Go on back and see her, sugar. The cook will be starting lunch in a few minutes, and your visit will allow me the time to freshen up.”

  “You got it.” Sebastian pivoted to leave the kitchen and stopped, turning back to face the nurse. “Wend, thanks for everything you do—”

  “Oh, stop it. I get paid extraordinarily well for my time,” the nurse said with a casual wave.

  “You and I both know that money only buys time. It doesn’t buy the devotion you’ve given to Gram and me for the past four years.”

  Discomfort was evident in the nurse’s straightened spine. “Sebastian Gage, if I had a dollar for every time you thanked me, I wouldn’t need to draw a salary for this job at all. I love your grandmother, and for the short time I knew Peter, I adored him too. If everyone had a grandchild like you, the world would be a better place. Now stop with the gratitude and go visit Flor. I need to get some stuff done before you skedaddle back to work.”

  “Jeez, and people call me stubborn. Damn woman can’t take a compliment.” He chuckled as he headed down the long hallway of the huge ranch-style home.

  “I heard that,” Wendy’s voice chimed.

  “You were meant too.”

  The nurse’s laugh brought a smile to Sebastian’s bone-tired body.

  SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the master bedroom, just like Florence Gage insisted it did throughout her entire house, bringing in its warmth and eternal positivity. No matter what happens in life, dear boy, the sun will eventually return; bask in its glow when it’s out and remember its warmth when it’s not.

  His grandmother’s loving words were the soundtrack of Sebastian’s childhood. A childhood that had more than its fair share of cloudy days and stormy nights. Yet no matter how frustrated or downright angry he got with everything and everyone, his grandmother was the tenacious, foul-mouthed powerhouse who kept him level, set him straight, and loved him unconditionally even when she didn’t approve of the path he chose.

  How could that woman be the frail, withered, still-bodied person sleeping in the hospital bed in front of him? Now that the pancreatic cancer had metastasized through most of her body, it was only a matter of time before she would no longer be with him. And that… no, it was too painful to process.

  Sebastian didn’t remember his father, a police officer, who had died when Sebastian was two years old. But according to local tales and Sebastian’s research, Steven Gage had been a remarkable man with a heart of gold. Yep, Florence and Peter raised good boys. It seemed as if their only flaw was an inability to teach their boys to find good women.

  While he and his grandparents had never discussed the topic of his father, almost as if it were taboo, Sebastian had done some digging to learn his parents’ story. It started when his dad pulled his mother over for a DUI. Charistown gossip said Steven Gage fell in love at first sight. Carla Shepard, a Charistown transplant, took a little longer. Apparently a cop’s salary wasn’t quite what she was looking for, but when she found out the officer was the heir to the Gage fortune… dollar signs morphed into hearts. Within months of meeting, the couple was married, and the following year, Sebastian Ian Gage was born.

  By the time Sebastian was six years old, his life was irrevocably changed, forever altered with both of his parents gone—one taken too young and one who decided parenthood wasn’t worth the effort.

  Sebastian had grown up in his grandparents’ house, surrounded by their love and devotion yet always awaiting her return. Her demands. Her threats. She always came back. That was the one thing his mother never failed to do. If only she would.

  “Do you intend to stand there and brood at me all day, or are you gonna get your ass over here and give me some sugar?”

  “Gram, I thought you were asleep. I know how you feel about your beauty rest. I didn’t want to bear your wrath by disturbing it,” Gage teased, forcing the pain of his grandmother’s failing health as deep down as he could push it.

  Florence’s lips curved into a brittle smile. “Honey, I’m as beautiful as I’m gonna get. At this point, when you come to visit, wake me up. We’ve got more things to discuss than time left to discuss them. Understand?”

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sebastian nodded. “Understood.”

  Florence fingered the control on the side of her bed, raising herself to a reclined position. The pain the simple move caused he
r was disheartening. Without thought, he moved to assist her but stopped immediately when her stubborn gaze pierced his own.

  “Until I physically can’t do it on my own, Bastian…” Her exhale was shallow and labored. “I’m a strong woman… I used to be. My body can’t do what I want it to, and my brain is pissed about it. So until this cancer spreads to my brain or my body finally gives out, let me be strong. Okay? I’ll deal with the pain for now—tells me I’m still alive—and when it gets too bad, the meds are good enough.”

  He never could deny his grandmother anything, and even though her pain gutted him, he wouldn’t start now. Instead, he sat in the chair by her bed and waited for her to settle in.

  “Enough about me,” Florence finally said. “What’s going on with you?”

  Ah, comfortable ground. “We booked three major racing events for next calendar year at the track and four for the year after. Winston Track is also sponsoring two youth soccer teams and a youth International Spelling Bee team. The garage is busier than ever. Having Max with me full time has managed to nearly double our output. Christ, if Pop could see this place, he’d be proud.”

  “There was never a day your grandfather wasn’t proud of you, Bastian. Not one day.”

  Sebastian doubted the validity of her statement. After all, his actions after his break-up with Angie had cost his grandparents quite a bit of money in damage control and lost business. His inability to contain the hurt and anger at the betrayal caused by Carla and Angie led to the hospitalization of an innocent man and the near ruin of a local restaurant.

  “Hey, look at me. Where did you go just now? You know what? Don’t bother answering; I know where your mind went, honey. And yes, even then, we understood where you were coming from and supported you. Could you have been kinder with her? Maybe, but I’m not sure anyone in your circumstance would have been. And you’ve already paid your penance for the restaurant you trashed and the guy you hurt. Forgive yourself and move on.”

  Move on. Yeah, great advice. Except there was no way he could move on with Carla still lurking around and threatening to poison his life. Maybe it was for the best that things had gone south with Lyla. Fuck, just thinking her name tore a hole through him. Even if he had finally had her, sunk deep into her and claimed her body while finding ways to capture her heart, his mother would have no doubt found a way to taint her, threaten her, or ruin her until there was nothing but ash left where her beauty once was. Yes, it was better that they never were. At least he could keep an eye on Lyla from a distance.