Bound, Branded, & Brazen
Page 17

If it had been possible for her to lean farther into the wall, she would have. “That would be refreshing.”
He laid his palm next to her head, wanting so damn bad to press his body against hers, to feel her lush body, to tuck his head against her neck so he could inhale her fragrance. But he didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for. This filly was skittish. He wanted to give her a taste of what she could have, but it was up to her to ask for it, to tell him she wanted what he intended to offer her. And he wanted her coming into it with her eyes wide open.
“I’ll tell you right now I like you. I want to get to know you better. But I’m not looking for a relationship or romance. I’m a drifter, Brea. I move from one place to another, so I’ll let you know up front that while I’m attracted to you, I’m not boyfriend or husband material.”
“I see.”
“I want to kiss you, touch you all over. I’d like to get you na**d, lick every inch of your body and make you come in ways you could never imagine.”
Her big brown eyes widened. “Oh, my.”
“Does that scare you?”
“No. That’s . . . really honest.” But he saw her throat work as she fought to swallow. Yeah, she was scared all right.
“I’m gonna kiss you now, Brea. Okay?”
She gave a shaky nod. “Okay.”
He moved in, pressed his body flush against hers. Damn, that felt nice. She was all firm, lush curves, and he couldn’t resist touching her. But like a wild horse, she was jumpy and flinched at the first touch of his hand against the bare skin of her shoulder.
“Easy, honey.” He kept his hand there, then let it slide slow and easy down her arm. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
He smiled down at her. “Bullshit. I terrify you.”
Her lips lifted. “Maybe a little.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to kiss you.” Holding only her wrist with his fingers, he leaned in and brushed his mouth against hers, a slow slide of lips against lips, breathing in her breath. Oh, man, she tasted sweet, her lips so soft he wanted to press in and go deeper. But he didn’t, just took it slow and easy, letting her get used to having him close to her, his mouth against hers, until she sighed and relaxed. Then he moved in, slid an arm around her waist and tugged her against him, again nice and easy, not with the violent passion he had to work hard to restrain.
He wanted this woman, wanted her bad, wanted to bury his straining, hard c**k inside her. Hell, he wanted to do a lot of things with her, including get her na**d and spread-eagled on his bed so he could touch and kiss her all over. He wanted the sweet mouth she kissed him with wrapped around his throbbing dick. But none of that was going to happen tonight, not when she was still wary, so he was just going to have to tamp down his needs and see to hers.
So he let her get used to the feel of his mouth on hers. Light kisses, with just the touch of his tongue against the seam of her lips. And maybe he did press his body against hers, and maybe she could feel his erection—after all, he was only wearing a towel, and he couldn’t mask his hard-on—but he wanted her to know how she made him feel. And when she moaned and unglued herself from the wall to align her body with his and laid her hands on his shoulders, he took that as a positive sign.
So he did have to rein in his baser impulses, like ripping off his towel, then her clothes, and burying his c**k inside her. There was plenty of time for that later. With Brea he’d have to take baby steps. While he didn’t know everything about her, he could tell she had a decided lack of experience, and he didn’t want to overpower her. So he settled for a few kisses, lightly holding her, and gritting his teeth against his overwhelming urges. He wanted her to feel in control, like she could take a step back at any time and just walk away and catch her breath.
Only she wasn’t stepping back. She wasn’t walking away. She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck, deepened the kiss and slid her thigh between his legs, pressing her jean-clad pu**y against him. And she made sounds that would drive a sane man crazy.
Gage had all kinds of control, but he was still a man. A damn near na**d man with throbbing balls and a moaning, sexy woman in his arms kissing him like she wanted him. He liked her eager, but he was afraid his careful control was going to shatter in the next few seconds if he wasn’t the one to take a step back and run like hell.
He broke the kiss, sucked in a breath of air and extricated himself from her arms around his neck. He smiled down at her and kissed her fingers. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”
Her eyes were glassy, her lips puffy from their kisses. She had a hazy smile that gradually receded as she frowned in confusion. “What? You’re stopping? Why?”
He took a careful step back, hoping like hell his towel would stay attached to his hips. “Because I want you to think about what you really want.”
She moved forward again. “I know what I want. I want you.”
Now his lips curled. “A minute ago you said I terrified you.”
She shook her head. “Now you don’t. I’m fine, really.”
He folded her hands over each other, then took another step back, creating distance between them. Whether it was for her or him he wasn’t sure. “Think about it, Brea. Make sure you know exactly what you want before you decide it’s me.”
She heaved a shaky sigh. “Fine.” She moved to push past him. She was hurt and angry. He didn’t want her to misunderstand, so he grabbed her wrist, jerked her against him.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
She tilted her head back. “I don’t think I got the wrong idea at all. I think you made yourself perfectly clear.”
“No. I don’t think I did. I was patient with you tonight, Brea. I held back. This is what I want you to make sure you’re ready for.” He fisted his hand in her hair, brought his lips to hers and gave her what he’d wanted to give her all night—a real kiss. She gasped as he parted her lips with his and drove his tongue inside her mouth. He claimed her mouth with demand, with possession, with the understanding that if she came to him again, she’d be his for the taking. He wound his tongue around hers, then sucked, crushing his lips against hers, pushing her back against the wall and letting her feel him—all of him—until there was no mistaking exactly what he wanted. And when he’d pushed her—and himself—to the brink, he let go.
Brea’s eyes shot open.
“If that’s what you want, if that’s what you can handle, then you let me know.”
She still hadn’t moved; she stared at him in shock and confusion. It took all the willpower he had to stay away from her.
“Good night, Brea.”
He turned and walked back into the bathroom, his c**k hard, his body on fire for her. The kiss had shaken him more than any other woman had before. She might not be experienced, but she banked a fire that, once stoked, would burn out of control.
He wanted to be the one to light that fire, stoke its embers and watch it rage.
three
brea hadn’t slept all night, had spent most of it in her room pacing and touching her lips. They still burned with the power of Gage’s kiss. Almost twenty-four hours later, she could still smell him on her, could still feel his arms around her, the strength of his body against her. She wrapped her arms around herself, so lost in her own thoughts she wasn’t sure what time it was. She’d spent most of the day hiding up in her room—thinking.
He’d been right about her. If she’d jumped into bed with him last night, she’d have been terrified, especially after finding out he’d taken it slow and easy with her.
But that last kiss, the way he’d jerked her hair and held her tight and shown her who was in control . . . that had been anything but slow and easy. It had been fire and passion and everything she had imagined a kiss could be—should be—between a man and a woman. It was her every fantasy.
She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms, shuddering at the awesome power of the man. Could she handle that? She’d seen the control he exhibited with the horses since she’d been at the Bar M, had an inkling that Gage was a man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. She’d guessed that he was someone who liked to be in charge.
But she really had no idea what she was getting into, did she?
Or maybe she did. Maybe she’d gravitated toward Gage because he was exactly what she’d been looking for all along. Maybe he was what she needed, what she craved.
And maybe that’s what the problem had been with the guys she’d been with before—with the sex she’d had before. It had been dull, boring, unfulfilling. There’d been no passion, at least not on her side of things. She’d always thought it was her fault, that she’d done something wrong.
But after last night, after the way she had responded to Gage . . . now she wasn’t so sure.
Had it taken her this long to figure out the problem was she’d been with the wrong type of men?
A knock at her bedroom door roused her from overthinking the hell out of the past ten years of her life.
“It’s open.”
Valerie and Jolene came in and closed the door behind them, then made themselves comfortable on her bed.
“You’re obviously not sick, because you’re not in bed,” Valerie observed.
Brea nodded from her spot on the cushioned windowsill, her favorite reading—and thinking—spot. “Obviously.”
“So why have you spent the entire day holed up here? It’s creepy, even for you, Brea,” Jolene said.
She shrugged. “I’ve had some thinking to do.”
“Thinking? Or reenacting your hot night with Gage?” Jolene laced her hands together behind her head and crossed her ankles.
Brea’s spine straightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please. Everyone knows the only two people left behind on the ranch last night—besides Lila, who we all know goes to bed early—were you and Gage. Coincidence? I think not.”
She refused to dignify Jolene’s suspicions with an answer.
“Really?” Valerie leaned forward. “So what happened with you and Gage last night?”
The fact that Valerie was asking—and seemed surprised—meant Jolene hadn’t been blabbing all about it to everyone.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You aren’t denying it. So something did happen between you.”
Brea glared at Jolene. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Come on, Brea, tell us about it.”
Maybe she should. She was confused about what had happened with Gage. And she had no one else to talk to. Yet she wasn’t sure how to talk to her sisters about what she felt, what she wanted. What if they judged her?
“Brea, you know you can tell us anything,” Valerie said. “And it will never go further than this room.”
“He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” Jolene asked. Her brows knit in a tight frown. “If he hurt you at all, he’s history. He’s fired. No, first I’ll kick his ass. Then I’ll boot him off the ranch.”
Brea swung her legs off the window seat, worried now that Jolene would jump to conclusions. “No, he didn’t hurt me at all, Jo. He was every inch the gentleman last night.” Okay, maybe not a gentleman, but that’s not what she wanted, anyway.
Jolene settled back against the pillows. “All right. Then maybe you should tell us what happened between you two.”
“I saw a light up at the bunkhouse, thought it was Grizz since he often stays behind. I ran into Gage. We . . . talked.”
“Talked,” Valerie said. “That’s it? You just talked?”
“Is ‘talked’ a code word for sex?”
Brea rolled her eyes at Jo. “No. We didn’t have sex. We just talked.”
Jolene crossed her arms. “Somehow I don’t think you spent the day up here because you and Gage spent time in conversation. Spill it, Brea.”
“Okay, we kissed a time or two.”
“And that’s it?” Jolene threw up her hands. “You have to hide in your room all day and night because he kissed you? Jesus Christ. Here I thought he’d thrown you down on the floor and f**ked your brains out, and all he did was kiss you?”
“Jo, quit being such an ass,” Valerie said before turning her attention back to Brea. “Somehow I don’t think it was just a kiss. There’s more, isn’t there?”
Brea nodded.
“What is it?”
“I think he might be more than I can handle.”
Jo frowned again. “In what way?”
Brea shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I just think if he and I . . . get together . . . I might be in over my head.”
“I don’t understand, Brea,” Valerie said, her tone much less accusatory and suspicious than Jolene’s.
Brea blew out a breath. “I’m not sure how to word this. I think I might want what he’s got to offer, but I’m not sure. It kind of scares me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jolene said.
“I think I do.” Valerie stood and pulled the desk chair over to the window seat, sat and held Brea’s hands. “You mean Gage is very aggressive, sexually.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And you don’t want that.”
“No. I mean yes, I think I do want that. It’s just that the guys I’ve been with before—haven’t been like that.”