Chasing I Do (The Eastons #1) (17 page)

“Thank me? Pink, this was all you. Sure, part of Lana’s original interest was because of the high-profile wedding. But the cover, that was all you.”

And he couldn’t be prouder.

“Not just for the help with the magazine and this wedding, but for being you,” she said. “For being the kind of man to drive all the way out here in the middle of the night to tell me something you could have done over the phone.”

“It’s only twenty minutes.” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “And I wanted to see your smile.”

“It wasn’t just twenty minutes. You wanted a kiss,” she teased, but he could hear the emotion in her voice.

“That too.” He gave her another one.

“But to me, it means that I had someone to share this with.” Darcy looked down to collect herself, and when she met his gaze again, her heart was there. Raw and unfiltered. “Being a single mom is one of the most amazing things I have ever done, but sometimes it gets overwhelming riding out the highs and lows on my own. I wouldn’t trade in a second of it, but there are times I question if I’m making the right decisions. I didn’t have the best role model when it came to being a responsible parent, so it’s a struggle for me to be in it alone, wondering how my choices will affect Kylie’s happiness. Her wellbeing.”

“You, Darcy Kincaid, are an amazing mom. You’ve done an incredible job with Kylie, and with this wedding. Which is why,” he took her hand, “I snagged some champagne from the bar earlier. It’s on your porch and probably warm by now, but I thought we could have a little toast. To celebrate.”

She looked back at the main house, then bit her lower lip in a move that was all seduction. “When I saw you sitting on the porch, I asked the bartender to leave one chilling in the kitchen. Just in case.”

He tugged her against him. “Just in case?”

She nodded, looking up at him through her lashes. “There’s cake too. Just in case you were ready to cash in that raincheck.”

“Cake always tastes better when shared.”

Chapter 10

“Second thoughts?”

Gage looked up at Darcy with her hair tumbling down her back, her bare legs dangling from the counter, and shrugged. “I might need one more taste. To be sure.”

Only instead of forking off a piece of cake, he opened his mouth and waited. Darcy rolled her eyes, but offered him a bite. Meeting her gaze, he waited for the fork to slide in and felt his mouth sigh at the explosion of creamy textures and exotic flavors.

It paired perfectly with the champagne—and the company.

“That’s the vanilla bean cake with mango mousse frosting. It’s the one Jillian and I picked for Stephanie and Rhett. Stephanie wanted a mango martini for their signature cocktail, so I think they will really like it.”

“They will love it.”

“What do you think?” she asked, smiling up at him, and man, she was gorgeous. Heart in her eyes, a little bit of frosting on her lower lip, so unbelievably gorgeous it was hard not to stare.

“I think—” he said stepping between her legs and resting his palms on the counter “—that I need another taste.”

“What are you doing?” she asked when he didn’t reach for the fork, but instead slid a hand around the nape of her neck.

“Picking my favorite.” He gently nipped her lower lip, drinking down the sweetness of the frosting, and taking his time to savor the hint of champagne that still lingered. “But, Pink, I think I’m going to need a few more tastes.”

“Because you’re not sure it’s your favorite yet?”

“Oh, I know what I want. I even know how I want it. I’m still deciding if I want extra frosting or not.”

Darcy’s arms slid around his neck, but those legs. Fuck, those mile-long legs wrapped around him, locking behind his back, and putting all of his good parts in full contact with hers. “Why don’t you try it this way first, and we can add some frosting later if you want.”

With a moan, Gage looked her dead in the eye. “Are you sure?”

He hoped to hell she said yes, because even though he was okay with calling it a night at the cake, if that was what she wanted, the walk to the car would be damn uncomfortable.

But Gage must have been the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet, because Darcy squeezed her legs, so impossibly tight that he could feel her heat press hard against his zipper, making his eyes roll to the back of his head, and everything else go rock solid. “So sure I can already feel it building.”

Gage had come here to celebrate Darcy, and since he wasn’t about to miss out on a single fucking second of her night, he
lowered his head and took her mouth without warning.

That kiss packed more punch than a nuclear power plant. It was one of those long-and-languid, gotta-make-it-count, I’ve-got-all-night-baby kind of kisses that a man gave a woman when he wanted to make it clear just how much tasting was about to go on.

This wasn’t a casual tasting, or even a see-how-it-feels-tomorrow one. Oh, no, this was a tasting that was going to last with her straight through next year. And, if he played his cards right, it would last until she forgot about his family, and their past, and couldn’t imagine making any more memories without him.

Because tonight wasn’t about closure, or atoning for the past. Tonight was about their time, finally taking hold of what was in front of them, and making it go the distance.

Only she moaned—into his mouth. This sweet mewling sound that was as needy as it was sexy, and Gage admitted right then, with Darcy’s heels biting into his ass, that if he didn’t get them to a flat surface soon, the table was as far as he’d make it.

As if reading his mind, she locked herself around his body and mumbled, “Bridal suite. Down the hall. Last door.”

Gage didn’t waste any time, hands on her incredible ass, mouth never leaving hers, he carried her across the kitchen. Darcy, determined to do her part, slid one of those hands, so soft and skilled, between them, giving him a massage that had him stumbling.

When he heard his zipper lower, and felt her warm skin slide beneath the waistband, his focus went hazy because all of the blood had rushed south.

Afraid they’d both wind up on the ground, he rested her on the kitchen table. “We aren’t going to make it if you keep that up.”

“I like keeping it up,” she said leaning back. “And I always liked the look of you at my kitchen table.” She pushed out a chair with the toe of her stiletto, then pushed him back into the seat. “Just like that.”

“And every time I sat at your kitchen table, just like this, while you were flirting around in your nonexistent sleeping shorts, I always imagined you straddling me.”

She reached out and loosened his tie. Taking both ends, she slowly tugged on it, pulling him upright in the chair. “I was not flirting around. I was cooking breakfast.”

“Ah huh, like you’re just helping me out of my tie.”

She gave a hard tug. “Oh no, right now, I’m flirting around.”

“Well, nothing says you’ve got your flirt on quite like straddling.” He patted his lap. “And if you wanted to make it crystal clear, it might help if you lost the dress first.”

Darcy turned around and coyly glanced over her shoulder.

Signal received, he ran his finger tip down her spine, stopping to watch her skin chill from the contact. When he reached the zipper, he gave one fluid tug, the teeth separated, and the dress parted in two, falling all the way to the floor—like he fucking knew it would—leaving Darcy in black panties.

No bra.

And Gage was a ninja master when it came to panties, because that scrap of black lace was nothing more than a freaking thong—and Gage’s life was complete.

“Jesus, had I known that was all you had on under there, I wouldn’t have waited for two hours.”

“Good things come to those who wait.” Darcy turned to face him, and even though she was having fun playing sex goddess, he could see the nerves in her eyes. Tell she was putting on that brave front for him.

He didn’t want her courage, he wanted to make her life easier. Brighter.

“They do.” This moment was all the proof he needed. “If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

“It’s been a while,” she admitted, wrapping her arms around herself like a shield. “And I’m a little nervous.”

“Me too.”

Standing, he cupped her face, then kissed her nose, her cheeks, and finally her forehead. And when she’d relaxed, he pulled her into his arms.

“You deserve this moment to be as beautiful as you,” he whispered. “And that requires more than a table and words. I want to take you to a bed, where I can love your body, show you how special you are, and then in the morning wake up to your smile and start all over.” He tilted her face to meet his. “And if that isn’t tonight, then it isn’t tonight.”

Her eyes shimmered, emotion and desire turning them the warmest shade of whiskey.

“I’m done waiting, Gage. I’m ready to move forward. With you.” Silently she took his hand and together they walked down the hallway, to the last door, and once they were inside, Gage scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

Setting her down, he tossed a condom on the nightstand, his tie over the back of the footboard, and his shirt to the floor. His eyes never leaving hers, he slid over her body and gently kissed her lips.

“What about your pants?” she asked.

“This is all about you. We’re going to take it slow, wait until you are good and ready.”

A man of his word, Gage took his time, licking and kissing and memorizing every part of her body. Starting with her breasts, high and a perfect handful, before moving south, loving how her breath caught when he nipped her breast, licked her stomach, and finally kissed a whisper above her core.

His lips were careful to get close enough to tell her what was coming, but not giving in to the fire until he’d made his way down each one of those legs he loved, kissing her on the inside of her ankle as he slipped off her heels. He spent extra time working his way back up to her inner thigs, nipping the patch of bare skin right beside the lace edging of her panties. And when she was panting so hard he knew she was ready, he gave a lick right up the center.

“Oh…God,” she cried out, arching her back to increase the friction.

And since he loved the sound of her crying out, he did it again. On the third pass, he upped the ante, tugging her thong to the side and leaving nothing between them but hot, pulsing skin.

“I’m about ready to—”

She broke off as he gave a little bite, only to soothe it with his mouth. “We’ve had too many almosts, Pink. This time, I’m going for the sure thing.”

Even though she was about ready to combust, he worked her until her thighs tightened, closing in around him, straining for more. Gage, always the gentleman, gave her what she wanted, adding a finger to the mix.

Only when she made this sweet panting, almost gasping for breath, did he push her over the edge. Her climax was hard and sudden, and she pushed off the bed, her entire body coiling as Gage kept going. Relentless, he kept on, right through her release, and through her aftershocks, not giving in until she was limp on the bed, a satisfied smile on her face.

“That was amazing.”

“Better than cake?” he asked.

“Way better than cake,” she murmured, her eyes sliding closed.

While she caught her breath, Gage made short order of his pants and was back over her in a matter of seconds, sheathed and ready to go. But he paused, right at her core.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, opening her eyes.

When he still didn’t move, her eyes opened and locked on his. Two big, beautiful pools of sunshine that were for him—and him alone—he let himself fall.

With the hope that she would catch him.

“That,” he said. “That was what I was waiting for.”

Unable to hold back any longer, he gave one long thrust and filled her completely, both of them gasping at the connection. Energy arched and flowed between them, and he realized he had a dopey smile on his face. Which wasn’t as embarrassing as he’d expected, because Darcy’s expression wasn’t that far off.

“I knew it would be great,” she said.

“But this is—”

“Yeah.”

Thanking God that he wasn’t alone in this insanity, Gage began to move. Slow withdrawals and even slower thrusts, building a rhythm together until it was as if they were back out on the dancefloor, moving to the sound of their hearts.

Darcy shifted her hips, ever so slowly, locking her legs around his back—those heels once again biting into his ass.

“Your shoes are killing me,” he moaned.

“Want me to take them off?”

“Fuck no.”

With a throaty laugh, she squeezed her legs even tighter, until there wasn’t any air left between them—and he was certain he’d have puncture wounds come tomorrow. And when the languid pace became too painful to sustain, Gage braced himself on an elbow, so he could stroke every inch of her, find every spot that made her gasp.

When he found
the
spot, she didn’t just gasp, she gripped his hair and crushed her mouth to his. And damn, she could kiss. The mouth of an angel, the passion of a tornado.

Addicting combination.

“Now,” she said, biting his lower lip. “I wanted to be clear. I’m ready now.”