Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“I have, actually. Turns out I get free food at the resort.” I don’t mention Kai.
“Nice.” If he wonders whether I was alone last night, he doesn’t ask. “Well, then, how about a tour of our business?”
“Oh, I’d love that.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up in … half an hour?”
“I’ll be ready.”
LEXY
After everything Kai and I have done together since yesterday, I don’t expect to be having those kinds of feelings about anyone else. If anyone asked, I would have said I was thoroughly sated and completely satisfied.
Then Gage pulls into the parking lot at the resort and unfolds himself from the driver’s seat, and my heart skips a beat. Total cliché, but my body doesn’t care. He’s just as beautiful as he was yesterday.
As I look at him, there’s a knowing, a quiet certainty: he will always make me feel this way. I will always want Gage. Even if we were parted for decades—or forever—a part of me would still yearn for him.
Which leaves me feeling confused and guilty. Who gets her brains screwed out, in the best possible way, and then gets horny for the screwer’s best friend?
Me, that’s who.
Gage studies me over the hood of his car, no doubt taking in my expression, my posture, and a million other tiny cues. Then he comes toward me, his long legs eating up the distance, moving with a grace that reminds me of our dance yesterday.
When he’s standing in front of me, he looks down, his expression enigmatic. I tense, waiting for him to tell me he’s changed his mind, that he can’t handle me with Kai after all. I’m not prepared for what he does say.
“You never have to apologize.”
I close my eyes. My head tilts forward until it touches his chest. After a moment, I say, “Our hug got interrupted yesterday.”
His arms come around me, mine around him, and we stand together like we did at the reception; only this time, we don’t let go. For long moments, it’s just us, together. And all the turmoil inside me goes quiet.
How does he do it? How can this man heal me with just his touch? I don’t know, but it hits me—that’s why I need them both, have always needed them both: Kai’s fire, and Gage’s grounded strength.
And I vow once more that I will not lose them, not either of them. Not ever again. I am whole in ways I haven’t been in years, just by being near them, in ways that go much deeper than anything sexual.
But sex is definitely the elephant in the room. Or should that be the snake? My body is intensely curious about what secrets Gage’s clothing conceals.
Which is why I release him and take a step back. I’m not ready to go there, no matter what my body wants. Smiling up at him, I say, “Tour time?”
The answering smile that ghosts around his mouth makes me think he knows everything that was just going through my head—and other parts of me. His only response, though, is to open the passenger-side door of his car.
Such a gentleman. But with Gage, though his manners somehow feel courtly, even old-fashioned, they never feel forced or condescending. For him, courtesy is as natural as arguing is to Kai.
We don’t talk much on the drive, but it’s an easy silence. In minutes, we’re near the Strip. Gage finds a slot in a parking garage, and after a short walk to a trendy plaza right in front of one of the most popular resort hotels on Las Vegas Boulevard, we come to a stop in front of a glass-fronted shop. A sign above the door reads Beasts Ink in bold red letters, and several “Best of Vegas” stickers beside the entrance catch my eye as we go inside.
My brow furrows at the Beasts name, but I don’t have time to question it, because my attention is immediately drawn to the shop’s interior.
I’m not sure what I expected. I’ve never gotten a tattoo, never been in a tattoo parlor, but my impression of what they’re like is dimly-lit back rooms and an overall seedy atmosphere. Which I guess may be true for some of them.
This one, though, feels more like an upscale salon turned ultra masculine. It’s clean and brightly lit, but with a lot of black metal, wood surfaces, and a dark brick wall running the length of the space. Instead of photos on the walls of models with various hairstyles, there are beautiful close-up shots of tattoos. Some are in glorious full color, others rendered in fine detail in grayscale, and the styles range from delicate to dramatic to whimsical.
There are half a dozen work stations lined up in the space, carefully arranged to allow for an easy flow of foot traffic and minimal disruptions. Kai’s at one of them, working on a gorgeous curvy woman with flaming red hair. The now-familiar jealousy whips through me, and I shove it ruthlessly down. Intent on his work, Kai doesn’t look up when we enter.