8

      GAGE WAS PRETTY sure he’d just found the gates of heaven. He pressed his hand higher, rubbed his thumb over the fabric covering Hailey’s heated core. It was silk, like her skin.

      “What color are your panties?” he asked, not bothering to clear the husky passion from his voice.

      Her eyes darted to the doorway, then back to his. She bit her bottom lip. He wanted to soothe the soft pink flesh, but his hand was busy. Instead, he arched an insistent brow.

      “Pink,” she whispered. “Pink like my bra. The lace is chocolate.”

      “Yum.”

      He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of those pink-and-chocolate panties. He ran his index finger along the swollen flesh he found, then gently pinched.

      Squirming, she gasped. But she didn’t pull away.

      He shifted, so to anyone walking in they simply looked as though they were in conversation. But the move put him at a better angle, so he could use his thumb to caress her clitoris while slipping one finger into her tight, sweet core.

      She whimpered.

      But didn’t pull away.

      “I can’t see a thing,” he murmured, his words husky thanks to the passion clogging his throat. He had to swallow before continuing. “But I can imagine what you look like under the table. Pale flesh, blond curls. I can feel how wet you are. The images are clear in my mind. Vivid. Mouthwatering.”

      She opened her mouth, whether to respond or not he didn’t know, because all that she offered was a low, breathy moan.

      He moved two fingers in, swirling and plunging in time with his thumb’s rhythm on her clit.

      “I can imagine what it looks like as I touch you. My mind is painting a picture of you, naked, beneath me. Of your body straining toward mine, opening wide. Welcoming.”

      Her breath was coming in gasps now, even as she bit her lip as if to hold back her cries.

      “Now, that’s an image,” he said, forcing the words out as his eyes devoured her face.

      She was so damned beautiful. The flush of passion washed over her delicate skin. Her eyes glazed, lids lowered but never moving from his. Her mouth.

      Oh, God, her mouth.

      He wanted those lips on him.

      His fingers plunged deeper. He shifted angles, pressing tight along the front wall of her core.

      She tightened around him. And then, one more swirling stab of his fingers, and she went over.

      God, that felt good.

      A satisfaction that had nothing to do with physical release poured through Gage.

      He watched her explode. Her breath came in tiny pants as her body came in tiny tremors.

      Unable to resist, he leaned in to take her mouth. To taste her gasps of delight. It was as if he was a part of her orgasm. As if he was deeply embedded in the passion that engulfed her. A part of her.

      It was incredible.

      Then all hell broke out.

      Bursting their peaceful, romantic bubble was a clash of sounds. A braying laugh. A sibilant giggle. And the sound of someone asking directions to Hailey’s private room. And footsteps, clomping and rat-a-tat-tatting across the atrium’s cement floor.

      It was like being doused with a vat of ice water while being awoken from a very hot, wet dream by a brass band. A grade-school band, at that; one that hadn’t learned all the notes.

      Trying to shake off the discordant horror spinning down his spine, Gage pulled his mouth off Hailey’s.

      The sound came closer, in all its irritating glory.

      His fingers still buried in her warmth, Gage steeled himself, gritted his teeth, then looked toward the commotion just as Rudy Rudolph swept into the room. Hanging on him like a glittering party favor was a redheaded piece of fluff who, at first glance, bore a striking resemblance to Cherry.

      Gage blinked away the haze of passion from his eyes and realized the only thing the woman had in common with the torch singer was their hair color and bust size.

      And Rudy’s interest.

      “Sorry, sorry I’m late. Candy and I got caught up at a party. You know how that goes. But I’m here now.”

      Indeed, he was. Thank God for the man’s noisy entrance and exquisite timing. A minute earlier, and Hailey would have been midorgasm. Three minutes later, and Gage was pretty sure he’d have been sliding into her hot, wet depths.

      Still, it was hard to find an attitude of gratitude when his rock-hard dick was pressing painfully against his zipper.

      He slid a sideways glance at Hailey. Horror was starting to replace shock on her face. Both of which had quickly chased away that glow of desire he’d enjoyed so much.

      It was as much for that, as for the fact that he had to surreptitiously move his hand back to his own lap now, that Gage cursed Rudy.

      Not that the other guy cared.

      His grin as oblivious as the vacant expression in his date’s eyes, the old man plopped himself into the chair opposite Gage and Hailey and threw both hands wide.

      “Well? Show me some romance.”

      * * *

      HE’D GOT HER off over dinner.

      In a restaurant.

      With just his fingers. And his words.

      Her face was still on fire. Hailey’s breath caught in her chest and she had to close her eyes against the power of that memory. His murmured suggestions echoed in her mind, making her want to squirm.

      Oh, yeah, those had been some powerful words.

      And then, just as she’d been ready to throw off her clothes and ride him at the dinner table, her potential boss had come in.

      And Gage, damn him, had acted as if nothing at all had happened. As if he hadn’t had his fingers inside her as he greeted the other man. As if she hadn’t been dripping wet, hot and horny beneath his hand while Rudy Rudolph introduced his bimbo du jour. Then, while Hailey was still reeling—she didn’t even know if she’d said hello—he’d claimed they were finished with dinner and