Gage (Pittsburgh Titans 3)

Gage moves over me, settling on the other side and turning me into him. His arms go around my waist, and he kisses me and it’s so soft, I feel instant frustration. My hands move over his body, savoring the warmth of his skin and the prickle of his hair. Gage’s hand slips up my shirt and cups my breast, his thumb finding my nipple. The contact is electric, and I jerk in his arms.

“Wait until my mouth is there,” he says with a chuckle.

“Oh God,” I mutter as he pinches it lightly.

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and the living room light provides a bit of glow near the doorway. Not enough to show details, but enough so I can see the outline of his body. I’m assuming that’s all he can see of me.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he says.

“Okay,” I whisper, and through a series of maneuvers, I let him help me disrobe. My clothes are tossed to the floor, and when I’m as naked as he is, we kiss again. He pushes me to my back, resting part of his weight on me.

And then as promised, his mouth is on my breast, his tongue swirling around my nipple. One of his hands strokes down my ribs, and he starts to wrap his arm around me to draw me closer.

“Don’t,” I mumble, grabbing his wrist to stop the journey.

Gage freezes, lifts his head. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… my back is damaged.” I scoot a little away from him, and he makes it easy by releasing me instantly and rolling to his side. It’s so dark, he can’t see anything, but I feel exposed.

“Jenna,” Gage says, his tone calm and reassuring. “We can stop if—”

“No,” I rush to say, pressing my hand to his chest. Not to push him away, but to touch my skin to his. “I don’t want to stop. I’m just nervous.”

“I’d like to tell you not to be, but that would be a ridiculous waste of breath. Just know that when you’re comfortable enough to share the pieces of you that you hate, I want you to know that I won’t hate them.”

“How can you say that?” I blurt out, almost in an accusing manner.

“Because I don’t care about your scars, Jenna,” he replies gently. God, he sounds so sincere.

“You haven’t seen them,” I point out.

“I don’t need to see them to know that.” His hand comes to the back of my neck, and he pulls me forward for another kiss. To reestablish our intimacy. His lips are soft and gentle, and the kiss is brief. “The only way to prove it to you is to move forward, and then you can watch me not run. You’re the one who has to take the risk, Jenna. You’re going to have to see it for yourself to believe it.”

My breath comes out in a choppy mess of frustration, and I’m ashamed for putting Gage through this. He’s never once made me feel anything but beautiful.

I force myself to relax and scoot closer to him on the bed until we’re face to face, mere inches between us. Though I can’t see him well, I can feel his heat.

Reaching out, I take his hand, and before I chicken out, I draw it over my body and press his palm to my back. A blast of icy fear rushes through me, and I swear my heart stops as I await his reaction.

For a heartbeat, he does nothing, but then ever so slowly, he glides his fingertips up my spine. The sensation is dulled from the thickness of the scars that no amount of skin grafting could fully repair to make my skin perfect again.

But what I can’t feel through the nerve endings, I feel in the clench of my chest—from both fear and hope.

Gage’s fingers stop between my shoulder blades before he flattens his hand again to slide down my back. He curves it over an ass cheek—equally scarred—and squeezes my globe.

Hard.

And then he pulls my body into his so I can feel his erection pressing into my stomach. Thick, hard evidence of arousal that’s as affirming to me as any verbal promise he could make.

Gage’s hand moves to the back of my thigh—also scarred—and hikes my leg up over his hip. My breath hitches as his hand moves over my ass and between my legs. He draws me in closer, lengthening his reach, and presses a long finger inside me from behind.

I moan, deliriously aroused by the surety in his desire for me. Gage’s mouth is back on mine, and he’s kissing me hard. I kiss him back, and our teeth gnash as my own hand moves to his ass. I wiggle closer to him, hitching my leg higher to bring my most intimate parts against his.