“That means you’d better watch out for me.”
“For you, huh?” His mouth runs a flurry of hungry kisses down my neck. Gage lets out a moan that sends that sweet spot between my legs trembling. It’s pointless for me to ever stay mad at Gage. Speaking of which, I believe I have some spitting to tend to.
My hands glides down his rock hard arms until I come upon his wrists, and in one svelte move I pin him to the sand, missing the edge of the blanket by a head.
“Sorry,” I say, admiring how achingly handsome he is with the fire blinking over his features in sharp hues of red and champagne.
“You don’t look sorry.” He tries to break free from my grasp, but I implement my Celestra strength and hold him there with my fingers fashioned like a pair of iron cuffs.
“That’s okay.” His head relaxes in the sand again as his eyes smolder into mine. “I kind of like this.”
“That’s your problem, Gage—you give into the will of others a little too easily.”
His dimples flex, no smile. Point taken, but he doesn’t say a damn word.
Good. My anger is starting to percolate, and it’s just what I need.
“I think we should play a game.” I pull him to his feet, easy as lifting a pebble off the sand. “I’ll race you to the old pier and back.”
“That’s three miles out.” He shakes his head. “Both ways.”
“Oh, come on. Celestra verses Fem.” I glare at him a moment as if it were his fault he fell into the Fem category. “It’ll be fun. I bet it’ll take less than five minutes.”
His mouth falls open before rounding out into a smile.
“I like this.” He nods into the idea a little too eagerly as if I had just challenged him to a quick game of tackle football. That would have thrilled the old Gage. This new version thrives off strength and authority. “It’s on, Oliver.” He crouches down in a runner’s position and bounces on his heel. “I’ll even give you a head start.”
“Oh, honey, it’s you that’s going to need it. Either leave now, or it’s on three.”
“Three.”
We bolt down the glassy, damp sand like eagles diving off the highest mountain hunting for their prey. I wonder if that’s what I’ve become to him? An animal to trap. A trophy for his demented father.
Gage and I hurdle an old evergreen that’s lying on its side at the exact same time, and something about the unified effort warms me. We hit the edge of the battered, rundown pier and pivot without so much as a blink. We’re neck and neck until we hit that fallen tree, and I eclipse him for a moment only to incite a roar in him that sends him flying past me in a blur. My legs carry me faster than they were ever designed to, and I still find Gage waiting for me by the bonfire, hardly winded from the effort.
“Okay, you win.” I can barely get the words out. “For now.”
“You don’t give up, Skyla. That’s what I like about you.” He falls to the blanket.
I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered that he didn’t slip me the victory.
“What are you sitting down for? We’re just getting started.”
Gage laughs as he bounces back to his feet. “What now? You want to leap the flames? See whose hair gets singed off first? Or maybe we should climb the highest pine tree. I’ll let you choose which one.” He says it playful enough, but layered beneath it is a mocking tone that lets me know he thinks there isn’t a thing he can’t dominate.
“How about we do something a little more old fashioned? Like wrestle.”
“Now we’re talking.” He walks toward me with a slightly hardened edge. His dark stubble has taken over, and he looks like a demented version of the clean cut, fresh-faced boy I fell in love with. Although, in all honesty, I’d like nothing more than to be ravished by this wicked being right about now. As heartbreaking as everything has been, sadly this bad boy version of Gage has lit a fire in me ten times hotter than I’ve ever burned before.
Gage growls as his lips curve up. “I think we should add one more element to our little game.”
“Wings?”
“I was going to say blindfolds, but I like your idea better.”
Gage flicks a finger in my direction, and a magnificent weight pulls my shoulders back as large feathered wings erupt from my back, iridescent with an ethereal blue glow soft as the sky. I take a breath as they fan out over me like a shelter—ten feet high, eight feet wide.
“Beautiful.” Gage says it breathless before bowing his head and outstretching his arms. He lets out a mighty roar, and a thunderous sound explodes from behind him. A cast shadow surrounds him, black-feathered wings that magnificently dwarf mine.
“Holy, holy,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage. There is nothing more stunning than a naughty Gage Oliver sporting dark wings. Now it’s me who demands to fall to my knees in worship, and I do. Gage comes over and kneels before me. He picks up my hands before slipping his grasp to my wrists and holding my arms stretched wide.
“You, my bride, are far too beautiful for words.” He looks pained when he says it. “I worship you. You are the air I need to breathe.” He shakes his head just enough. “I don’t want to hurt you, Skyla. I’ve never wanted to hurt you.” And there you have it. Gage isn’t talking about any silly game we’ve landed ourselves in. He’s telling me all about his sins without using the proper words.
He clears his throat. “Winner has to pin the loser for ten seconds in any one position.” His gaze snakes into mine and pins me efficiently. Gage has already won where it counts, in my heart. “My man parts are off limits”—he leans in and takes a gentle bite from my bottom lip—“for now.”
“And go.”
Gage and I wrestle. We bring it home, old school, one grunt after the other as we take turns thrusting one another to the cold, hard sand. We roll and tumble, slowly making our way closer to the waterline, our wings perhaps the worst idea ever. They’re cumbersome, and heavy, and an all-around burden, but I think Jacob had the right idea. Everyone should wrestle an angel at least once in their lives.
Then the tide turns, and what was once a fun, playful activity becomes an exercise in systematic aggression. I’m weakening his defenses, wearing him down just enough. I manage to pin him for a few seconds at a time—getting all the way up to eight, twice before he roars back to life.
“You won’t win,” he says it like a fact.
There it is. The trigger I’ve been waiting for to infuriate me to no end.
“Maybe I won’t.” But I already know I have this in the Celestra bag.
His cheek cinches in a maniacal half smile. “That’s your problem, Skyla. Maybe it’s you who gives in to the will of others a little too easily.”
“Very funny, Oliver.” I give a mean grunt as I struggle to flip him off me.
“What’s the matter?” His dimples dig in deep as he bears down with all his weight to keep me from bucking him off. “Your Celestra strength waning?”
“You wish.” I battle to move him an inch, but he’s right. I’ve depleted myself far more than I ever have before. My muscles relax, and he lands hard over me. “Okay, get off, you win.” I turn my head toward the ocean and watch as the whitewash inches toward us.
“Make me.” Gage hooks his gaze into mine until I’m caught in the vortex of those night sirens of his. “Let’s do this, Skyla.” His jaw tightens. “You want this. I can feel it.”
“Stop!” My voice reverberates into the darkness. “I said get off.”
“It’s going to be a long night because I’m not going anywhere.” There isn’t the slightest hint of sweetness in his voice. And, unnervingly, something about his sinister attitude, his smiling, mocking eyes, reminds me of Demetri.
“You just love this, don’t you?” I seethe as a wave sizzles up and spits in our faces. Spitting! I almost forgot the most important part of Lexy’s amped up lesson plan. “You’re getting off dominating me like this—letting me know that you’re the one in control.”
“You get in contr
ol, Skyla.” He grits it through his teeth as if his own strength were straining. “Prove to me that you are who you say you are.”
I glare at him.
“What exactly is it that you’re questioning?” My voice shakes with anger. “Say it.” My fingers dig into his flesh. I want to hurt him. I want him to cry out in pain the way my heart demands that I do. “Say it!” I roar over his face, and he closes his eyes a moment.
“Prove that Celestra is better than a Fem.”
A scream rips from my lungs so loud and shrill it burns its way up my throat like a razor, lacerating my voice box in the process. I hock back my reserves just the way Lexy did this afternoon and spray his face as far and wide as the deep blue sea.
He blinks back and closes his eyes tight.
“All right you got me.” His dimples ignite, falling away as soon as they came. Gage looks down at me in horror and gives a quick grimace as if he were in pain. “What’s happening?” He whispers mostly to himself as he rolls over and takes a seat with his head between his legs like he’s about to be sick.
“Gage? You okay?”
The fire dies a quick death, and Rockaway claps to darkness. The sea churns up again like a violent creature full of piss and fury. Rain collapses over our heads as if it were building the entire time, pooling in a giant sheet that finally burst from the pressure.
Gage thrusts his head back, outstretching his arms and lets out a furious, utterly useless roar.
Our wings turn to ash before they blow away with the wind, out of our lives, out of existence.
They were the last to go.
The storm rages overhead with lightning fracturing the sky in brilliant white shocks while the thunder roars its ominous threat, causing the world to tremble.
Gage and I make a run for the truck. Gone is the giddy laughter, the jovial newlyweds that had first arrived. Gage helps me in first before climbing in on the driver’s side.
“I couldn’t do it,” he pants as he slams his door.
The windows bloom with fog as the rain prickles the glass with a million needlelike bites.
“I couldn’t teleport us over.” He shakes his head into the steering wheel. The muscles in his jaw pop as his anger percolates. His eyes shoot to mine, white hot and furious. “You’ve done this, haven’t you?”
And there it is. My efforts to bind a Fem inadvertently caused me to hand my husband his manhood on a platter.
A ragged breath escapes me as I slide over to him. The truck has an optional third seat between us, big enough to fit a cat, although I’ve sat there on occasion. You can pull the console down and use it as a cup holder if you like, but Gage hasn’t bothered. Usually I like it this way, me closer to Gage is a good thing—tonight I’m not too sure.
“Why?” He says it flat while staring vacantly at me. He’s looking through me, playing out the scene again in his mind, I can tell.
“I didn’t know I could do it, I swear. I didn’t know it would work. Lexy taught me.”
“To bind a Fem.” His head falls back as he takes a breath. “And you bound me.” His brow rises as if he’s amused, but the underlying emotion that’s plain as table salt is anger.
I’m not sure how to mollify him. I’m not sure I want to.
Gage slams his palm into the steering wheel in a fit of frustration. The world outside illuminates in a burst of pale afternoon light, showing off the hard lines of his comely features. That five o’ clock shadow he sports 24/7 peppers his face with darkness. No sooner did Demetri tap him over the shoulder as one of his own than Gage morphed into a villainous version of himself. Gage as the villain—I want to laugh, but my body demands a good cry over this new reality. Had he been one all along?
“You’re my wife.” He says it low like a threat as his fingers glide over the wheel.
“And you’re my husband.” I’m all for establishing ground rules.
Gage turns to face me fully. His breathing grows erratic as his anger fuels him.
“You took away my power.” Gage scoops me in his arms like he’s gathering sheaves of brush for the fire.
“Am I’m going to have to pay?” I bite down on my lip, inadvertently flirting, wanting him far more than I can ever recall wanting him before.
His brows twitch like the wings of a bird. “Yes, Skyla, you’re going to have to pay.”
Gage comes at me hungry, insatiable, with hard fervent kisses. His wild tongue dominates mine.
The tugging and pulling of jeans and sweaters ensues as we struggle to disrobe our sticky, wet clothes in the close quarters. We’re all tongues and teeth. His arms writhe over me, wild, like twin serpents that just had their tails hacked off. I cut off far more than Gage’s tail, and now I’m happily paying the price.
Gage flips me onto my knees as my face smashes into the cool passenger’s side window. He holds my thighs out like a vice with his legs, and I can hear the sound of a condom rolling over him. He’s in me rough and greedy, thrusting with an aggressive assault. My face rolls over the glass as the cool precipitous beads roll to my lips. Gage pulls out and hikes my knees over his shoulders. His mouth lands over that tender part of me delivering its hot wild kisses, that tongue-lashing he was administering to my mouth just moments ago. I struggle to catch my breath in this awkward position—my mind and body too hopped up on delirium to care.
“Gage.” His name bites from my lips in a whisper. My fingers wrap themselves around the door handle, and I secure myself from falling off the seat. Another cry of ecstasy washes over me as he holds me open, exposes me in this non-ubiquitous way. My eyelids crack, and I watch as the windows bleed with sweat. My face presses to the glass as he brings me to the height of my universe far faster and with more determination than ever before. I let out a cry as my body gives into a vigorous quake. His mouth rides lower, and I can feel him drinking me down. Gage lowers my knees to the seat once again, and he’s in me, pumping away like he never left. His hand glides up my body and he slips a finger in my mouth and I trap it there, holding it hostage with my teeth.
“Shit.” Gage takes a hold of my hips and digs into my flesh so deep I can feel him right there over my bones as his body shakes into mine.
The rain sizzles around us as our panting subsides. Gage pulls me over his lap, and I lay my head over his chest, looking up at my handsome prince—the king. I want to say we’ll get through this, whatever this may be, but I hear different words tumble from my lips.
“You don’t belong to Demetri, you never will.”
His eyes steady over mine with a smile buried in each one. “Who do I belong to, Skyla?”
“You belong to me.” A moment thumps by. “I own you.”
His lips curve with the slight impression of a grin. “You’re right. I’ve belonged to you since before we ever met.” He sweeps his thumb over my cheek. “You, Skyla Oliver, are the air I breathe.” He lands a solemn kiss over my lips. “It’s only you my eyes search for when I wake up in the morning. It’s only you my arms ache to hold at night. Not one moment goes by without you on my mind. You’re the object of my obsession, Skyla—I confess—always have been, always will be. I promise you—we are not a mistake.”
My eyes fill with tears. He’s still in there. The boy I love still hides behind that dense-as-limestone wall he erected the moment he took a sip from that chalice.
“I was wrong, Gage,” I whisper. “You own me, not the other way around.” My lips crash to his, and I fold.
If Gage Oliver is off the rails then so am I. If he’s committed to beating his father at his own game then I’ll do the same with that insane mother of mine in the sky.
All holy shit is about to break loose.
Who am I kidding?
It already has.
Gage
Damn storm.
Every incessant drop of rain reminds of what I wasn’t capable of doing. If Skyla can shut me down like that, it only proves this power is nothing but temporary—nothing but bullshit. I plan on paying a visit to d
ear old Dad to let him know exactly that.
Skyla wanted to pick up a few things for the night, so we head over to the Landon house.
“So how vanilla did that taste?” My cheeks rise with a smile as we drive through puddles deep enough to swallow all four of the tires on my truck.
“Like vanilla dipped in erotica.” Her lashes lower with that naughty look I’ve come to adore more than sunlight in the morning. The things we’ve done—the things we did tonight at Rockaway—they’re bonding us in ways I could never have imagined. Brielle’s insult was a challenge that both Skyla and I took on with a vengeance.
A familiar car is parked down by the mailbox.
“Look who’s here,” I say as I bypass my father’s sedan and pull in high on the driveway.
Skyla and I make a run for the house. The heavy scent of fresh-baked cookies lingers in the air. Brown sugar and chocolate melt my senses, but Skyla was enough dessert for me.
We head down the hall, and Skyla places her finger over her lips as we hover for a moment, listening in.
“So what’s the big idea?” Tad croaks with curiosity.
“Well…” Mom begins with that nervous tone in her voice that says she’s hesitant to go on.
“I’ll take it from here.” Dad sounds even-keeled, always a good sign. “Emma and I were thinking that perhaps the two of us and the two of you could kick in some funds to help the kids purchase a little something of their own—say a condo.”
Silence.
“Funds?” Lizbeth asks meekly as if she’s never heard of the term.
Shit. I’m feeling bad for everyone involved right about now.
“Just a hundred thousand dollars or so,” Dad continues. “Emma and I were going to take out a second mortgage. If you’d like, we could use the same loan officer and perhaps work out a deal on the fees?”
Skyla slaps her hand over her mouth while looking up at me wide eyed. I can’t tell if she’s excited or horrified at my parents’ suggestion.