“Isn’t it obvious?”

“To my dick? Yeah. But I think you need a few lessons in self-esteem.”

She rolled her eyes. “Really. And what made you decide there’s anything wrong with my self-esteem?”

He let go of her wrists and brushed his hand over her hair. “Your eyes have a wounded look. When you’re around men, you draw your shoulders toward your chest and almost shrink inside yourself. And you avert your gaze and look at the ground like you consider yourself unworthy of a man’s attention.”

She gaped at him like he’d grown two heads. “How long have you been watching me?”

“Since the first day you got here.”

“You make it a point to study women’s body language and eyes?”

“No. Just yours. And I can tell a woman who’s been hurt by men before. You have.”

She opened her mouth to object, but he pressed his finger over her lips. “Don’t bother to deny it, Brea.”

Okay, so she wouldn’t. And fine, so he’d read her signals all too clear. It was a little disconcerting to discover she was so transparent. Or maybe she wasn’t and Gage was just more adept at reading women—at reading her—than any other man she’d met. “Why do you care?”

He smiled down at her. “Because a woman deserves to be cherished. She deserves to be treated like she’s the most special creature a man has ever met. And if you haven’t been, then it’s damn time someone gave you the power you deserve.”

She snorted. “Women don’t have the power.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, darlin’. Ain’t no woman alive who doesn’t have power over a man.”

“How do you figure that?”

He rolled to the side and fisted her skirt with one hand, drawing it up her thighs.

With his free hand, he slid his palm over her sex. Heat lightning shot between her legs and she melted right there.

“Because you have this,” he said, pressing his palm lightly against her pussy. “And a man will fall to his knees and do whatever you want just so he can have it.”

He slid his fingers under the fabric of her panties, his touch a bare whisper over her flesh. She shuddered at the contact, was so close to orgasm already it was embarrassing. She gripped his shoulders and arched her pelvis against his hand.

“Now. Tell me what you want, Brea, and I’ll give it to you.”

She wanted his hand right there, doing exactly what he was doing. She wanted his mouth covering her sex, licking her until she screamed. She wanted him to rip away her panties to shove his c**k inside her. She wanted him to f**k her hard. And then even harder. But she couldn’t form the words, could only fight to retain control before she tunneled off into oblivion.

“No. Don’t think them. Tell me. I want to know exactly what you’re thinking about.”

She swallowed—God, her throat was parched—and took a deep breath, nervous as hell about uttering these words to a man for the first time.

“I want you to make me come, Gage.”

His lips lifted in that smile that made her turn to melted butter. “Good. How do you want me to make you come?”

“First with your hand. Then with your mouth. And then I want you to—”

“Go ahead. You can say anything you want to me. Do you know when you tell me what you want it gets me hot?”

“I want you to rip my panties off and f**k me.”

Now it was his turn to suck in a deep breath. “Oh hell yeah. I like the sound of that.” He slid his hand back and forth, using light and easy motions, coating his fingers with her moisture. “You want me to f**k you easy or hard?”

She dug her nails into his arm, hardly aware of her own sanity as his fingers danced magic across her clit. “Hard. Really hard.”

“Make you scream kind of hard?”

Her belly did flip-flops hearing him say it. She tightened her grip on his shoulders. “Yes.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

Molten heat burned her, took her ever closer to the edge as he slid his finger inside her and pumped while he used the heel of his hand to glide against her clit.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Brea, your body is made for sex. I can feel you clench around my fingers. You’re wet and hot and you’re body’s crying out to come.”

And then he kissed her, that same blistering kind of kiss he’d given her the night before, the one that made her believe he could take possession of a woman and she’d beg him for more. She whimpered against his mouth as he continued to do magical things with his hand and fingers, never once letting up. That and his sinfully sexy words were all it took to send her crashing into a cl**ax. She cried out and arched her butt off the blanket to drive herself closer to his hand as waves of pleasure catapulted through her.

Gage covered her lips with his, absorbing her cries, swirling his thumb around her cl*twhile she rode an orgasm that could only be described as the best she’d ever had. And still, his finger lingered inside her. Her pu**y continued to spasm around his finger until the pulses grew light and easy, just like her breathing. Clarity returned bit by bit. He drew his lips from hers, smiled down at her. She lost herself in the incredible beauty of his mesmerizing eyes.

“Now that was sweet, Brea. Nice to see you all warmed up for my mouth. You ready for it?”

And just like that, heat and desire and need swelled inside her. She wasn’t used to this. “But what about you?”

“There’s plenty of time for me. This is all about you right now. Just lay back and enjoy my mouth on you.”

She shivered, though the night was still plenty warm. She couldn’t believe she’d just come, cried out, bucking in Gage’s arms here in the outdoors. And now he was lazily drawing her skirt up over her hips, kissing her thighs, raking his fingers down her legs and back up again, then teasing her by kissing her belly.

She leaned up on her elbows, wanting to watch everything he did. The man was too beautiful for words. What was he doing with someone like her? There were girls in town built like centerfolds or models who’d be more than willing to give a hot guy like Gage a ride.

“Brea.”

“Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” She couldn’t tell him.

“I want you thinking about the fact that I’m about to go down on you. How good that’s going to feel. And nothing else. Got it?”

She swallowed. “Got it.”

“Good.” He gave her a lazy half smile, then teased his tongue over her panties, his hot breath ruffling the silk against her sensitive tissues. She started to lift so he could take her panties off, but he pressed her h*ps back down to the blanket.

And then he put his mouth over her sex. She felt his wet tongue right through her panties, the warm melting sensation of her own response, her body drifting in some sort of state between relaxed and tense, where all she felt was his mouth, his tongue and the incredible sensations he evoked. Soon she was nothing but liquid limbs, spreading her legs to give him more access. He tucked his fingers under her panties, teasing her flesh by running his fingertips over her pu**y lips while he sucked on her clit. The sensations were maddening. She wanted to feel his mouth on her without the silk barrier, yet she couldn’t deny the sensuous torture ramped her up inch by delicious inch.

And then he pulled her panties aside and covered her sex with his mouth, his tongue drawing lazy circles around her clit—teasing, but not yet hitting the sweet spot. She arched against him, craving the contact. He only hummed against her, which further tightened her need. He had to hold her down because she wanted to lift against his mouth, to slide against his tongue, anything to draw closer to the heat and wetness of his mouth.

She was close again, so embarrassingly close to orgasm after just experiencing one of monumental proportions. Maybe it was the man, or the location, or a combination of both. And maybe it was the masterful way he seemed to know her body, to know exactly where to lick her, to move his fingers, to give her the sensory experience that would take her right to the edge and hold her there as if she were suspended in space, hovering, waiting for the moment when he pressed his tongue flat against her engorged, throbbing cl*tat the same time he slid two fingers inside her pussy.

She was watching him, and feeling it all at the same time, and it was all too much. His fingers buried deep inside her, pumping away, his tongue pressed hard against her clit, drawing circles around the taut bud as if he knew exactly what it would do to her.

She shattered, reaching down to hold his face right there, rocking against him with wild abandon as she cried out, this orgasm even more intense than the first. She felt like she’d never come before, as if this was the very first time she’d had an orgasm. She felt it in her muscles, in her bones, in her nerve endings, shooting out from her toes all the way to the ends of her hair, leaving her shaking all over.

And then Gage was there, his face hovering over hers. He kissed her, and she tasted the tart sweetness of her own come on his mouth. She’d never done that before—never knew it would excite her to taste herself on a man’s lips. She held his head between her hands and licked his lips, loving that he groaned, that the muscles of his body tightened against her. She felt the rough slide of his denim-clad shaft rubbing against her and wanted him inside her so badly she could hardly stand to wait any longer.

She let go of his face and he pushed to his feet.

She swallowed hard as he stared down at her with the kind of look that screamed predator. And she was the prey.

She kind of liked that.

She waited in breathless anticipation for what was coming next.

control was a big thing in gage’s life, in his work, and especially with women. But God help him, if Brea continued to smile up at him like a hungry wolf who wanted to eat him alive, he was going to lose it.

Shy? Yeah, he knew that about her. But he hadn’t expected her to be so responsive. He thought he was going to have to coax it out of her.

He’d been wrong. She was a natural at sex, once given the right stimulus.

And he was stimulated as hell, his c**k and balls throbbing for release after touching and tasting her. Lying on the ground like that she was an invitation he couldn’t resist.

But the wind had picked up and a chill cut the air around them. The last thing he wanted was an interruption.

He grabbed her hands. “Come on, darlin’. It’s getting cold out here.”

He pulled her to her feet and she tilted her head back to stare at him. “Are we leaving?”

Disappointment shadowed her eyes and made him smile. He squeezed her hand. “Are we finished yet?”

“Well, uh, I didn’t think so.” Her gaze skirted south, right where the bulge in his jeans hadn’t even begun to subside.

“You’re right. We haven’t. We just need to change locations. Thought we’d go inside the cabin where it’s warmer.”

“Oh. Good idea.”

They went inside, and Gage held on to her hand, leading her toward the sofa. He turned on the lamp on the table.

“Um, wouldn’t you rather leave the lights off?” she asked.

He turned to her. “No. I want to see you. All of you.”

“Oh.” Her gaze drifted toward the double windows leading outside. He tipped her chin and forced her attention back to him.

“Brea. No one is around but you and me. If you and I are going to do this, you have to trust me. If you don’t want to, say so now and we’ll head back.”

“I want this.”

No hesitation. That was all he needed to know. He moved in, wound his arms around her waist and drew her close.

And she tensed. All that relaxation he’d felt in her body earlier had disappeared.

He loosened his hold on her and took a step back. “What’s wrong?”

She tilted her head back and smiled, but there was fear in her eyes. “Nothing. I’m ready. Let’s get to it.”

She’d made it sound more like a pending execution than lovemaking. She was girding up for battle, for something unpleasant. Not quite the scenario he’d pictured.

“Bullshit.” He took a step back and sat on the sofa. “Come on. Sit down and let’s talk.”

Brea frowned. “Talk? About what?”

He laid his palm on the sofa cushion. “Sit down, Brea.”

She did, looking like someone who’d just been called into the principal’s office for doing something bad. She stared down at her boots, not at him. He looked at her for a few seconds, trying to figure out the problem. Outside, she’d been eager, responsive, had melted under him. But a minute ago she’d acted like a scared virgin. Huh.

“You have had sex before, right?”

Her gaze shot to his. “Of course. Tons of times.”

He avoided laughing, instead arching his brow. “Tons? Define ‘tons.’ ”

She was really cute when she blushed. “A lot.”

“How old were you when you had sex for the first time, Brea?”

“Do we really have to go there, Gage?”

“I think it’s important, yeah.”

“How old were you?” she asked.

“Fourteen.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

He shrugged. “You asked.”

“So you’ve probably had thousands of women.”

He snorted. “When I was a horndog teenager, I got around, yeah. But when I got older I got more selective.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not such a manwhore now?”