brea hadn’t slept all night, had spent most of it
in her room pacing and touching her lips. They still burned with the power of Gage’s kiss. Almost twenty-four hours later, she could still smell him on her, could still feel his arms around her, the strength of his body against her. She wrapped her arms around herself, so lost in her own thoughts she wasn’t sure what time it was. She’d spent most of the day hiding up in her room—thinking.
He’d been right about her. If she’d jumped into bed with him last night, she’d have been terrified, especially after finding out he’d taken it slow and easy with her.
But that last kiss, the way he’d jerked her hair and held her tight and shown her who was in control . . . that had been anything but slow and easy. It had been fire and passion and everything she had imagined a kiss could be—should be—between a man and a woman. It was her every fantasy.
She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms, shuddering at the awesome power of the man. Could she handle that? She’d seen the control he exhibited with the horses since she’d been at the Bar M, had an inkling that Gage was a man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. She’d guessed that he was someone who liked to be in charge.
But she really had no idea what she was getting into, did she?
Or maybe she did. Maybe she’d gravitated toward Gage because he was exactly what she’d been looking for all along. Maybe he was what she needed, what she craved.
And maybe that’s what the problem had been with the guys she’d been with before—with the sex she’d had before. It had been dull, boring, unfulfilling. There’d been no passion, at least not on her side of things. She’d always thought it was her fault, that she’d done something wrong.
But after last night, after the way she had responded to Gage . . . now she wasn’t so sure.
Had it taken her this long to figure out the problem was she’d been with the wrong type of men?
A knock at her bedroom door roused her from overthinking the hell out of the past ten years of her life.
“It’s open.”
Valerie and Jolene came in and closed the door behind them, then made themselves comfortable on her bed.
“You’re obviously not sick, because you’re not in bed,” Valerie observed.
Brea nodded from her spot on the cushioned windowsill, her favorite reading—and thinking—spot. “Obviously.”
“So why have you spent the entire day holed up here? It’s creepy, even for you, Brea,” Jolene said.
She shrugged. “I’ve had some thinking to do.”
“Thinking? Or reenacting your hot night with Gage?” Jolene laced her hands together behind her head and crossed her ankles.
Brea’s spine straightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please. Everyone knows the only two people left behind on the ranch last night—besides Lila, who we all know goes to bed early—were you and Gage. Coincidence? I think not.”
She refused to dignify Jolene’s suspicions with an answer.
“Really?” Valerie leaned forward. “So what happened with you and Gage last night?”
The fact that Valerie was asking—and seemed surprised—meant Jolene hadn’t been blabbing all about it to everyone.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You aren’t denying it. So something did happen between you.”
Brea glared at Jolene. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Come on, Brea, tell us about it.”
Maybe she should. She was confused about what had happened with Gage. And she had no one else to talk to. Yet she wasn’t sure how to talk to her sisters about what she felt, what she wanted. What if they judged her?
“Brea, you know you can tell us anything,” Valerie said. “And it will never go further than this room.”
“He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” Jolene asked. Her brows knit in a tight frown. “If he hurt you at all, he’s history. He’s fired. No, first I’ll kick his ass. Then I’ll boot him off the ranch.”
Brea swung her legs off the window seat, worried now that Jolene would jump to conclusions. “No, he didn’t hurt me at all, Jo. He was every inch the gentleman last night.” Okay, maybe not a gentleman, but that’s not what she wanted, anyway.
Jolene settled back against the pillows. “All right. Then maybe you should tell us what happened between you two.”
“I saw a light up at the bunkhouse, thought it was Grizz since he often stays behind. I ran into Gage. We . . . talked.”
“Talked,” Valerie said. “That’s it? You just talked?”
“Is ‘talked’ a code word for sex?”
Brea rolled her eyes at Jo. “No. We didn’t have sex. We just talked.”
Jolene crossed her arms. “Somehow I don’t think you spent the day up here because you and Gage spent time in conversation. Spill it, Brea.”
“Okay, we kissed a time or two.”
“And that’s it?” Jolene threw up her hands. “You have to hide in your room all day and night because he kissed you? Jesus Christ. Here I thought he’d thrown you down on the floor and fucked your brains out, and all he did was kiss you?”
“Jo, quit being such an ass,” Valerie said before turning her attention back to Brea. “Somehow I don’t think it was just a kiss. There’s more, isn’t there?”
Brea nodded.
“What is it?”
“I think he might be more than I can handle.”
Jo frowned again. “In what way?”
Brea shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I just think if he and I . . . get together . . . I might be in over my head.”
“I don’t understand, Brea,” Valerie said, her tone much less accusatory and suspicious than Jolene’s.
Brea blew out a breath. “I’m not sure how to word this. I think I might want what he’s got to offer, but I’m not sure. It kind of scares me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jolene said.
“I think I do.” Valerie stood and pulled the desk chair over to the window seat, sat and held Brea’s hands. “You mean Gage is very aggressive, sexually.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And you don’t want that.”
“No. I mean yes, I think I do want that. It’s just that the guys I’ve been with before—haven’t been like that.”
“Oh. I get it,” Jolene said. “You’ve got yourself an A-number-one sexual tiger on your hands, and you don’t think you can handle him.”
Brea nodded. “Something like that.”
Valerie squeezed her hands. “When he kissed you last night, did he overpower you? Make you feel uncomfortable?”
“No. He was gentle. He took his time, didn’t back me into a corner or make me feel like it was something I couldn’t handle. It was sweet. Damn, it was really nice.”
“Then I don’t get it,” Jolene said. “Why would you think he was an aggressive kind of man?”
“Because he was the one who put a stop to things. And I thought he just wasn’t interested. So when I turned to leave, he told me he’d been holding back. Then he really kissed me. He showed me how things could be between us if he let go.”
“Ohhh,” Valerie said, nodding. “Now I get it.”
“Well, yee haw, honey,” Jolene said with a wide grin on her face. “There’s nothing better than being with a man who knows what to do with his dick. Congratulations. So what the hell are you doing with us? Go ride that bad boy until you wear him out.”
Brea laughed. “Leave it to you to just put it out there, Jolene.”
Jo shrugged. “Well, why not? There’s nothing wrong with a woman enjoying sex. And if you’ve roped yourself some hot stud, then ride him for all he’s worth.”
Brea turned her gaze back to Valerie, who said, “I have to agree with Jolene on this. Sounds to me like he didn’t want to push you too hard too fast, but when he thought you’d misunderstood his intent, he made it very clear to you that he wanted you. There’s nothing wrong with that. He isn’t pushy, but he sounds damn sexy, Brea. Go for it.”
“See, that’s the thing. I’m not sure I can . . . measure up.”
“Bullshit.” Jolene swung her legs over the bed and stood. “He obviously thinks you can. And believe me, Gage doesn’t whore around with every girl in town who tries to throw herself at him. I know because I’ve been around town and there are a lot of women who try. He’s pretty picky. If he’s decided it’s you he wants, then I’d say he’s a smart guy.”
“Don’t miss an opportunity to tangle with a smoking hot man, Brea,” Valerie said.
“And don’t think every man you have sex with has to be the one and only, forever and ever like in those books you read,” Jolene added. “Go explorin’, honey. Have some fun.”
if having fun meant her heart in her throat, every
limb shaking uncontrollably and breaking out into a decidedly un-sexy sweat, then Brea was having the time of her life. And she hadn’t even seen Gage yet.
After Valerie and Jolene left, she’d taken a shower, done her hair, put on makeup, lotioned her body, then stared into her closet looking for something appropriate to wear.
What, exactly, did one wear to meet a hot man? Jeans and boots, she supposed. Or maybe a skirt and boots. Yeah, that was better. And the weather had stayed blissfully springlike, so she put on a sleeveless silk top and her leather jacket over that. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, surprised to see that she looked—not too bad. She might have fussed over Jolene dragging her into that salon and having her hair cut and colored and her eyebrows waxed, but it had done wonders for her appearance, something she’d never bothered with before. Now she was glad Jolene had talked her into it, because Gage no doubt wouldn’t have given her a second look if she hadn’t had the makeover.
But the fact was, she was dressed, ready to go and scared to death. And sitting out on the front porch reading a book, her booklight clipped to the pages while she swatted the night bugs away from the small light.
She glanced up every now and then at the bunkhouse, knew Gage was in there. It was Saturday night and no one was around. People tended to scatter on the weekends. Valerie and Mason had driven into Tulsa; Jolene had gone into town with all the guys. Just like last night, there was no one else left on the ranch except Lila, who’d long ago gone to bed. Which meant just Gage was left.
When the bunkhouse door opened, she held her breath, her gaze shooting down to the pages in her book. The words blurred together because she wasn’t really reading. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was leaning against the door, just looking at her. She tried to focus on the book, but she couldn’t concentrate when she knew Gage was watching her.
This was ridiculous. He’d told her if she knew what she wanted, she’d have to come to him. What was stopping her?
Fear. Absolute, choking, petrifying fear. What if he was just kidding? What if he didn’t really mean it?
She laid the book in her lap and stared down at the cover with the couple clutching each other. That kiss between her and Gage meant something. He wasn’t toying with her. And his words couldn’t have been any clearer.
She tensed as she heard boots on the wood steps of the front porch, then lifted her gaze to see Gage there, partially shrouded by the darkness and his cowboy hat. Was he angry that she hadn’t come to him?
“Real life is more fun than what you’re going to find between the pages of those books, Brea.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath at the way he looked in dark jeans, a black button-down shirt and his cowboy boots and hat. And couldn’t muster up a damn thing to say to him.
“Change your mind about you and me?”
She lifted her chin. “No. I was just”—she fumbled for the book and flipped through the pages, trying to find her bookmark and failing miserably—“engrossed in this chapter.”
“You’re hiding in that chapter.” He stepped onto the porch and leaned against the rail, crossing one ankle over the other. His legs were long, his thighs muscular, and she remembered exactly how every inch of his exposed skin had looked last night when he’d been wearing only a towel. She’d memorized that moment in the bunkhouse, certain it would never be repeated.
“I’m not hiding. Books are just a nice escape.”
His lips quirked. “Had such a busy day you need that, huh?”
She narrowed her gaze. He knew damn well she hadn’t been anywhere outside today.
He moved in front of her, squatted down, and oh God he smelled so good. He must have just taken a shower. She resisted taking a deep breath just to get a whiff of his soap and his scent.
“Brea, I like to read, too, but there’s nothing like experiencing life firsthand. Real life. Maybe you should try that instead of living yours buried in a book.”
She bristled, not at all liking the way this was going. Okay, so she hadn’t run down to the bunkhouse to be with him. She was . . . weighing her options. Because she had so many options to weigh. “I live my life just fine.”
“Do you? When was the last time you went out dancing, or rode a horse with a guy, or had hot sex under the stars?”
The last time she’d been dancing had been with her sisters. The last time she’d ridden a horse had been with Grizz, who was old enough to be her father, and she’d never had
hot
sex, period, let alone under the stars. She remained mute.
Gage grinned. “I thought so.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on.”
She laid the book down and slid her hand into his. “Where are we going?”
He took a sidelong glance at her from her waist to her feet. “You can ride in that skirt, can’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He held on to her hand and led her down the walk toward the barn.
Once inside, Gage turned on the light. Two horses were already saddled, a dappled gray mare and a brown and white paint that she already knew was Gage’s horse.
“It’s nice out. Thought we’d take a ride.”
“Where to?” she asked.
“I know this place.”
He let the sentence end there. And wasn’t this what she wanted? An adventure outside the books she read? This was real life, with a real man. She could either turn tail and run for the house, hide in her room with her books, or take a chance and have a real experience.