I talk to Josie every day and she’s settled into her routines in Iowa easily enough. She’s living in Owen’s main house while he renovates and lives in his barn. She’s been in touch with Noah every day since she got back and they talk for hours, sometimes late into the night. He’s planning to visit her the week before Christmas.
Gage invited me to spend Christmas with him, his brothers and his cousins. So it turns out we’ll be spending two days with the Tuckers in Nashville.
He took me to Chicago for a weekend, to see his penthouse apartment, his offices and his life. His former life, as he puts it. As soon as we got there, actual paparazzi were swarming around us, taking pictures. I hadn’t realized how famous he was in his hometown. And how much the people there—especially women—compete for his attention. Gage kept his arm around me the entire time. He wouldn’t let go of my hand. He kissed me in front of the crowds. If anything, he seemed more obsessed and crazed than usual while we were in Chicago, which I wasn’t quite expecting. If I needed proof that he loves me, he gave it to me that weekend in spades. Not that I really did. It’s another gift he’s given me: I believe him.
He’ll keep the apartment in Chicago available for us and run his companies remotely from Key West. It’s not that I didn’t like Chicago—I did, and it’ll be a fun place to spend time with him—but I’d miss the warm humidity and the Key West flavor in the air. The sand and the sun and the way my heart lifts as soon as I drive across the Seven Mile Bridge.
Gage says wherever I am is his home now.
With us, it got very intense very quickly, but there didn’t seem to be any reason to try to slow it down. We’ve been inseparable since the morning he broke into my apartment to confess his love for me. We only seem to get more addicted to each other with each passing hour.
He insists that we’re going to spend a month next summer at his lake house in Michigan. He has several but one of them is his favorite place in the world, he said. I’m excited to see it, and to spend time with him there.
My tiny, rustic apartment will stay mostly the same and will be the last thing to be renovated, once our new house is ready for us to move into. It’ll be turned into a cute and slightly more modern yoga studio and I’ve decided to teach a few classes when we reopen.
For now, I still do my practice each day. I have a new student. Or at least a very enthusiastic observer. He’s terrible at yoga. Mostly because he won’t concentrate.
“Stop that,” I tell him. “You’re distracting me.”
“You’re distracting me.”
This happens all the time.
I’m in child’s pose and he’s kneeling behind me, off his mat. “Get back on your mat,” I say.
“I like your mat better.”
He’s dressed in only a pair of shorts that aren’t even yoga shorts.
His hand slides over my back, massaging me gently. Then it glides lower, over my hips and between my legs, where he cups me with his warm palm. His fingers play and he gently massages my clit. Until I can feel the warmth. “Just as I thought. You’re getting wet for me. And I can’t have that go unattended.”
I gasp lightly as he lazily squeezes and rubs me intimately until my panties and shorts are wet to the touch.
“Let’s get tantric,” he murmurs lecherously.
“That’s all you want to do, is get tantric. What about yoga?”
“I can’t do yoga like this.” I turn to look at what he means, even though I already know. His cock is fully hard and halfway out of his shorts, glistening with moisture.
I laugh, exasperated, because … no, he really can’t do yoga like this. And he looks too delicious for me to be able to do yoga with him like this. I crawl closer. “Lay back,” I say gently, guiding him onto the mat so he’s lying flat on his back. He rests his head on a bent, burly arm. I kneel over him, running my hands over his hair-dusted chest, loving the feel and appreciating the sublime shape of his big, sculpted body. He lets me explore, watching me as I unzip his shorts, fully revealing him to me.
I grip his engorged shaft with both hands and lift it away from his stomach. Slowly, I lick the moisture, sliding my tongue across the slit, taking the head of his cock into my mouth. There’s no way I can take all of him, he’s far too big, but I grip his thick cock in my fist and suck him deeper. A gush of pre-cum spills onto my tongue.
“Luna,” he growls. “Fuck.”
I find an awkward rhythm, sucking on him as tenderly as I can, drawing him further and further into my mouth, using my tongue and my hands to stroke him.
It doesn’t take long. Gage lets out a groan as his cock jerks. Hot liquid jets into my throat, flooding my mouth with his milky seed. I swallow as much as I can, suckling gently on his softening shaft until I’ve taken all of his essence.
It takes him a few minutes to recover. His eyes are bloodshot as he weaves his fingers through my hair. “Have I told you yet today how much I love you?” he asks huskily.
I smile and think about it for a few seconds. “Twenty-two times.”
“I like this kind of yoga.” He sits up and peels off my top, then proceeding to pull off my shorts and panties. “My turn.” He grabs a towel and lays it over my yoga mat. Then he takes a small bottle of massage oil and unscrews the top. He helps me into position, so I’m laying on my stomach on top of the towel.
He uses the oil to massage my back, rubbing the tension from my muscles.
“Oh, that feels so good.”
He massages my shoulders, my arms, then he moves to my legs, getting me completely covered in oil. Moving my legs wider, his fingers glide intimately over my pussy. Everywhere. Until I’m warm and wet and slippery.
Gage lifts my hips so I’m on my knees with my knees apart and my head resting on the towel. I arch back, giving him everything he wants. From behind, he licks my pussy in long strokes, pushing his tongue greedily into me. He licks me everywhere, pressing his tongue into every secret cove. Then he draws on my clit with his mouth, nursing gently.
The pleasure from his mouth takes me to a high brink. I’m so close. He pulls away and I feel his thick, fully-revived cock sliding into me, stretching me fully to receive his massive length, thrusting deep. The heavy invasion does what it always does. It tips me into a lush orgasm that squeezes and grips him until he groans and comes again in throbbing surges, pumping me full of his seedy liquid heat.
When the last spasms of his release calm, Gage rolls us to our sides, spooning me and cradling me in his arms, his big bulk still wetly insinuated deep inside me.
“Thank you for healing me,” I whisper. “And enlightening me.”
He holds me close, kissing my face as he whispers the words. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you for existing and giving me a reason to live. You’re beautiful. You kill me with your sweet perfection. I love you to the moon and back, my Luna. You’re the one.”
It’s a strange thing, that you can live a life for twenty-seven years and not feel anything. And that you can then wake up the very next day and suddenly feel everything. On fucking steroids. I never thought I would turn into my father but that’s basically what’s happened, overnight. Except I think I’m even worse. I’ll give her the world and I’ll kill anyone who touches her. I don’t remember my father being the jealous type. He was too distracted by his crazy projects and his own thoughts.