He does a double take in that naughty direction. “On second thought, I think you might be right.” Logan moves his hips over mine as he walks me backward, and my lips come shy of taking a bite of those ropey muscles buried in his neck. “A wise man once said to me that great love requires great sacrifice.” He dots a kiss to my nose as he sends me sailing backward. “Have a great rest of the night, Skyla. I hope you find what you’re lookingfor.”
I smack into a wall of granite and turn to find the exact person I was hoping to avoid and shockingly it isn’t Chloe—it’sGage.
“Hello, beautiful.” His voice strums erotically deep, and somehow it doesn’t come across like some cheesy pickup line. His lids hood low and there is no mistaking his sexual intent. But that desperate ache Gage has worn so long for me like a mask seems to be missing. This is a different version of my husband, one in control, one who knows what he wants and understands in no uncertain terms that he is about to getit.
“Look”—I try to untangle myself from his power grip—“I’m not in any mood to listen to what you might have to say.” In truth, I fear the words that will spill from his lips. It has never been my stubborn streak rearing its ugly head when it comes to hearing him out as much as it’s been a demon of fear with its wings spread over me like aplague.
“I’m not interested in talking to you,” he says it quick and deliberate while his arms cinch over me like a vise. “I’m interested in doing other things with you this evening.” His fingers press in just enough, and a spark jumps from him, igniting the fuse that runs straight to that aching part of me that’s been so desperate to have him. In truth, not Marshall—not even Logan, could have satisfied this itch. My flesh simply craved my other half. The very flesh that abides in covenant with me for better or for worse, and we had certainly hit the very worse—a far lower of a plummet than either of us could have anticipated. “I missyou.”
He comes in as if he’s about to land a kiss over my lips, but he turns his head ever so slightly and rubs his scruffy stubble over my cheek, hard and searingly hot, and I give an audible gag as I gasp for my next breath. Hot damn. Gage Oliver has loosened the shackles of any politeness that might have resided in him. Tonight, this is a far more commanding, demanding, rough around the celestial edges version of him coming out to play—only he’s not playing at all. Gage Oliver means fucking business, and the first order of fucking would be with, well—me.
“Tonight, you are mine, Skyla.” He pulls back and presses those cobalt eyes into me. “We are more than the sum total of any definition the universe wants to crown us with. We are husband and wife. We have the ability to overcome whatever the powers that be decide to fling our way. We are the masters of our own destinies. We don’t wear the coat of affliction when we’re together. Instead, we dance across the stage of life as one.” His hands grip me tight, and my body sizzles as it begs to havehim.
“Wow,” I say breathless, my lips inching closer to the home of his mouth. “Sounds like you and Chloe have been smoking from the same crackpipe.”
His left dimple digs in deep as he expels the slightest rumble of a laugh. “I hear Chloe has kept my bed warm forme.”
“She’s not as skilled as you are, but you know what they say—keep your friends close and your enemiescloser.”
His head tilts to the side, and a harsh neon green light from above offers him an alien illumination. “That’s funny. I’m going to keep you pretty closetonight.”
“How close?” My body quivers as if begging for me to forgive him—or in the least overlook a few couple hundred indiscretions so we can finally get a little relief aroundhere.
“Damn close.” Gage bears down on me with a drunk gaze as he leans in and brushes his lips over my temple. His arms latch over my back, and he pulls me with a greedy aggression I have never seen before. “I’m going to come inside you, Skyla.” His voice is heavy and heated in my ear, and I shiver. There’s nothing like a good double entendre to twist the cords of desire even tighter. “There’s no escaping this tonight. You will lie down in my bed. I am not taking no for ananswer.”
My entire body morphs into one giant heartbeat as that current he’s unleashed jumps from my fingers all the way down to my toes. Of course, if I wanted him to take no for an answer, he damn well would but, well, I have far more sexually sinister intentions to dealwith.
An arm pulls me off him abruptly, but my gaze remains locked over his. “Mybed,” I shoot right back just as a girl with ratted pink hair attaches herself to him and begins gyrating away as if he were a vaginal itchingpost.
Melody Winters. I’d recognize that sexual distress signal anywhere. But instead of pulling her off my man, my thumb curls around the ring on my finger as the stone lights up electric. She’s already tried to pry it off my hand once. There’s no way I’m about to give her another chance. This ring has power—straight from the throne of God, literally. I can’t surrender it to her now. At this point, who cares about the fact Chloe swiped it from some long-deceased cranky granny? As soon as Melody called me a time traveling thief, I bolted from the Gas Lab. I had far better things to do than listen to someone berate my past sins. Yes, what Logan and I did was wrong—hey, how did she know about that, anyway? And technically, I was a murderer. A thief is far too light a title for what Logan and I pulled off all those tumultuous years ago. A thought comes to me as I stare down at the glowing stone, the exact color of Gage Oliver’s eyes. I give a quick glance around and find the dicey Bishop herself laughing it up with her brother, and I speed onover.
“Chloe?” I land the ring between us like the stumbling block it’s proving to be. “You said this ring was gifted to you. Who gave it to you?” I know whose rotten-toothed finger it once sat on, but I think it’s time I get the low down and dirtydetails.
Her head immediately jerks to where Gage is currently trying to deflect Melody and her acrobatic endeavors, impressive as they might be—all moves my body wishes it could employ on himmyself.
“Melody thinksIstole this,” I hiss into Chloe’sface.
Brody takes my hand and stares into it as the blue glow reflects off his eyes. “Melody Winters’ring?”
“It’s mine now.” I’m quick to retract my hand. “Speak up, Bishop. Why did that booty shaking skank accuse me of being a time traveling thief?” How would Melody know anything about that dive bar Chloe and I visited during our first nefarious light drive as a dynamicduo?
Her mouth opens, and for once Chloe Bishop is short onlies.
“Here you are.” Gage lands his arm over my chest, grazing my nipples in the process, and a deep, guttural groan evicts fromme.
Chloe’s cheeks pinch with color as if it were her own nipples getting a little Oliver action. “I’d love to carry on a conversation with you, Skyla, but it looks as if you’ll be busy for the rest of the night.” She bites the air with the innuendo. “We’ll solve the mystery of the stolen bling another time.” She flicks her middle finger in the air as she carts Brody off. “Have enough fun for the both of us, would you?” She gives a sly wink, and just like that, the ring goes dark as if Chloe’s ridiculous eyeball malfunction had the power to kill it like a lightswitch.
Gage presses his crotch into my back, and I feel him there, that hardness, that thick line of wanting impressing into myflesh.
“Now,” he whispers hot into my ear, and my eyes close. The room spins beneath me, and when I open my lids, I find we’re no longer in the loud, raucous bowling alley surrounded by big hair and leg warmers, but in the sanctity of our ownbedroom.
“Impressive.” I twist into him, and those daring eyes of his latch onto mine with this newfound bravado he’s pumped fullof.
The door slams and locks, and the dresser presses violently over the entrance as if on its ownvolition.
“I see you’re going old school.” My heart thumps hard because Gage Oliver is a show of force tonight. I knew his Fem standing afforded him a few powers here and there, but God Almighty, things have changed since we’ve beenapart.
Music strums softly from some mysterious locale, the lights dim low, and the comforter whips violently from thebed.
