"Fuck, Lacey—" Gage's control started to crack. His thrusts got harder, faster, losing their rhythm. "So good—you feel—the way you're squeezing me—"
"Don't stop," I begged, still riding the waves. "I want to feel you. Want to feel you inside me."
He groaned, a rough sound torn from deep in his chest. "Where—tell me where—"
"Inside," I managed, locking my ankles behind his back. "Come inside me. Please, Gage—"
That broke him. He buried himself deep, face pressed to my neck, and I felt the hot pulse of him as he came. Felt every twitch, every spasm, felt him filling me. The intimacy of it—nothing between us, his release deep inside my body—made me shudder with aftershocks.
"Jesus," he breathed against my skin. "Lacey—"
For a long moment, we just lay there tangled together, both of us breathing hard, hearts racing in sync. He was still inside me, softening slowly, and I felt the slide of our combined wetness when he finally shifted.
Gage lifted his head to look at me, and something soft passed across his face. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, my nose, my lips.
"Give me a second," he murmured.
He pulled out carefully, and I felt the rush of warmth between my thighs—proof of what we'd just done. He disappeared into my bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth, cleaning us both with a gentleness that made my chest tight.
Then he collapsed onto the bed beside me and pulled me against his chest.
"That was..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish.
"Yeah." His hand traced lazy patterns on my shoulder. "It was."
We lay in comfortable silence for a while. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, and the fear that had been dogging me since Friday night felt farther away.
"I need to ask you something," Gage said eventually.
I tilted my head to look at him. "Okay."
"Let me install security on that studio door. Proper deadbolt, camera in the stairwell, motion light outside." He met my gaze. "I know you're worried about losing control. About owing me something. But you don't. You make the final decisions—what gets installed, where, when. It's still your space, your classes. I just want to help make it safer for everyone."
Either Boyd or Dad would've just done it. Would've shown up with equipment and installed it without asking, then used it as proof that I needed him.
Gage wasasking.
But the fear was still there. The niggle of worry that this was how it started—small concessions that turned into bigger ones until I wasn't making my own choices anymore.
His hand cupped my face. "You make the decisions, Lacey. I just want to help implement them. And if you decide you don't want my involvement after all, that's your choice too. No pressure. No strings."
The distinction mattered. More than he probably knew.
"Okay," I said slowly. "But we do it together. You don't just show up and do stuff without talking to me first. We discuss it, we decide together, and it's still my space and my business."
"Deal." He kissed me, slow and sweet this time. "Partners?"
"Partners."
We fell asleep like that—his arm around me, my head on his chest, both of us finally breathing easy.
I didn't dream about the shadow at the window.
I dreamed about the way my name sounded in Gage’s low voice when he was buried deep inside me, and the terrifying, thrilling possibility that maybe—just maybe—I could be strong and independent and still let someone care about me.
And I was falling for him faster than seemed safe or smart or remotely sensible. And I wasn’t sure I cared.
Chapter Four
