A spoonful of something cold and dense spread across his tongue. Dark chocolate and bold coffee flavors, bitter and sweet.
“Tiramisu,” Scar said.
Gage laughed. “That’s a bit too rich, and I’m not a big coffee lover.”
“Noted,” Scar said, setting the plate down and picking up another. “This is the last one.”
The final bite was chewy and sticky. Layered with syrupy-honey and a nutty flavor, maybe pistachio. He was fascinated by how the textures kept changing the more he ate.
“Baklava.”
As if Scar could see how much he liked that one, he fed him another piece, then another. He would’ve eaten it all, but now he craved something else.
His body was hyperaware of Scar beside him, his heat, his energy. The way Scar’s mouth kept brushing his between bites, stealing kisses and licking the sweetness off his lips, had him worked up.
He curled his fingers into Scar’s shirt as he wrapped his hand behind his neck, pulling him closer.
Their kiss tasted like vanilla and citrus, decadent and tart. Scar’s tongue traced his lower lip before he delved back inside.
Gage was shaking with excitement—from being handled, teased, and cherished all at the same time.
His body was being loud and clear about what it wanted.
He climbed onto Scar’s lap, breathing hard into his mouth. “I want you. All of you, right now…please.”
Scar groaned as if he was in bliss, but he gripped Gage’s hips, locking him in place.
He jerked back, disappointed and confused. “Why do you keep…?” His voice cracked. “What am I doing wrong? I thought you brought me here because we were gonna’…”
Scar pressed his finger gently to his lips.
Gage quieted, trying to calm his frustration.
Scar took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself.
“I brought you here,” he said, barely above a whisper, “to tell you, and show you…how much I love you.”
Gage froze.
Scar took one of his hands and brought it to his lips, kissing his knuckles.
“I’ve never loved anyone in my life, not even myself,” Scar said. “I was crazy about you from the moment I saw you. I knew you were…innocent. Kind and good. Where I came from, I never thought I’d know someone like you. Have someone like you. I don’t want just one night.”
Gage blinked at the moisture forming in his eyes.
Scar reached for his other hand and wrapped it tight in his. “I want you every night,” he said. “Forever. For the rest of our lives.”
Scar guided his hand toward what he was holding. Gage closed it over a small velvet cradle with a hinge opening.
A ring box.
He gasped as he traced his fingertips over a smooth band of metal.
Gage’s head swam so hard he thought he might pass out.
Scar moved off the couch, and the next thing he felt was Scar lowering himself to the floor between his legs—on one knee.
Scar cupped his face, and Gage trembled harder as calloused thumbs grazed along his jaw.
