well, forever. She wanted him more than she’d wanted anyone. Ever.
He shoved her skirt higher, reached between her legs and stroked her through her panties.
“Oh. Yes. Yes.”
He slid two fingers beneath the elastic to find where she was wet for him, and she lost complete control, crying out, moaning, managing garbled syllables.
“I’ve wanted you so long,” Gage breathed. “I never let myself know how much.”
“I know,” she said. There was so much here. Too much. Her body responded as though someone had blown open a door that had been barricaded shut. She rocked against his fingers. He held her gaze. She felt pinned to him, locked to the feeling only he could give her. She was afraid she might never, ever get enough.
She felt the twining sensation of her body warming up for release.
I could come with him. The fact startled her. She handled her own climaxes, pushing herself over the edge after her partner came or sometimes just before. A minor glitch in her system, but many women didn’t come during intercourse. Or at least not all the time. It was fine. She was in charge of her own pleasure and maybe that was best. No disappointment that way.
Except now she seemed ready to fly through space at Gage’s touch. Which thrilled her and scared her.
And distracted her.
“Are you okay?” Gage stilled, sensing her hesitation. He looked at her, not allowing her to escape.
“I’m just…I’m on the pill. Are you healthy?” The birth control discussion would buy her time.
“I’m good,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” she said, going for his belt, fighting to get back in the groove.
He gently eased his fingers away from her spot and stopped her hand. “What just happened, Sugar?”
“Nothing,” she said, embarrassed that he’d noticed. “I guess I expect Oliver to interrupt us with a call.”
He smiled at the joke, but he was watching her. “Do we need to be interrupted?”
“Of course not. Friends with benefits is definitely the way to go. We—”
Amazingly enough, the phone did ring. They stared at it, then at each other and burst out laughing.
She fell to the side beside Gage, who picked up the phone. “Yes?…Oh, hello, Chef Winslow.” He grinned at her, then focused on the caller. “The meal was wonderful. We enjoyed it very much…Yes. Very moist…Definitely…Yes, a terrific choice for the menu. Absolutely. No problem…thanks again.”
He hung up and looked down at her lying beside him.
“The chef?” she asked.
“Yep. He’s working up a low-carb menu. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we hadn’t tried the cheesecake. Wait.” He slid his finger across a spot on her suit, then licked it. “Excellent.”
He ran his gaze down her body, making her feel naked, even though her jacket had fallen closed and she still wore her skirt, then he seemed to gather himself, get control. “Probably good we got interrupted, huh? We’re not thinking clearly.”
“Forget thinking,” she said. “Let’s finish what we started.” She moved to kiss him, but the expression on his face stopped her cold. He wanted more than just sex.
Sex was all Sugar could offer him.
Which meant he would go. Cold fear clawed at her. “I don’t want you to leave Spice It Up,” she said softly.
“How can I stay?” He took her hand, linked their fingers.
Things change. People change. Even Gage could change. She understood that clearly. “But I’ll need your help.”
“The franchise is a bad idea, Sugar.”
Thinking fast, she came up with a solution. “We need time. You said it yourself. We have to let things sink in before we make any decisions.”
“How much time?” Gage said, his eyes searching hers.
“A month. Until the travel convention. Give me a month to convince you franchising is the way to go.” A month to convince him to stay.
“Franchising won’t work, Sugar.”
“You have a month to prove it to me.”
“Are you serious?”
“You can’t just walk away, Gage. Not yet.”
They were great partners, dammit. Great partners hips didn’t grow on trees. She refused to think beyond that, not while Gage still looked at her, his eyes clear and hot, and held her hand so tightly she never wanted him to let go.
That’s what had happened. She’d been trying to hold on to him, and that need had turned sexual. It was just human nature. As simple and conquerable as that.
SUGAR WANTED MORE TIME.
So did Gage. He’d been foolish, pushing for too much too fast. Had he thought he was in some romantic movie with violins and pink sunsets? Lord. This was Sugar, who treated men like library books—check ’em out and turn ’em in before they’re due.
On the other hand, they’d had twelve years. If they were meant to be together, wouldn’t it have happened by now? Maybe he was grasping at straws.
No. Something wonderful had brimmed in Sugar’s green eyes when he’d touched her—surprised hope. Arousal, too, which he’d loved. Then she seemed to scare herself. What exactly frightened her? How she felt? Or what she’d seen in his face?
“One month, huh?” One month to decide. One month to get her to fall in love with him.
A month of making love? God, how he wanted that.
But Sugar hid behind sex—rushed into it, used it, ironically enough, to keep people away. Except she hadn’t kept him away. He’d seen that, too, in her face. Connection, closeness. Was that what scared her?
Maybe she hid her fear behind detachment. What did she say about her parents’ divorce? Nothing stays the same. Love and let go. He didn’t buy that. It had to be fear that made Sugar crave motion.
If he could only show her another way, make her see that if she would just hold still for a second, happiness could settle around her.
Since everything between them was negotiated, it was his turn to propose terms. Think, man. Get it together.
But he could still taste her sweet breasts on his tongue, feel her lush wetness under that slip of underwear, where she was soft and needy and eager.
Say something rational.
She was waiting, her cheeks pink, her breasts peeking
