If Not For You (18 page)

I held it up to get a better look, it was delicate and finely handcrafted, it looked like it could be crumpled between your fingers but it was surprisingly strong and had withstood years of wear. It was a testament to strength and power and I would wear it with pride always. I threw my arms around his neck and held on tight until I felt his arms close around me.

“Thanks.”

“I missed you,” he whispered, so quietly I nearly missed it and I had to pull back and take a long look to see who I had my arms around. “I did.”

Not truly convinced I sat quiet. I was never the one to be missed, always going unnoticed, blending in to the background unseen. Mr. Bad Ass missed me? I couldn’t have been hearing right.

“You’re not saying anything,” he said, “say something.”

But my heart didn’t know what to do with what he said, as if it had lost rhythm, skipped a beat and it couldn’t catch up. It fought with whether to rejoice with exhilaration or grieve over a loss. Call it childish if you will, but after days of being placed on the sidelines, I was hurt, dejected and dare I say, lonely. This was a feeling I’d never experienced before and didn’t like.

“What do you want me to say?” I said, stone faced.

“Look I’m no good at this shit. I know I was distracted, but I wanted to wrap it up so we could do Mumbai tomorrow without anything hanging over our heads. I wanted you… I wanted us to have a good time tomorrow.”

“So you still want to go with me?” I asked, as my heart leapt, it actually started to beat again.

“That was the plan,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took hold of my chin and met my eyes, “did you think I’d forget about you?”

“It’s been three days since I saw you last, I figured you lost interest, made other plans,” I said.

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ve been busy but I didn’t turn my back on you, I would never do that. We’re doing Mumbai in the morning, you and me just like we planned.” He pulled me into his hard chest and squeezed me in a bear hug.

“I’m sorry, I thought …”

“Like I said before, you fucking think too much. And stop saying sorry!” He took my face in his hands and mushed our noses together, “do you hear me?”

I nodded my head in his hands and he laughed, making me laugh, it was nice to laugh. Around squished noses I asked, “Do something for me?”

“What?”

“Climb for me?” I nodded toward the wall.

“I’d rather climb you,” he said, and stood adjusting his shorts as he did.

“You’re an ass.”

“There she is…the Tandy I adore is back! I’ll climb this fucking thing for you,” he thumbed toward the wall. “You owe me a back rub, deal?” He put out his hand and I pretended to mull it over in my head, the idea of my hands on his skin? No hesitation here.

“Deal,” I said. He shook my arm violently until he had me in stitches and then grabbed a harness from an area beside the wall. Gage talked to the instructor who helped him strap it on and gave me the thumbs up before taking the first step up.

The view was phenomenal as the harness parted his ass cheeks beautifully, causing the muscles to flex and tighten each time his toes moved to a new footing. With every reach of his arm, his t-shirt rose up to reveal his muscular oblique’s and the bulge between his thighs sat cradled perfectly for a spectators enjoyment.

“I think you’re enjoying this more than me, like what you see?” he hollered, wiggling his butt in the air and laughed.

“Uh huh,” I said, and then jumped aside when he pushed off the wall and flew to the floor in one continuous motion.

He unclipped his harness, removed his gloves and rubbed his hands together.

“My turn.” He grabbed my hand and rushed us away.

He lay on his stomach across my bed with his head and hands hanging over the end. My gut dipped low and I could feel moisture developing between my thighs at the sight of his shirtless back.

I straddled his butt and sat, admired his muscular back and smooth skin and poured a small amount of moisturizer in a puddle where the curve of his back met the globes of his ass cheeks and I gently ran my hands through the lotion and up to his shoulders.

“Mmm…” he moaned, “harder, use a bit of pressure.”

I followed his guidance and kneaded deep into the tissue, running my hands up and down his spine over his shoulders across his back, over and over until my hands were numb and all I could think about were the delectable sounds he was making. His skin so smooth and warm and my panties were drenched beyond belief. I only prayed that once I was finished, there wouldn’t be a wet spot on his shorts where I sat.

“Funs over, I have to stop,” I said.

He whimpered and I climbed off, had a look, whew, no wet spot. “Not yet, baby, please not yet,” Gage begged like a man crawling in the desert for days without water and I laughed.

“No more, I can’t feel my hands.”

He rolled onto his back and pulled me onto his chest and then rolled us both so I was under him. He took my hands on his big hands and massaged lightly for several minutes.

“Can you feel them now?” he asked, and placed a kiss on my chin.

“Can now, thanks.” He kissed me again and lay beside me, still holding my hand.

“Gage, could I ask you something without pissing you off?”

“That’s a loaded question. Obviously you think I’m going to go nuts or something, if it’s that bad maybe you better not ask.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know, so am I…ask, I promise I won’t bite…hard,” he said, and flashed his brows.

“Do you treat all your friends like this? I mean your female friends,” I asked, not knowing how he would take my line of questioning. I needed to know what he thought he was going to accomplish with all this special attention.

“Like what?”

I shrugged, not sure if I should go on, “Flirting, giving kisses, touching?”

“Oh I get it…One,” He held up one finger.

“I don’t have female friends, just you. Two,” He held up two fingers.

“I like you and three,” he held up three fingers. “it’s your fault.”

“My fault? It’s my fault that you do all those things?” How on earth could it be my fault that he was all touchy feely and couldn’t keep his fucking hands to himself and it really, really turned me on?

“I have control issues around you. If I give in just enough to satisfy my inner beast, I can hold it together. I do it or I walk away.” His unexpected seriousness threw me for a loop.

He rolled from the bed and jumped to his feet, pulled his t-shirt over his head and smiled that dimpled smile. I watched him dubiously, was he fucking with me or was any of it true? I couldn’t tell. Mr. Slick was tucking his shirt into the waist of his pants keeping eye contact to a minimum.

“I better go, let’s meet for breakfast, I’ll text you when and where to meet me,” he added, in that exacting sexy tone of his.

“Okay.” I walked with him to the door and when he opened it, he turned and took my face in his hands and stared for endless minutes, then just released me and walked away.

He could be so intense to the point of intimidating. He liked to study me. I caught him doing it a lot, holding his gaze on a particular body part, as if memorizing the detail onto a microchip hidden in the far recesses of his mind.

Looking into the mirror as I brushed my teeth, I thought of what he said about control issues and a need to satisfy the beast. Maybe I did analyze things too much, I needed to just get over it. I liked the attention after all. I took my phone from the bedside table and sent Gage a text.

I really don’t mind, don’t walk away. T.

I won’t, stop thinking so much and go to bed. G.

He was right I do think too much and got into bed with a new book. My new favorite author Jasinda Wilder was going to take me away from my thoughts and distract me for a while, I settled back and started to read.

Day 37

Mumbai

Gage texted asking to meet at Café Corniche on the Dolphin Deck for breakfast, before setting off to tour Mumbai. We both agreed that Mumbai was a must see, one we would most definitely do together since we both saw
Slumdog Millionaire
, loved the movie and wanted to see the city it was based on, up close and personal.

He was already seated and waiting for me when I arrived. He had ordered us coffee and an assortment of mini breakfast pastries; I was impressed with his choices and enjoyed very much a nice cheese Danish with my much needed coffee.

“This is so good,” I said, licking the icing from my lips and taking a sip from my coffee. Gage’s eyes were focused on my mouth; his mouth was curled up slightly on one side. He was so sexy, totally in another world.

“Earth to Gage, come back to me.” Awakening him from his day dream I giggled and he shook his head, snapping from the trance he was in.

“I was lost in thought.” he said, reaching for his cup blowing into it before taking a sip.

“Care to share?” I asked, intrigued.

“Not really. Let’s just say you have a way of distracting me.” He grinned and licked the tip of his tongue seductively through the lemon curd in the center of his Danish and a shot of hot electricity lit me up from my curled toes, to the top of my head.

“As do you,” I said, a little rattled and wiped my napkin across my mouth, for no other reason than to soak up the beads of perspiration that were forming on my upper lip.

Clearly the sexual innuendoes and the tension from last evening were getting to me. All he had to do was look in my direction and I was a puddle at his feet. I was going through more underwear in a day, becoming deliciously wet every time he was near, than I would if I were a toilet training two year old. And my nerve endings were on constant alert, ready to point out to me how sexually aroused this man could make me, giving me a sharp poke and a delightful ache low in my belly.

It was clear that this virgin thing wasn’t quite working for me anymore and if I spent much longer with Mr. Hot Stuff here, I was going to sooner or later wrestle him to the ground and beg him to screw me like the whore of Babylon. I had to keep reminding myself that we were just friends, a crazy debauched kind of friendship, but friends all the same.

He had things stirring in me that I never felt before. I found myself daydreaming about him while I brushed my teeth for Christ’s sake, looking at an article for socks in a magazine, picking out what to wear. Even trimming my toe nails had me thinking all kinds of naughty little thoughts about Gage. He had me totally unraveling. My only question now was, what was
he
thinking about?

“Tandy, Hello?” I jumped from my thoughts and stared distantly at Gage.

“Hey! Where were you?” he asked, laughing.

“I guess I was lost in my thoughts too.”

“Okaaay. It’s time to go though, there’s a taxi waiting for us, you ready?” He stood and held out his hand, I bit the inside of my lip and curled my hand into his as he pulled me to my feet.

We were so close I could feel the heat from his body and smell the coconut scent from his hair. I had to take a deep breath inhaling all that was Gage. He smiled that dimpled smile then narrowed his eyes.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“Uh huh.”

“Sick.”

“And slightly warped,” I giggled, “or so I’ve been told.”

“I hope so,” Gage said, laughing a wickedly wonderful laugh.

“Taxis waiting, let’s get a move on.” He tightened his hold and weaved us through the swarm of passengers waiting for buses and cars to arrive. A man stood at the side of a taxi with a glued on smile and a sign reading Carter. I was pleased to see no long lines to stand in.

Once we reached our destination, Gage telling the driver Mutton Street, we stood on the street of Mumbai looking at each other. With huge smiles, Gage secured his grip on my hand so we wouldn’t get separated in the hoi polloi.

It was loud and car horns honked as cars and people fought their way through the streets. The pavement was crowded and there were peddlers everywhere along the way, selling a huge assortment of items and food. We made our way to Chor Bazaar, what they call Thieves’ Market; this was the place that Gage had told me about. He had read an article in a paper and wanted to see it.

We didn’t say much, it was so loud and there was so much to see that we didn’t have words to say, we pointed out things to each other with curiosity and intrigue instead. There were motor scooters lined up along the walkways, cars couldn’t maneuver around in here, making them the obvious vehicle of choice.

The smells that floated through the air were to die for. The sweet smell of sugary treats and warm candy mixed with the smell of a thousand spices. The hot aroma of curry and incense could be detected in my nostrils as well as on my tongue and in the back of my throat. Odorous perfumes, fragrances and colognes started an assault on my senses and I was starting to feel rather woozy, happy to move away from these particular venders.

After hours of site seeing and trailing through endless venders, Gage stopped at a tiny stall tucked off to the side. He leaned in and asked me my favorite color I answered green, when I turned to see what he was doing he had something hidden in his hand, haggling with a man. When each was happy, Gage handed him a few bills and they shook hands, he slipped something in his pocket and took my hand pulling me back into the crowd.

“What was that about?” I practically yelled.

“Later,” Gage hollered, and kept walking.

We were deep in the stream of people and I was beginning to get an all too familiar headache, I knew I needed to get out of there but didn’t want to ruin Gage’s fun, so I trudged on trying hard to keep it together. But as we walked along being bumped and tousled, I felt I was beginning to lose it, my body and mind weakening before I knew what to do next.

All I remembered was Gage turning around and the look of fear in his eyes, before it all went black.

“Tandy sweetheart, talk to me, Tandy say something.” I could hear his voice, I knew it was him, but my eyes didn’t want to open and the pain in my head was crippling.