Stroke of Love (12 page)

She moaned, or mewed. She had no idea which. Whatever she did, it drew him back with intense pleasure in his eyes.

“I’m not playing, Kate,” he said in a serious tone.

“Me neither,” she managed. She pressed her hips to his.
Nope. Not playing
. Though he could be. The man was as hard as a baseball bat.

He ran his thumb along her jaw and softly kissed her lips. “I gotta work off this anger and apologize to Penelope.”

“What? Penelope? Why?”
Zap!
Just like that, her brain kicked into high gear.

He looked away. “I brushed her off last night, and she slept with Clayton.” He met her gaze again. “And Cassidy.”

“But…Wow. Wait. How is that your fault?”

“Because women have all kinds of crazy shit in their hea—” He must have caught her glare, because he corrected himself immediately. “Because the last thing she needs is to feel less about herself. She’s weak, insecure. I don’t want to feed into that.” He cupped her cheek. “Don’t worry. I only have eyes for you, but I won’t sleep well until I tell her I didn’t turn her down because she wasn’t attractive. She’s not, to me. I mean she’s not my type, but…Oh hell, Kate. I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m gonna tell her it was because I really like you. Period. Okay?”

She nodded, caught between feeling like he was the sweetest man on earth and the most naive.

“Can I see you later?” he asked.

She nodded again, unable to speak. If she opened her mouth again, she’d likely tell him what she thought.
Penelope made her own choice. She is an adult, and nothing you say will change what she did
. Shit, she’d probably do it again in a heartbeat. But that wasn’t what she wanted to say to him.

“You’re a good man, Sage. Too good,” she admitted. Her feelings for him felt like tiny beads of hope sending chills right through her.

“Not
too
good. Trust me on that.” He winked and it set fire to her belly.

Oh my
. She watched her alpha badass walk away and swore she saw a little piece of her heart in his back pocket.

AFTER A HUNDRED push-ups and a hundred sit-ups, Sage stepped beneath the pathetic stream of water that passed for a shower and finally let out the frustrated breath that had been festering within him. He set his palms against the shower wall and let the water bead the tension from his shoulders. When that didn’t work, he let his mind do it for him.
Goddamn Clayton. He’s slime, the lowest of the low. Pathetic
. Feeling mildly better, he soaped himself clean, his thoughts drifting to Kate and to the feel of her in his arms, her legs wrapped around him. Just the thought was enough to arouse him. He debated his situation, eyed the impotent drip of the water and his definitely
not
impotent body part.
Well, hell
. He rinsed off and tried to think of anything other than Kate. Fat chance at that.

Twenty minutes later, with his anger under wraps and his desire for Kate simmering, he left his cabin in search of Penelope. He cursed his mother for instilling manners into his thick head. Why couldn’t he be like most men and turn his back on whatever drove Penelope into bed with Clayton and Cassidy? He knew damn well why. Ever since his sister was born, he’d been protective of her. Siena was one of New York’s top models. And still he worried about her. He’d known enough models and actresses to know that beneath the confident, beautiful exterior, there often lurked a weak, insecure individual. He hadn’t ever seen any indication of that from Siena, but he knew how hard his parents had pushed her to believe in herself. Siena was bullheaded and strong in every sense of the word, despite her willowy exterior.
Sort of like Kate
. Still, his mother’s words from the time he was a small boy resonated in his mind. They’d usually come on the heels of him calling Siena a stupid girl.
It’s not your job to tear your sister down. It’s your job to build her up. The rest of the world does enough damage to women’s egos. Don’t be part of that effort, Sage.
Swap
Sage
for any of his brothers’ names. It didn’t matter. His mother’s message was loud and clear, no matter who it was directed to. Respect women and help them respect themselves.

He blew out a breath before knocking on the door of Penelope’s cabin. She opened the door holding a battery-driven fan in front of her face.

“You change your mind?” She flashed a seductive smile and arched a brow.

No chance in hell
. He had no idea why women like Penelope turned him off so vehemently, but he felt like he was standing in front of a lioness about to pounce. Oh wait, yeah, he knew why he felt that way. Another one of his mother’s life lessons.
A girl who respects herself will always respect you. Leave those who don’t for the men who have no respect for themselves either.

“Actually, I came to apologize.”

She opened the door and moved aside to let him by.

Sage hesitated, then nodded and took a step inside, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. The minute he did, she closed the door, and the walls pressed in on him. She stepped closer, and he took a step backward, slamming into the rough wall.

“Penelope, please.” He held a palm up between them. “I’m not here for…”

“No?” She narrowed her blue eyes, then ran them down his body, settling just below his waist, and drew them back up slowly to meet his gaze. “What, then?”

Sage felt cheap, dirty, as if he were on display, and vowed never to do
that
to a woman again. He slid out around her so he was clear of the wall. “I came to apologize. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad the other night. The truth is—”

“Bad? Is that what you think?” She turned off the fan and tossed it on the bed, then crossed her arms and jutted out her right hip. “You don’t have the power to make me feel bad.” She lifted her chin insistently.

“Fair enough.”
The hell with this
. “Then I’ll be on my way.” He turned and reached for the door.

“Besides, Clayton is more of a man than you are any day.”

Ouch. Fuck
. His neck muscles and jaw clenched. Unwilling to stoop to her level, he turned and said with as gracious of a feigned smile as he could muster, “I’m sure he is.” Then he walked out the door and headed straight for Kate’s cabin.

SAGE’S PULSE KICKED up as he ascended the stairs to Kate’s cabin, a handful of freshly picked flowers in his hand. He had no idea what they were, but the reds and oranges were too vibrant to pass up. The wooden door to her room was open, the screen door closed, giving him a clear view inside—of the colorful scarves that had his mind running down a dangerously sexual path. He wasn’t sure if it was the thought of Kate or of everything that had gone on that afternoon, but he felt like a teenager about to go on his first date. Even his damn stomach was fluttering. What the hell was up with that? A seductively fresh, floral scent traveled through the screen, amping up his nervousness.

He heard Kate humming before he saw her pass in front of the screened door wearing only a towel, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. She bent over to pull on her thong, lifting one leg and then the other and flashing Sage an eyeful of her beautiful ass. He needed to turn around, or let her know he was there, but his legs were rooted to the ground, his voice stuck beneath a big tangle of lust. His desire flared, making him hungry for her and hard as a rock.
Christ
.

She dropped the towel, revealing the most exquisite back he’d ever laid eyes on and the most delicious-looking dimples at the base of her spine. Dimples he’d like to run his tongue over. She shimmied into a tank top. Just knowing she didn’t have a bra on beneath the sheer material almost made him lose it. He forced himself to turn away. His feet shuffled, causing Kate to spin around.

“Sage?”

He closed his eyes.
Fuck.
He was caught. Luck was not on his side tonight. Without turning around, he said, “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to see…Really, I tried to turn away, but—”

“But my beauty was too much?”

Her sarcasm caught him off guard and sent him spinning on his heel to face her.

“Yes.”
Holy shit.
Her wet hair covered her shoulders and fell over her breasts in tangled strands. Her tank top barely covered her hips. Sage realized he was looking at her body the same way Penelope had leered at his.
Shit
. “Jesus Christ, Kate.” Out of respect, he turned his face away. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

She opened the screen door, and he turned back toward her. She was nibbling on her lower lip, her cheeks flushed pink. Each time he saw her, he was more drawn to her. She could be wearing a paper bag and she’d turn him on. It was more than her physical beauty that reeled him in. It was the million different ways she looked at him, the way her insecurities lay beneath her thick, confident exterior, too deep for most to recognize and too close to the surface for him to miss. He stepped inside, and his hand fell naturally to her waist as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. She turned in to the kiss, and hell if he wasn’t going to kiss her back. Deeply. Passionately. In a way he wasn’t sure he could stop. She tasted fresh, minty, deliciously sensual. Each stroke of her tongue brought his body closer to hers. His hand slipped over the thin line of her thong, lingering at the curve of her hip, and it wasn’t enough. Despite his desire to go slow and share a walk, a meal, something more than their bodies, he had to have more of her.
So much more
. He grabbed her ass and pulled her against him. Holy hell. With only a thong between them, she might as well have been completely naked. She moaned against his lips, a sexy, aching sound that cried,
Yes. More. Please.
Sage kicked the wooden door closed without breaking their kiss, then swooped her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed, hovering above her, their bodies so close he could feel her legs trembling.

The desire in her beautiful eyes left no room for misinterpretation. He brushed her wet hair from her face. “I wanted to wine and dine you.”

She bit her lower lip. “Not necessary.”

“But this isn’t just sex. You have to know that.”

She placed her palm over his racing heart. “I feel it.”

He settled his mouth over hers again, sliding his hand up her shirt to her rib cage. His thumb brushed over her nipple. She gasped a breath, and he pulled back from the kiss, rested his forehead on hers, and closed his eyes, giving them both a moment to catch their breath.

“You feel so good, Kate.” He listened to the sound of her rapid breathing, felt her fingers traveling to his back, running sexily along his ribs and spurring him on to take more. His lips found her cheek, her neck, the spot beneath her earlobe that made her shoulders rise. “Let me love you,” he whispered.

“Yes. Like your shirt says.”

Sage pulled back with a smile. “What?”

She bit her lower lip again. Goddamn, she was cute.

“Your shirt.
Artists do it one stroke at a time
. Love me one stroke at a time.”

He laughed softly, having completely forgotten what his T-shirt said. It had been a gag gift from his brother Kurt, the writer.

“Absolutely,” he said, then lowered his lips to hers again and kissed her lightly. He pushed her shirt up over her breasts, and for a moment the artist in him was stunned into submission as he drank in her flawless skin and her lovely, gentle curves. He had to close his eyes as he lowered his lips between the perfect mounds of her breasts and pressed a soft kiss to her warm skin before moving his hand to touch her breast and his lips to her nipple. She gasped another breath—the seductive sound stoking the fire he felt for her. He moved to her other breast, and she tangled her hands in his hair.

“Sage,” she whispered, then whimpered when he took her in his mouth while at the same time lowering his hand and grasping her hip.

He ached to be inside her. It took all his concentration to slow his pace and focus on her pleasure. He hooked a finger in her thong and drew it down slowly, feeling the rise of her hips, as she allowed him to slip it off and toss it aside. Jesus, her skin was silky. He kissed his way down her belly to the softness beside her belly button, where he licked a path, then ran his thumb over the wetness and pressed it to the perfect indentation beside her hip. She moaned again, and he loved knowing he was bringing her such pleasure. Her knees fell open, her hands met his shoulders, urging him lower, but Sage was a patient man, and when he wanted to be, he could be a patient lover. At that moment, having the entire night ahead of them, he wanted nothing more than to love every inch of her. He was in no rush to have this extraordinary pleasure over with, no matter how tempting it was to ease his own need.

He ran his hand up her right thigh, brushing his thumb along her damp center. Her wetness sent a shock of need through him, which he restrained in pursuit of her pleasure. She writhed beneath him as he teased her with his thumb, grazing her inner thigh with his whiskers. He dragged his tongue along her thigh, feeling her quiver beneath his touch, which made him want to draw out her pleasure even more. She arched her hips, urging him on.

“Sage,” she whispered again. “Please.”

He lowered his mouth to her, stroking her with his tongue, tasting her sweetness and feeling the sheets beside them pull into her fisted hands. He used his finger to stroke the sensitive nub that caused her thighs to tense and her hips to rise. His free hand rose to her breast, rubbing her nipple between his index finger and thumb and bringing her up over the edge. Her heels dug into the mattress, and her inner muscles pulsated as he slid his fingers inside her, eagerly stroking her with his tongue as his name fell from her lips, time and time again in long, breathless cries. She came down slowly, panting, arcing one arm over her eyes. Knowing she would be overly sensitive, he used his thumb to caress her again.

She gasped. “Oh, Sage. Oh…Oh.”

He slid up her body and took her breast in his mouth, continuing to drive her up toward the edge of another orgasm with his hand. She arched her chest and raised her hips. Her hands clenched the sheets, then found purchase on his back. The pain of her nails was exquisite as she peaked again, her entire body quivering as her hips lifted with each pulsation.