Reading Online Novel

Torn:Billionaire Bachelors Club #2(13)



If it happens again, then I'll contact the police. For now, I'm letting it lie.

Huh. I wonder if the cameras caught Gage and me last night? My cheeks  heat at the thought of seeing the two of us kissing in the front  entrance, me plastered against the door . . .

Deciding to check the other cameras, I click quickly through the feeds,  rewinding and fast-forwarding through the last few days, momentarily  startled to notice that business is definitely picking up during the  early lunch crowd. I usually don't come out and help behind the counter  until around twelve thirty, but customers are coming in even earlier,  the place looking packed around eleven thirty.

I know by the daily tallies that business is increasing, but seeing the evidence makes it even more real.

Great. Business is picking up, and I'm thrilled. But are Gage and I on the camera feed or what?

Continuing my search, my heart starts racing when I don't find any  evidence of the two of us, when really there should be. The camera  system cost a bundle when we initially purchased it, but the monthly  maintenance fee isn't that bad and worth the expense. Though maybe I  should reassess. Who really needs a camera on the kitchen? Really the  only people who are in there are me and Gina and our handful of  employees.

Right. And me and Gage last night . . .

Sitting up straight, I go to the kitchen camera feed, my head pounding  as I scroll back to approximately ten o'clock last night. I start to  fast-forward again, slower this time, until a horrified gasp escapes me.

Gage, with his back to the camera and still clad in his suit, his big  hands holding my arms above my head as he kisses me senseless.

Arousal drips through me, slow as honey, and I lean my forearm on the  edge of my desk. My mouth goes dry as I watch us. I feel like a voyeur  even though I know it's me. And Gage. I can almost feel his lips on  mine, our tongues touching, my hand buried in his hair-

"You have a phone call." Gina peeks her head around my office door, and I  squeal, clicking out of the camera feed so quick I swear I strained my  finger.

"Holy crap, you scared me." I rest my hand against my chest, feeling my  rapidly beating heart. If she'd come inside, she probably would've seen  the footage. How could I explain that?

And how the hell do I get rid of it?         

     



 

"Didn't mean to." She lingers in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Who is it?" I ask, breathing deep, smoothing a shaky hand over my hair  as I try to gain some composure. Watching the video of Gage and me  together has me rattled. And I didn't even really get to see anything.

I saw enough, though, to remember just how good he made me feel.

"I don't know. I happened to pick it up when I went out to the front and  he didn't leave a name. Just asked for you." Gina leaves without saying  anything else, and I reach for the phone.

"Hello, this is Marina." The person on the other end is silent for so long I wonder if they've hung up. "Hello?"

"Hey," the word is breathed out, the voice undeniably familiar.

"Gage?" I tighten my fingers around the receiver, startled he's calling  me. I thought he'd hate me, after what I did to him. "Um . . ."

"Yeah, this is awkward. Listen, I talked to Archer about you."

I'm stunned. Why would he still talk to Archer about me? "You did?"

"He's willing to meet with you sometime next week. He said for you to  call his direct number at the office and you two can set up a meeting.  You want the number?" Gage asks, sounding efficient. Very business as  usual.

Nothing at all like the man who held me in his arms last night,  murmuring filthy words in my ear while he pushed inside me so deep I  thought I might splinter in two.

"Yes, I want it. Let me grab a pen." I find a notepad and pen and jot  down the number Gage rattles off, his deep voice sending tingles  sweeping over my suddenly too-hot skin.

Just hearing him talk on the phone and I'm a goner. This is so ridiculous.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I ask, clutching the phone so tight I know my knuckles are white. "I-"

"Treated me like crap last night? Yes, you did." He pauses, as if  struggling with whether he should say something or not, and I silently  urge him to go ahead and just say it. I don't care what it is. I might  get angry but . . . I doubt it.

Or the anger will just be rapidly chased by arousal, so hey, that works too, right?

The man has turned me into a sick, twisted woman.

I want to apologize to him for being such a bitch last night and kicking  him out, but I just can't find it in me to say I'm sorry. And that  makes me feel like an even bigger bitch. "I panicked," I say instead.

"Because we had sex in the kitchen of your bakery?"

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall to my desk, thumping my forehead on the thick pile of papers. "Yes," I agree weakly.

"I know. I did too."

He didn't seem panicked. He'd been really sweet and aggressive and sexy  and gentle. I've never had sex against a wall in my life. I've never  been touched, kissed, fucked-yes definitely never fucked-like that ever.  Ever, ever, ever.

So it blows my mind that something so crazy, so absolutely, terrifyingly wonderful, happened with a man I don't really like.

You like him when he has his hands all over your body and his tongue in your mouth.

Lifting my head, I open my eyes and scowl, banishing the nasty little  voice inside my head and focus instead on the man I'm talking to.

"I know you regret what happened, and I feel bad for pushing myself on  you," he explains. "So I thought I'd call up Archer and get this handled  for you. It's the least I can do."

I don't regret what happened. Well, maybe I do a little, but who regrets  great sex? "You didn't really push yourself on me. And thank you," I  whisper, feeling a little choked up because really, the man could've  told me to fuck off and die and I wouldn't have blamed him. I would've  deserved it.

"You're welcome." He pauses, again as if he's struggling with what to  say next, and I get it. I feel the same way. "I'll uh, see you around."

Panic flares. I can't let him go. Not like this. "Wait a minute! Don't I, um . . . owe you dinner?"

He remains quiet, but I can hear him breathing. "You don't owe me anything, Marina."

I love the way he says my name, his deep voice seeming to caress every  letter. Holy crap, do I have it bad for a man I don't like. "It's the  least I can do," I murmur, throwing his words back at him. Maybe . . .  maybe we can see each other again. One more time. It wouldn't hurt,  right? And I need to make it up to him, how awful I was. How I basically  forced him to leave.

We had amazing sex, and then we were almost angry over it. Like we resented each other or something. So weird.         

     



 

I'm tired of feeling resentful. Can't we just . . . enjoy this connection?

"You're serious." He sounds incredulous. I'm not surprised.

"A deal's a deal, right?" Reaching for my mouse, I bring the security  site back up, pleased to see I didn't exit completely out of it after  all. The screen is right where I left it, me being held captive by Gage  against the wall. I speed it up a bit, to the part where I can see we're  completely naked. My legs are wound around his waist, my heels digging  into his perfect, flexing ass as he pushes deep inside me.

I'm transfixed. Watching us having sex, having him on the phone, it's like Gage overload.

"You don't owe me this. I don't want you throwing this dinner back in my  face like you're prone to do," he says grumpily. "Considering how you  believe I always have ulterior motives."

I let the insult fly, too enamored with the sound of his voice while  watching him hammer inside of me on the computer screen. I squirm in my  seat, feeling like a complete pervert at, what, just after eight in the  morning? "I won't throw it back in your face," I swear to him, not sure  if I can really keep that promise. "I guess it all depends if you say  something stupid to me. Like you're prone to do."

Ha. We sound like little kids fighting on the playground.

Thankfully, he ignores my dig as well. "I'm leaving for San Francisco tomorrow, so how about tonight?"

"Tonight?" I hit pause again on the screen and turn it off, turning away  from my computer so I won't be distracted. "That's kind of last  minute." Like I have any plans.

"I know. It's either that or we wait until early next week, when I get back."

I can't wait that long. I want to see him, which I sort of hate. I  absolutely shouldn't want to do this. But my humming body more than  wants to see him. "Fine. Tonight," I say curtly, wincing when I hear my  tone so I try and soften it. "That sounds . . . fun."

He laughs. The jackass. "Yeah, you sound thrilled. Look I'm going to try  and get Archer to accompany us. He can bring his fiancé."

"Wait, what? You want Archer to go to dinner with us?" Okay, I hadn't  bargained on that. I'm going to have to be on my A-game if that happens.  I might even have to present my proposition to him, and I'm not quite  ready to discuss it yet. I still need to handle a few details.