Chapter 27 - Double or Nothing

Deira put away the rest of the food while Gage cleared the table. She did not protest when he started doing the dishes. He liked cleaning things, and she didn't. She left him to it and headed to her room. When she returned a few minutes later, he was humming softly.

She stepped up behind him and slid her hands over his back. His shoulders tightened as he grasped the counter. His first instinct had been to fight. Something would have to be done about that. He let the water out of the sink and turned to face her. She ran her hands over his chest and down his arms, grasped his wrists, and lowered herself to her knees.

"I do not think," he started, shaking his head.

"Good." She cut him off. "Try not thinking for once." She stroked his thighs, then rested her cheek on his hip. When she reached up to unfasten his pants, he closed his hand over hers.

"No."

"I seem to remember you enjoying me on my knees in the kitchen," she purred.

"That was different."

"Yes, it was. I didn't have a choice then." She rubbed her cheek on his thigh.

"This is not a good idea." He held himself still, but his muscles jumped under her caress.

"I know." She trailed her free hand from one hip to the other, watching the pulse jump in his neck. "I'm good at coming up with bad ideas."

He pulled her to her feet. She pressed her hips against him and smiled.

"Some parts of you think this is a very good idea." She leaned in and kissed his neck, running her tongue over the pulsing vein. His grip on her hand tightened.

"I have more control than most men." He moved her back gently and let go of her.

"I know that, too. And you told me you would lose it. I guess you don't keep all your promises." She shrugged and walked down the hall. "Stay or go. It's your choice," she called over her shoulder.

She had almost made it to her room when she found herself pressed against the wall. She pushed back against him as she had in the warehouse. He leaned into her harder.

"There are different kinds of control, princess," he breathed in her ear. "How many should I lose?"

He straightened, pulling her back to him and slipped his hand under the shirt, sliding it over her stomach and up. Her breath caught as he cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb over her nipple. His other slipped under the waistband of the shorts. He stroked his thumb along her hip bone but did not go further.

"No words? I did not think it possible." He kissed her neck.

He took a half step back and turned her to face him, her back against the wall. His eyes were very dark. He took her wrists and raised them over her head. Her heart pounded. It wasn't fear.

"You do not want me to lose control." His kiss tasted of coffee. "What you want is to blame me for doing exactly what you want me to do."

He pulled her wrists up slightly. She gasped as the bruise on her ribs stretched.

"Very pretty." He regarded her with the barest hint of a smile.

He leaned in, one leg sliding between hers, pressing up against her. She had a vague awareness of her trembling legs. When he released her wrists, she gripped his shoulder so she didn't slide down the wall.

"It is easier when you don't have to be responsible for your own desires." His arm went around her waist, pulling her closer until she straddled his thigh.

"Such a thing should not be easy," he said, lips brushing hers.

"Nothing with you is easy." She backed away from him and went into her room. She turned to look at him, waiting for whatever would come next.

He kept his eyes on her as he walked into the room, stopping a few feet from her, waiting for her to make the next move. She stepped up and hooked her fingers in his waistband. She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling him closer. He didn't stop her when she undid the button his pants and lifted his shirt. She kissed his stomach, exploring the cut of his muscles with her tongue. She trailed kisses along the length of his scar. He shuddered and stepped back, shaking his head.

"Please," she said.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Please." She drew the word out.

"Please what?"

"Drop your walls." It was not what she had intended to say.

"Did it never occur to you that the walls are there to keep other people safe?"

"I don't like safe." She took off the t-shirt.

"So you think." He did not move.

"Try me." The shorts dropped to the floor.

"This is a dangerous game, princess." His voice was rough.

"Then let's play." She climbed onto the bed and looked over her shoulder at him. She crawled to the head of the bed, movements exaggerated, holding his gaze.

"I told you I am not someone to play with," he said, removing his shirt and dropping it on the floor.

"And yet," she said, lying back against the pillows and watching him undress.

"And yet you push. Always you push." He wasn't bothering to hide his accent.

"You like it when I push."

"Let us see how you like it when I push back." In one move, he was on the bed, his hands pinning her shoulders. His smile was feral.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She had one moment to hesitate. It came one moment too late.

His kiss was fierce, possessive. He stroked her arm, tracing the bruise. The heat of his fingers was a comfort. The pressure was pain. Wherever he touched her, she was remade, her body taking shape under his hands. He trailed kisses across her collar bone, then dipped his head to flick his tongue over her nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. Her groan was met with a dark laugh. His fingers continued to play, applying just the right pressure, skirting the edge of pain. She had to remember to breathe.

He kissed her bruised ribs, his shoulders tightening when she gasped. He did it again, then moved lower. She trembled when he tasted her. He flicked his tongue and the trembling turned to shaking. There was too much sensation.

"No, no, no." Her hands grasped for something to hold onto.

He lifted his head. "No?" His fingers barely brushed her.

She shook her head. "The safe word is stop."

"I will try to remember that." He continued to play, making her writhe.

"I can't take this." Her voice was raw.

"Yes, you can. And you will. This is what you wanted, yes?"

He stole her words. There were patterns of light and the shadow of his touch. She grabbed his shoulders, digging her fingers in as she arched, making a bridge to forever and nowhere. When she thought there was nothing left but to break, he filled her. A scream formed in her throat and emerged as a broken cry.

He answered it with a triumphant snarl. Whatever leash he had kept on his beast had been broken. There were no words, no thoughts, only movement, friction, the scent of him washing over her. He rolled so she straddled him, his hands on her hips driving her down repeatedly as he pushed up. She climaxed, then collapsed on his chest. She could not stop shaking.

He locked his legs over hers and twisted, flipping them so he was on top again.

"That was the first, princess. There will be more." He smiled down at her. "I keep all my promises."

Gage opened his eyes, turning to look at the alarm clock. It was not there. He snapped awake, looking around the room, remembering. Deira lay in a tangle of sheets, her hair spread over the pillow. He should never have let himself fall asleep. He knew he should leave before she woke up. She snuggled back against him, and he kissed her shoulder. He closed his eyes for a moment. Control waited at the edge of conscious thought. He left it there for a while longer.

Deira had the coffee brewing by the time Gage emerged from the shower. She sat on the couch, sipping tea. Leaning back, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face. When she opened them, he stood at the window, cup in hand.

"Good morning," he said, not turning around. She wondered how he did that.

"Very. Did you sleep well?"

"When I slept, yes." He turned to look at her.

"That was –" he started.

"Delicious," she finished.

"Reckless." He was on the verge of saying something else, but she held up her hand.

"This is the part where you say that whatever it is between us won't last or will lead to badness, et cetera."

"Is it." There was no inflection in his voice.

"Yes. Don't bother. I'm clear on the whole 'no future for us' thing."

"I see." He leaned against the window frame, glancing down at the street automatically.

"You do realize that when I'm gone you're going to miss the hell out of me, right?'

"You seem rather sure of that."

"Considering you were in my bed all night, obviously by choice, and came back for seconds? Yeah, pretty sure."

"Thirds," he corrected, trying hard to fight a smile. He hid his failure in his coffee cup.

"Thank you for making my point for me. Of course what you'll really miss is my sparkling wit and the fact that I make life exciting."

"You do. But I prefer my life to be a little more..."

"Controlled?" She smiled at him.

He shook his head and went to refill his coffee. "There is nothing wrong with a little control, princess."

"I know. It's how I got you to do what I wanted you to do last night. And since that worked out so well for both of us, how about you call me Deira instead of princess from now on." She joined him in the kitchen.

"It would be so much nicer to have a name, just like a real girl!" she gushed.

"I thought last night was about proving how good a toy you are." He looked her over, assessing.

"I am a very good toy, as you found out. And before I showed up, you didn't play nearly often enough. Maybe I should stick around."

"Simply for my benefit?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No, to amuse myself. Between banging you and watching you beat yourself up over what a bad person you are, I could stay entertained for a long time." She smiled brightly. "Besides, I like hanging out with your niece."

He tensed up, as she had known he would.

"You're so predictable." She laughed. "Relax. I'm no threat to Katya. For one thing, I think she's a blast. For another, she could kick my ass around the block without thinking about it and then shoot me when she got bored."

He choked on his coffee. She handed him a napkin.

"Oh, hell. You don't even know how hard she is, do you? When this job is over, you might want to spend some quality time with her. She's got some good stories."

"I will be sure to do that."

"I suppose I should ask what's on the agenda for today." She gave an exaggerated sigh.

"More of the same," he said.

"Which same would that be?" It was her turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"Planning, princ..." He stopped himself.

"D E I R A. " She spelled it out in sign language as she spoke. "Deeer-a"

"I never felt it necessary to name my toys," he replied, setting down his cup.

"How about your pets?"

"They all had names. And none of them objected to my choices." He stepped up to her.

"Should have stuck to pets." She stepped back.

"They are difficult to take with you when you have to leave suddenly. And I disliked asking other people to watch over them." He backed her out of the kitchen.

"Too complicated, huh?" Her back hit the wall of the hallway.

"Much too complicated," he whispered. "Not to mention my regret when I have to put them down."

"I suppose you're not the kind to give them away to a nice home," she said.

"No. I have control issues." He kissed her. "What is mine, I keep or destroy, depending on the circumstance."

"Guess it's a good thing I'm not yours then, huh?" She pushed him away and walked back into the kitchen.

Oh, but you are, princess. He could let her walk away, and he would. Walking away was not the same thing as being free. It would be best if she did not realize that for quite some time.