Page 25 of All Your Lies (All or Nothing #2)

twenty

Alexa

I regard the small black box in my hands with trepidation. An innocent red bow sits at the top, but I’m sure there’s nothing innocent in the box.

Another gift from Gage.

One he handed to me as I left Rosie’s wedding last night.

I’m still in shock at how amazing everything turned out. And to think it was Gage who helped with all the festivities. I could almost kiss him for making Rosie so happy. Almost.

Each interaction with him is one unfortunate event after another. I’ve been attempting to play hard to get like a seasoned pro, but when he’s near, it’s like I can’t stand on solid ground.

My legs turn to jelly, as if knowing he’ll be there to sweep me up in his warm, muscular arms.

Some of it can be attributed to the familiarity and closeness we’ve always shared, but now there’s an undeniable sexual chemistry that can’t be ignored, even though I’ve tried.

When we were younger, it simmered just under the surface, a gentle, manageable boil. But this—this is different. It’s consuming me.

And while I’m caught in the trap that is Gage himself, I don’t want to get out. If anything, I want to be bound further to him. It’s unsettling and dangerous to my heart.

Jenna captures my attention as she enters my room, her tired face drawing my gaze as she climbs into bed beside me.

Dark circles cast shadows on her otherwise flawless porcelain skin, revealing restless nights.

Her absence has become more frequent lately, which concerns me, especially coupled with how exhausted she’s been.

“Someone left this by the door,” Jenna says as she holds up another red rose. I swear they keep on popping up everywhere I go. What is it now? Number nine? Ten?

“Throw it away. I don’t want it.”

Now, knowing what I do, it’s probably from Gage.

“I’ll keep it for myself since no one buys me shit,” she says as she smells it deeply.

The dark circles and bags are even more pronounced the closer she gets.

“You look exhausted. Up all night talking to your biker daddy?” I grin.

Jenna’s nose scrunches in disgust. “I’m with Rosie. That name is awful.”

“Only when it’s directed at you.”

“Nothing is going on between him and me.”

“Yeah, sure, it looked like it from the way he was tracking you all night like you were his last supper on death row.”

“You’re imagining things. What’s that?” Jenna points at Gage’s gift I have yet to open.

“More lies,” I state before throwing the box haphazardly on my nightstand with a thunk.

“Sounds fun. Give it here.”

“Nope. It’s staying closed until I’m ready.”

“What if it’s your engagement ring?”

My eyes widen in horror. “Then it’s definitely staying in there.”

“The anticipation might kill me,” Jenna whines.

“I’ll play all your favorite songs at your funeral.”

She grins. “Promise?”

I give a noncommittal shrug. Jenna smiles before jumping over me like a ninja. She grabs the box and opens it like a child on Christmas morning before I can comment further.

She chuckles. “How very early 2000s Mafia Daddy. I wonder if this even works.”

That has me jumping from my bed with speed I didn’t know I could muster so early in the morning. “Give it here, and I think I’m with you on the daddy talk.”

“Nah, his nickname has a ring to it.” Jenna grins as she studies the small iPod in her hands. “What do you think’s on here? A sex track for your wedding night?” Her eyebrows wiggle.

“I swear your mind is always in the gutter. Must be your little friend with the creepy eyes making you all hot and bothered.”

Jenna pauses before forcing her face into a neutral, emotionless mask. Every time I bring up the guy I now know as Trey, she acts strange. If she likes the guy, she should go for it, as I’ve told her multiple times. She’s been tight-lipped about anything to do with him.

Jenna opens her mouth to say something witty, I’m sure, but I use that as my moment to rip the iPod out of her hands.

She grumbles, “My reflexes are shit this morning. I’m going to go crash out. When you listen to it, let me know. I’m dying to know how cheesy Mafia Daddy really is.”

With that, she walks out, and I’m again left with my thoughts.

I can’t help but smile as I look down at the small, worn iPod, a relic from my past. I flip it over and run my thumb over Gage’s engraved initials on the back. As teens, we would make each other playlists. Music was something we both bonded over.

We passed the iPod between us more times than I could count, creating hundreds of playlists. This device is featherlight, yet it’s heavy in my hands.

Nostalgia washes over me as vivid recollections of our joyful laughter and carefree days surge through me, igniting a roller coaster of emotions while I lovingly caress the initials one last time, my eyes welling up with tears.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I reach for the box, my fingers brushing against a folded piece of black paper tucked inside. I reach for it, but then I hesitate. I feel like I’m not ready to read whatever is on this note, so I carefully put the iPod back into the box and close it.

My phone dings with a notification, and I know it’s him without checking. He sends me a million text messages a day, and if not that, he will call relentlessly.

Sometimes I answer. Most of the time I don’t.

The Liar

Meet me at our house in 30.

Alexa

Our house? There is no “our”!

The Liar

What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine, baby.

Alexa

Gag

The Liar

You gagging on my cock sounds lovely. Meet me at our house or I’m coming to your condo. Maybe we’ll go for round two? I distinctly remember you loving what I did the last time I was there.

I gulp at the reminder of being tied and spanked with a gag in my mouth. That’s something I can never forget. Nor would I ever want to, much to my dismay.

The Liar

27 minutes. You’re wasting time.

What a persistent, controlling dick. I’m tempted to stand his ass up just to show him who’s in charge. But nothing has gone according to plan when I go against him.

Alexa

I’ll see you in an hour and not one minute before.

The Liar

I’ll be counting down the minutes.

Ugh. I throw my phone on the bed. He’s so infuriating.

I rush through getting ready because I wouldn’t put it past him to still show up. I’ll be in his territory at his house, but I can’t have him in mine after that tainted night. Jenna also has a key, and I guarantee she would find me in a compromising position, and I’d never live that shit down.

I follow my GPS to a row of black-and-white townhomes that stand alarmingly close to my condo… like, mere minutes.

The dick was right under my nose the whole time, and I was oblivious. It’s a damn good thing my future job isn’t as a private investigator because I’d suck.

I confidently stride through his front door without bothering to knock, a small act of rebellion mirroring his own uninvited entrance into my domain.

I’m greeted by a sparse, almost clinically clean space.

It looks like a model home. Complete with beautiful paintings and a modern black, white, and tan color scheme.

The distinct scent of his infuriatingly delicious cologne and marijuana permeate the air as I enter, leaving no doubt that I’m in his home.

“Gage?” I call out as I walk through the lower level. Where the hell is he?

I walk up the stairs to the second-floor landing. As I pass countless closed doors, I reach one at the end that is illuminated with bright lights.

To the left, an enormous black canopy platform bed and oversized furniture dominate the space.

As I walk in, the sound of running water fills the room. I continue to walk and peek around the corner to the right, where a bathroom sits.

Billowing steam fills the shower, obscuring my vision, but I can still make out Gage through the hazy air. His back, kissed by the sun and adorned with tattoos, is a sight to behold. With each movement, his muscles flex as he uses his firm hands to scrub his scalp with shampoo.

His special scent of darkness and spice lingers in the bathroom, enticing me to take an involuntary step closer.

I lick my dry lips as the inevitable hunger and longing that’s now associated with Gage runs through my body.

He soaps up his body while I watch the suds run down his muscular ass and equally muscular legs, which are also covered in ink. He is perfection, and I, unfortunately and undoubtedly, can’t take my eyes off him, even if I wanted to.

The longer I stand here and watch him, the hotter I feel.

My skin is burning and blushing with a strange, feverish warmth.

I should leave. This isn’t right. I’m a total creep for watching him without his knowledge, but it’s just like at his club, in those rooms. I’m unable to avert my gaze.

He continues to wash himself, and by some miracle, I snap out of my haze.

I attempt to take a step back just as Gage faces me. The water from the showerhead beads off his skin.

His eyes pin me in place as a mischievous smirk adorns his face. He licks his full lips before holding his full bottom lip prisoner with his teeth.

With a crook of his long, tattooed finger, he beckons me closer, his eyes full of sin. I take a deep gulp, my throat tightening, before vigorously shaking my head in refusal.

Despite my desire to retreat now that I’m caught, I find myself rooted to the spot as he persistently gestures for me to come closer. My eyes widen as he decides for me.

Gage is dripping wet, soap still running trails down his hard body as he steps forward and out of his walk-in shower. I try my best to keep my eyes above the waist. It’s a task that requires more effort than I ever imagined, and I might have accidentally peeked because… wow.

His front presses against mine, and his nose runs up and down my neck before he groans into my ear.

I take a deep breath in as goose bumps form like a fever all over my body.

My hands move to his wet back as I hold on to him.

“I missed you.” Gage’s deep, breathy voice reverberates through the bathroom.

“I…” Can’t form a sentence.

I lick my parched lips again, which now resemble the aridity of a desert.

Gage chuckles at my state. “Shower with me.”

I shake my head again since words evade me. He takes a step back with me still glued to him, and I gaze up into his deep blue ocean-colored eyes. They’re burning into me, so much so that I have to avert my gaze, but what has me pausing are the red dots against his neck.

“What’s that?” I grab his jaw with my thumb and forefinger and turn his head to the side, revealing more red dots. No, not dots, blood. “Are you hurt?”

Gage’s body grows tense against me for a fraction of a second, making my stomach drop.

“I killed my father this morning.”

A gasp escapes my lips.

“I’m telling you this because you’re about to become a boss, but I’d like it if you’d keep it from Rosie.”

“And what about Marco? Does he know?”

Gage’s eyes narrow at my mention of his brother. “He helped... and Vic.”

As I stand there, his words hang in the air, slowly sinking in, causing shock to wash over me.

I’ve always been able to look past what my dad does to a certain extent.

In my mind, he has two lives and never lets them mingle.

He never lets his dark side taint the wonderful life we have.

It provided a sense of security for my mom and me.

It kept us believing he was the most amazing man to walk the planet.

But now I have to walk into the dark with Gage by my side, hand in hand, and I’m still trying to come to terms with that.

Their father wasn’t a good man. He was all the bad parts of this life and brought nothing light home. Rosie could not move past the knowledge of what he did; it devastated her.

However, I swiftly digested and released it, refusing to let it weigh me down.

It was because of that my dad knew I’d be able to lead.

Little did he know I’d fuck it up later and not be able to perform when I needed to the most. The thought often crossed my mind, and still does, questioning whether my dad would be happier if he had a son instead of me.

I know he loves me, but I know a son leading would appear more powerful.

I snap out of my dark musings as Gage waves his hand in front of my face, where I see another drop of dried blood.

“Un-fucking-believable!” I say, taking a large step back and out of his arms. My eyebrows scrunch as I point a finger at him. “You just killed your father, his blood still stains your skin, and you want to have sex? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

As his lips quirk into a smirk, I shake my head and my gaze unfortunately takes more of him in, including his very hard cock. The talk of murder is turning him on.

What the fucking fuck?

I take another step in retreat; one he takes as a challenge as he follows my step.

“Make no mistake, his rotting corpse can be lying on the bed, and I’d still fuck you right next to him.”

“You’re sick!”

“Never said I was well, baby.”

Jesus, I’m going to marry a fucking psycho with a killing fetish.

He extends his hand out to me. “Now come shower with me.”

“Not a chance in hell, you freaking psycho! Wash your sins off and meet me downstairs. Maybe I’ll still be here, maybe not.” I shrug.

“If you run, I’ll chase you, and we both know how much my piccolo angello likes that.” His atrocious nickname throws me off as he flashes me a wicked smile, which makes my pulse jump and my core flutter.

My brain needs to have a serious talk with my body.

“Fuck you!” I flip him off. His laughter mixes with my loud steps as I stomp down the hallway.