Page 38 of Sunflower Persona (Classic City Romance #2)

Kori

G age’s apartment is a comfortable place for me.

It’s a bit antiquated—Gage would say it’s fucking old—but it’s far homier than the sterile white fluorescence of my dorm room.

It could use a splash of color, maybe some bright blankets to break up the dingy browns and beiges, but his overflowing racks of plant life do a decent enough job.

It’s charming in a way that no amount of plushies or posters or extra-fuzzy blankets can bring to my dorm room.

I like it, or maybe I merely like it because it’s his. Either way, I think this place is turning into my second home, a place where I can let my walls down fully. But for the first time, the apartment feels daunting, and that has everything to do with the nervous ball of anxiety beside me.

He fumbles his keys to the ground as he goes to unlock the front door, and he bends down to get them with curses on his lips.

“Sorry, Low,” he says with a sheepish smile as he picks up the keys.

Okay, so nervous Gage is kind of adorable. He’s been fidgety since we closed down Cutter’s. Hell, he even rambled on the way over, telling me all about the kids in the classes he coached this morning, and he never rambles.

He tries to unlock the door again, and this time, it swings open with ease.

He moves to the side and falls in step behind me as I walk through the door, into the dark.

I’m only able to make out the outlines of furniture from the glow of the porch light creeping in from the doorway, but Gage’s large frame blocks most of that from getting through.

The room grows pitch black when he shuts the door behind us, and my heart thunders in my ears.

“Gage…” My voice is shaky as I choke out his name.

“Shit. Hold on. I’m fucking this all up.”

His movements are lost in the shadow, but I can hear every scrape and rustle as he stumbles around behind me.

The noises sound louder than they likely are with all of my senses on high alert.

After a few long seconds, he lets out a satisfied grunt, and the room floods with dim warm light from hundreds of fairy lights strung up in crisscrossed patterns between the walls.

I blink as my eyes adjust, and when they focus, I realize that isn’t the only change.

The couch has been pushed to the far wall, and Gage’s mattress has been dragged out in its place.

More blankets and pillows than I thought he owned are piled on it, making a bright, eclectic nest of mismatched colors and fabrics in the center.

Yellow flower petals decorate the floor around the bed, and at the foot is a large flower arrangement with matching blooms.

Tears burn behind my eyes, but I blink them away before they can fall. There is no way I’m letting him make me cry twice in one night. I can’t believe he did this for me—nobody has ever cared about me enough to go to these lengths.

“Surprise,” Gage says as he steps forward to wrap his arms around me from behind. His low voice is thick and raspy as if this is affecting him the same as me.

I relax back into his hold, and I swear nothing has ever felt more right. He holds me tighter and tucks his face into my hair. I think he’s saying something, but I can’t make out the words over the roar of blood in my ears.

“When did you have time to set this up?”

His arms squeeze me tighter as he shrugs. “I was pretty confident in my ability to get you home with me.”

“You didn’t need to do this,” I say once my voice feels steady enough not to break.

“You’re right. I didn’t need to do anything, but I wanted to. I know I can’t give you everything you deserve, but I wanted to do something to show you how much you mean to me.”

His words cause a flurry of unfamiliar sensations to ripple through me.

The feeling is an all-consuming, almost painful ache in my chest, although it’s not necessarily unpleasant, just more than I can handle.

It’s a deep-seated need that only Gage can satisfy.

Even being in his arms, there is too much distance between us; I need him closer like I need the air I breathe.

I twist in his embrace and seek his lips with my own in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

He doesn’t protest; instead, he groans and devours me with the same burning intensity.

My hands find the hem of his T-shirt and slip underneath.

His skin is hot and smooth under my fingers, and I can only imagine what it will feel like pressed against me without these layers of clothes between us.

It’s time I find out.

I tug at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head without breaking our kiss. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s possible, and I let out a frustrated huff against his lips.

“Fuck me, Low,” he groans as he pulls away.

“I’m trying,” I huff.

He smooths his shirt back down, and I damn near growl. I want more of him, not less, goddamnit. I reach out again, this time going for his belt, and I can feel he’s just as aroused as I am. My hands drift south to cup his bulge, but he stops me, catching both my wrists together in his giant hands.

“Hold on a second. I didn’t set this up in an attempt to get into your pants. Movies and cuddling are the only things on the agenda. This is still your rodeo. There is no pressure for anything more.”

“And if I want more?” I challenge. I don’t know where the boldness comes from, but it has a strong effect on Gage. He swallows heavily as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“If you want more, you are going to have to tell me what that looks like. You are in control here.”

“Take off your clothes,” I command.

The speed at which he pulls his shirt off and struggles with his pants would be comical if the situation were any different, but the air is far too charged with electric need for me to laugh.

He stands before me in nothing but his boxers.

His hand hovers by the waistband, and he gives me a challenging look, daring me to go further.

We will, but first I want to get my fill of him.

This is the most he’s ever let me see of his body.

His torso is a solid mass of muscle, but it isn’t perfectly sculpted like some Hollywood actor on the big screen.

That doesn’t make him any less impressive.

If anything, I think I like this more. Gage is real.

His chest is covered in a large, faded tattoo of a bear’s head surrounded by vintage-style roses.

I reach out and run my fingertips over the thick lines.

His eyes flutter shut as a shiver runs through his body.

That reaction only fuels me further; I replace my fingers with my lips, teasing the skin with my tongue as I alternate between soft kisses and exploration.

My lips trail down his body, going so low I have to drop to my knees in order to reach. Gage groans as I do, but he doesn’t move. His hands clench into fists as his body tightens with his restraint. I stop at his waistband, licking and sucking around the sensitive flesh at his hips.

After a few more moments of teasing, my need to see all of him wins out, and I pull his boxers down.

His cock springs free, no less impressive than it looked behind the confines of his clothes.

I only have one other to compare it to, but Gage is easily an inch longer, and thicker by an even more impressive margin.

Precum leaks from its head, and I can’t resist the urge to taste it.

I dart my tongue out and lick away the salty liquid, which only makes Gage groan again.

I look up at him, and he’s staring at me like I’m the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen. The absolute unguarded adoration in his eyes flips my stomach.

“You can touch me too,” I tell him, and then I take him into my mouth.

His girth stretches my jaw, but I don’t mind it.

One of his hands comes to my head the moment I give him permission.

He doesn’t pull my hair or push my head down farther, he just holds me, like I’m the only thing that can ground him.

I lick and suck on the top half of his cock, careful not to take him too far and make myself gag.

The salty taste of his precum explodes across my taste buds as I work him with my mouth, and saliva spills past my lips in messy pools.

It’s not like I have a ton of preexisting blow job skills, but I try to make up for my lack of technique with enthusiasm.

“I’m going to come if you keep going like that,” Gage says with a groan as his face pinches.

I pull away and wipe the drool from my chin. There will be a time for him to come in my mouth, but tonight I want more than that.

“Go lie down,” I tell him, and he follows my command without complaint.

I follow behind him, peeling off my clothes as I go. He watches my every movement with hungry eyes, stroking himself lazily with one hand.

All of that bold, self-assured attitude flees as I stand naked in front of him. At least he’s naked too. This would be so much more awkward if he wasn’t.

What happens now?

I know Gage said I’m in control, but does he expect me to climb on top of him and sit on his dick? Or does he want something else? Yes, I have some experience, but I never said it was good experience, and I’ve never tried to be the one in control. What if I fuck it up?

“What’s running through that head of yours, doll?” Gage stops his stroking and props himself up to get a better look at me.

“I don’t know what to do next.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Everything.” My cheeks heat with the confession.

“Do you want to have sex tonight?” he asks bluntly, and I nod.

“Words, Kor,” he growls in warning.

“Yes, Gage, I want you to fuck me.”

He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, before looking at me again.

“I meant it when I said I didn’t invite you over tonight for this. If you change your mind at any point, you say stop and we stop. Got it?”

“Yes, Coach,” I grumble, and the heat in his gaze only grows more intense.