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With a nod, he retrieved an old-fashioned glass and poured two fingers of bourbon. Before I could take it, however, Gage intercepted. He didn’t pass it back to the bartender or drink it, though. He considered me for a moment, then pressed the glass into my hand.
“You get one.”
Whatever. I tossed the contents back and immediately asked for another.
Gage shook his head.
Taking me by the elbow, he dragged me away from the bar and through a side door that opened onto a manicured lawn with twinkling lights and dancing fountains. A strong wind whipped over the rooftops and whistled through nearby trees, but it felt far away in the stillness of the courtyard.
“Are you ready to leave now?”
“I have to stay for at least an hour.”
“Why?”
“The senator said so.” Wasn’t that obvious?
Gage sighed and ran his fingers through his neatly trimmed beard. “No, I mean, why do you care what she wants? Why do you let her treat you like this?”
“Because she owns me,” I snapped. “Who do you think pays for my apartment? My cell phone? My college tuition?”
I knew I sounded like a spoiled brat. Poor me. Mommy pays all my bills. It wasn’t entitlement, though. It was about control.
I wasn’t unwilling to work and support myself. I just hadn’t been allowed. Anytime I attempted to grab even the smallest sliver of independence, it had been viciously yanked from my grasp.
So, rather than continue to fight her, I had focused on school instead. Over and over, I’d told myself I just had to keep my head down and play by her rules until I graduated, got a job, and started earning enough to break free from her.
For a while, it had worked. I had even been on course to earn my degree an entire year early. Then, everything had started going to hell.
Two stays in a residential rehab facility had forced me to retake classes. I had missed an entire semester because the senator had “forgotten” to pay the tuition on time. Then, the paid internship I had lined up had fallen through without explanation.
I didn’t qualify for financial aid. As a graduate student with no credit history, income, or assets, I didn’t meet the requirements for student loans without a cosigner. At least, not from any reputable institutions. Basically, if I wanted to finish college, I was at the mercy of the senator.
There was also a small part of me, a part I hated, that wanted to make my mother happy. A part that wanted to see her smile at me, just once. To hear her say she was proud of me. If I could be a better son, a better student, a better everything, maybe it would happen.
Jesus, I was pathetic.
“Come on,” Gage said. “I’m taking you home.”
No one ever listened to me. “I can’t leave be—”
Gage silenced my argument by grabbing the back of my neck and slamming our mouths together. This wasn’t the chaste, tentative kiss I had given him at the park. No shyness. No hesitancy. No fear of rejection. He kissed me as if he alone had every right to do so.
He plunged his tongue between my gasping lips, twining it with my own as he explored the recesses of my mouth. Backing me against the wall, he anchored me there with his larger frame, his hips grinding against mine.
My pulse accelerated, my heart beating out a frantic rhythm against my sternum. Tingles of electricity raced across my skin, and my cock swelled behind my zipper. Fisting the lapels of his jacket, I pulled him closer and arched against him with a quiet moan.
While certainly not my first kiss, it was the first someone had kissed me with such fervor and passion. Every swipe of his tongue was like a brand of ownership, one I gladly and willingly accepted.
Fuck, I wanted him. I wanted to go on kissing him forever. To feel his skin against mine. To watch his face twist into a mask of carnal pleasure. I wanted to hear him whisper my name as we lost ourselves in each other.
So, of course, he chose that moment to break away, but thankfully, he didn’t go far.
“Nate?”
“Y–yes?” I stammered.
He pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes as he traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “I think…”
