Strict (Part Nine) Read online

  “Yes, baby. Yes, I’m here. Your father is, too.”

  “Hi, honey.” My dad’s face appears in my field of vision, and he gives me a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

  “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. And then I realize that if my parents are here, Gage might be gone. I struggle to sit up, suddenly panicked. “Where’s Gage?”

  And then I spot him standing by the door. His posture is stiff, his back straight, his jaw set. I know him so well, I can tell that it’s taking everything inside of him not to rush to me, but he’s doing his best to make sure I get this moment with my parents.

  At the sound of his name, my mother swallows, the forced brightness on her face dimming just a little bit.

  “Honey, you need to rest,” she says gently. “It’s time for Gage to go home.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No, I want him here.” My eyes meet his across the room, but his face is expressionless, revealing nothing. “I want you all here.”

  “Honey – “ my mom starts again, glancing at my father for backup, but before she can say anything else, a doctor appears in the doorway.

  “Ms. Cavanaugh,” she says, giving me a warm smile. “You’re awake.”

  “Yes,” I say. “I mean, sort of. I still feel groggy.”

  “That’s to be expected.” She surveys the room. “These are you parents? Hi, I’m Dr. Montague.” She holds her hand out and my parents introduce themselves.

  “And this is my boyfriend,” I prompt. “Gage Stratford.”

  She nods at Gage and then gives me a smile. “Yes, Mr. Stratford and I met when they brought you in. I heard he was quite the hero.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Gage asks, ignoring the doctor’s praise.

  “Chloe should be fine.” The room lets out a sigh of relief, my parents clasping each other’s hands as Dr. Montague glances down at my chart. “Chloe’s scan shows no sign of bleeding on her brain. She has a concussion, but it’s mild. The swelling in her brain has dissipated. She should be fine to be discharged to home to get some rest.”

  My mom squeezes my hand. “You’ll come home with us,” she says forcefully.

  “I’d like Chloe to stay in the hospital one more night,” Gage says, and his voice has an edge to it, one I’ve heard before, one that means whatever he’s just said is not up for discussion.

  My dad opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, my mother breaks in. “You want her to stay in the hospital?” she says. “Are you insane? She’ll come home with us. And she won’t be staying with you.”

  “Mom – ” I start.

  “I’ve spoken with Dr. Sampson, head of neurology at the Mayo Clinic,” Gage says. “He’s a friend of mine. He told me that in cases like these, there’s a small chance that a brain bleed could start twenty-four hours after discharge, and that it’s much less likely to cause complications if the patient is already in the hospital.”

  Dr. Montague bristles for a moment in the way that doctors do when someone is questioning what they’ve said. But I can see the indecision on her face as she weighs what Gage has just said, and the fact that it’s come from the head of neuro at the Mayo Clinic, which is one of the best hospitals in the country.

  “Dr. Sampson is very respected,” she says finally. “But any complications at this stage would be very rare.”

  “How rare?” my father demands, the edge in his voice almost matching Gage’s, which is actually pretty impressive. My father is not the type of man to make waves. He’s the type who believes doctors and lawyers and accountants know more than he does, and bends to their authority.

  “I mean, I’m not exactly… I can’t give a number,” Dr. Montague says.

  My mother swallows, and I can see her mind working. She looks at Gage, her tone softening just a tiny bit. “This Dr. Sampson,” she says. “You know him well?”

  “Yes.”

  She turns back to Dr. Montague. “And what would the harm be of keeping Chloe in the hospital for another night?”

  “Well, there’s no harm, really.” Dr. Montague straightens her shoulders.

  “Then why wouldn’t we?” my mom demands.

  “Chloe’s insurance doesn’t allow for more than – ”

  “And how much would it be to keep her another night?”

  “At least twenty thousand dollars,” the doctor says. She at least has the wherewithal to drop her head and look at the floor, as if she knows that what is happening isn’t right.

  “Payment isn’t a problem,” Gage says from the doorway.

  “Mr. Stratford – ” the doctor starts, still obviously not used to or comfortable with having her authority challenged.

  “She’ll stay another night.” Gage stares at the doctor, not looking away.

  And after a moment, Dr. Montague nods, and says she’ll go and cancel my discharge.

  Once she’s gone, my father looks at Gage. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

  Gage nods, and I love him for that, love him for knowing that it’s best not to make a big deal out of what he’s done, that my father isn’t the type who would like that.

  My mother says nothing, but this time, when she looks at Gage, her eyes soften just a little bit.

  Chapter 7

  GAGE

  “Stay still,” I command her.

  “I am staying still.”

  “Not still enough.”

  “It’s impossible to stay completely still, Gage.” Chloe wriggles around in the bath I’ve drawn for her, pushing her back up against the side of the deep soaking tub in the master bedroom.

  It’s been two days since she’s been home from the hospital. Her parents left an hour or so ago, after lots of reassurance that I would call them if anything happened. They didn’t want to leave her with me – of that I was sure.

  But they also didn’t push as hard as they normally would have. I’d been extra careful to give them space while they were here, making sure they had time with Chloe and that I was nothing but respectful to them and their daughter.

  I understood their worries, and I wanted to prove to them I had nothing but good intentions for their daughter. Especially since I can’t imagine being without her.

  I stare down at her now, this brilliant, gorgeous woman, naked in the bath before me. Her body is beautiful, the soft swell of her breasts and the sweet peaks of her nipples causing my cock to stiffen.

  I bend over the edge of the tub and run my finger down the bruise on her collarbone. Rage flies through me, hard and fast.

  I remember how it felt to have Brandon in my hands, the satisfaction I felt as I snapped the bones of his wrist.

  “I should have killed him.” The words are out of my mouth before I can consider whether or not they should even be said.

  “Then you would have been no better than he is.” Chloe grabs my hand and brings it to her lips, brushing them softly across my knuckles.

  “I have it inside of me, you know. To do that. I would have killed him if I hadn’t needed to get to you first.”

  Her hand tightens around mine. “But you didn’t. And I’m here. I’m okay.”

  I let my eyes travel over her body, at the bruises that bloom on her otherwise flawless skin. I think of the way I had to help her into the bathroom, letting her hold onto me, her arm draped over my shoulders as we walked. My rage intensifies, and I pick up the loofah that one of my housekeepers has left in an elegant container on the side of the bath, and use it to drip water down Chloe’s back.

  We’re both silent for a while, the only sound the slide of the water sluicing down her skin and back into the tub.

  She turns to look at me, her eyes meeting mine, and in that moment, she cracks me open. It’s such a visceral reaction it’s as if it’s physical, as if I can actually feel my soul opening up to her, letting her in.

  It’s so overwhelming that my first instinct is to rail against it, to try to push against it and shut down. But I rail against my impulses, knowing that fighting against this,
fighting against the way I feel about her, will be futile.

  I love her.

  She is everything.

  Without her, there is nothing.

  And fighting against that fact is pointless.

  “Come into the bath with me,” she says, and I bristle.

  “The doctor said no sex,” I say.

  “That’s not true. The doctor said I need to be careful about doing too much physically. And besides, I’m not talking about sex, Gage.” She rolls her eyes, like she can’t believe I’m making everything about sex.

  “I won’t be able to resist you.” I dip the loofah back into the water, attempting to avert my eyes from the swell of her breasts. We both know it’s a lie – I want touch her, as much as I want to, because I would never do anything to hurt her.

  Her eyes are on mine, soft and wanting, expectant and waiting. The thought of being naked in a bathtub with her, without it being sexual, is terrifying. Stripped raw, down to nothing but her and I, the two of us.

  Love. Romance. Emotions.

  All the things I’ve worked my entire life to avoid.

  “Please.” Her voice is small, pleading.

  “Chloe.”

  “Please, Gage.”

  My chest crack open again, and in that moment, I know that I will never deny her of anything she wants. Not now. Not ever.

  I strip my clothes off quickly and step into the bath.

  I ease into the water, pulling her toward me so that her back is flush against my chest.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper into her ear, wrapping my arms around her. “Is this comfortable?”

  “Yes.” She leans back against me, and I hold her, pressing my lips to the side of her neck. My cock is rock hard, nestled against the folds of her ass, and I wonder how I’m going to resist her.

  She picks her hand up and lets the water slide through her fingers, then swirls her fingertip around in the water. “Gage.”

  “Chloe.”

  She swallows and then slides across the water to the other side of the tub, turning around so that she’s facing me.

  “What are you doing?” I sit up, alarmed. “You shouldn’t be moving like that. The doctor said –“

  “The doctor said I needed to rest. She didn’t say I couldn’t move.” She leans back against the tub. She takes a deep breath. “I need to say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For saving my life.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for that, Chloe. I would do anything for you.” My hands tighten into fists underneath the water. “I should have killed him.”

  “Gage.” She reaches for my hands. “You never told me what happened. How did you…how did you find me?”

  I take a deep breath, knowing it would be easy to tell her the abridged version – that I was in a meeting and that I got worried about her.

  But that wouldn’t be fair.

  I love her.

  And she deserves to know it all.

  Chapter 8

  CHLOE

  “I was in a meeting,” he says, and he takes my foot, rubbing the arch softly under the water. His voice is serious, like whatever he’s about to say is important. I steady, because I’ve never heard that tone in his voice before, not even the night he told me about the things that happened with River and his stepfather “With River’s lawyers. You weren’t texting me back.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” I say. “But my interview with Nicholas Cove was… weird. He wanted me to --”

  “I know what Nicholas wanted you to do.” He shakes his head, cutting me off. “Willow told me about how he only wanted to give you an internship if you could bring him River.”

  I want to ask how the hell Willow knew about what happened in my meeting with Nicholas, but I know that now’s not the time. If Gage is talking, I’m not going to do anything to risk him shutting down.

  “Willow told me what you did.” His gaze slips to down to my foot under the water, like it’s too painful to look at me, and then back up to meet my eyes. “How you told Nicholas that you wouldn’t do it.”

  “Of course not,” I say. “Why would I ever betray you like that?”

  He swallows hard. “Because of what I told you the night before.”

  “About River. And your stepfather. The things that you did. The fighting, the competitions.” I want to give voice to these things, to let him know that no matter what he tells me, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

  “Yes. But it’s more than just that. It’s how I was going to destroy River’s company. That I was going to invest in it just to sell it off.” His fingers are still on the arch of my foot, kneading softly under the water. His touch is like a balm, sending waves of warmth through my bruised body, comforting me and taking away my soreness. “Anyway, what you did for me, with Nicholas… it made me realize that I don’t want to be like that anymore.”

  “Like what?”

  “A monster.”

  “Is that what you think?” My voice breaks as I speak. “That you’re a monster?”

  He looks away, and I inch forward, taking his chin in my hands and forcing him to look at me. “You’re not a monster, Gage. You were a child. River was a child. There’s no one to blame in his situation except for your stepfather.”

  “But I’m an adult now. And I don’t want to carry all that with me. I don’t need revenge, Chloe. All I need is you.”

  “Then you need to tell him. You need to tell River the truth. What you were going to do. No more secrets.”

  He nods, and for the first time since I’ve met him, I feel as if I’m actually seeing him. There’s nothing between us, literally and figuratively. No bravado, no walls, nothing.

  He kisses me softly, his fingers tangling in my hair. His lips are warm and gentle, and I can feel that same drowsy, relaxed feeling moving through my limbs.

  He pulls back and presses his forehead against mine.

  “We can’t,” he says.

  “Can’t what?”

  “I can’t touch you.”

  I take his hand and bring it to my breast. “Like this?” I whisper.

  He holds my breast in his hand, his thumb brushing over the peak of my nipple. I shudder and bite my lip as a hot wave of pleasure pulses through me.

  “No sex,” he says.

  “You said that. Not the doctor.”

  “She said you need to relax.”

  “I feel relaxed.”

  “Really?” He raises his eyebrows. The motions of his thumb intensify and speed up, as if he’s trying to test me. I bite my lip, stifling the moan that threatens to escape from deep in my throat. “This is relaxing to you?” he prompts.

  “Yes,” I manage, forcing my voice to stay steady.

  “Fine,” he says with a wicked grin. His other arm slides slowly down my body, fingertips trailing over skin, leaving a path of goose bumps in their wake.He slides me close to him, so close that I’m almost flush against him. So close that I can feel the hardness of his cock against me.

  “Still relaxed?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I close my eyes as he tips his head down and brushes his lips across my collarbone. Shivers ricochet through me, and I try to keep my body still, knowing that if I move too much, if I make it seem as if I’m getting too worked up, he’ll stop.

  “Good.”

  “Good.”

  “I just said that.” He quirks his brow at me.

  “I know.” I shrug. “I was just, you know, reiterating it.”

  “Reiterating what?”

  “That everything’s, you know, good.”

  The side of his lip twitches and I can tell he’s trying not to smile. Instead, he pushes my hair over my shoulders. “I love you, Chloe.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I never want to hurt you.”

  I’m not sure if he’s talking about what we’re doing right now, or something more, something deeper. “You won’t ever hurt me.”

  “I might.”

 
“Not the way you’re thinking. We might fight, you might hurt my feelings, but that’s not the same as really hurting someone.”

  His eyes turn serious, considering my words before he nods, as if this is a new revelation to him.

  The steam from the bath rises around us, leaving his hair damp and his skin slick.

  “We should get out,” he says. “Go back to bed.”

  But he doesn’t move, and neither do I. I know if we get out of the bath, if we move to the bedroom, this moment might be lost. His instinct to protect me is already so strong, there’s no way he will touch me if this spell is broken.

  “Go back to bed?” I raise my eyebrows and give him a suggestive little smile, hoping that making a joke will signal to him that I’m okay, that he can do what he wants to me.

  “I already told you I can’t touch you,” he reiterates.

  “Can’t?” I ask, “or won’t?”

  “Won’t.” But his voice is cracking just a little bit.

  “You don’t have to touch me. I can touch you.” My hand is flat against the hard planes of his chest and I slip it down over his stomach, lingering over the defined ridges of his abs.

  My hand moves lower, wrapping around his cock, which is already rock hard and pulses in my hand.

  He groans. “Chloe.”

  “Just let me,” I say. “Please, let me touch you.”

  He groans again as I stroke him up and down, his cock a steel rod encased in velvet. With my free hand, I take his other hand and place it on my thigh. “Touch me,” I say softly. “I’m okay, Gage. I’m alive. I’m here because of you. Do you understand that?”

  His fingers slip across the top of my thigh, his nails digging softly into my flesh as I continue to jerk his cock. I can feel the grip on his control slipping as his nails dig deeper into me, and I welcome the sensation of his hands on my skin. It’s as if his touch is bringing me back to life, as if he’s healing me both physically and mentally.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he grinds out.

  You could never hurt me. All you do is make me feel good.” I take his hand and move it slowly further my legs, onto my pussy. “Do you feel that?” I whisper. “Do you feel how wet I am?”