As our escort lifted a hand to push the doors open to the pressroom, I called out, “Wait!” I knew what was waiting for us on the other side—a hoard of photographers from around the world. Each one was hoping to snap the picture of the Oscar winner holding their shiny trophy that would be picked up by every major magazine and newspaper. Snagging one of me at Morgan’s side would be a major coup for all of them. “Give us a moment.”
She moved a few feet away and turned her back toward us, allowing us what little privacy she could.
“Maybe I should wait out here.”
“What’s waiting for me in there? A firing squad?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” I laughed. “They’re shooting photos instead of bullets, but the damage can be almost as brutal.”
“Oh.” The happiness in her eyes dimmed, and the blue turned darker. “I see.”
“What do you think you see?”
Her chest expanded, her tits rising up and down on a deep breath. “I’m worried that you aren’t sure if the legendary Gage Ryan is ready to be photographed with his new girlfriend. Even if we’re building something pretty special between us.”
“You think I’m legendary?” I grinned hugely until the rest of what she’d said hit me, and I yanked on the statue she was holding. Thank fuck for the ridiculous heels she was wearing because she stumbled into my arms. “I don’t give a damn who sees us together or how many pictures they snap. I just don’t want to take away from your big day. And if I walk in there with you, there won’t be any going back from it. Think carefully before you let me claim you publicly.” I leaned closer, our lips only inches from each other. “You might think you understand the depths to which the vultures are willing to go to get their next story, but you’ve seen nothing like what they’ll do if they see us together tonight after all the gossip about the hickey I left on your neck.”
Those bright blue eyes narrowed, and her pert nose wrinkled in distaste. “You’re worried about this, why exactly? You’ve been photographed with plenty of women throughout the years.”
I’d never liked possessive women, but her show of jealousy made my cock harder than it already was. There was no denying what she’d said because it was true. But there was one difference between any other woman and Morgan. “Because none of them were you,” I admitted softly. My reaction to her was fiercer than anything I’d ever felt before, and I had no doubt it would be clear to anyone who saw us together.
Her eyes slid shut, and a sexy sigh escaped her mouth. I tilted my head and grazed her lips lightly with mine. Fiery desire shot through me at the touch, as small as it was. One tiny kiss from her lips was enough to have me pushing her back against the very door I’d stopped her escort from opening—only to have it swing wide when Morgan’s back hit the solid surface, to the sound of surprised gasps and clicking buttons as lights flashed around us.NineteenMorganGage’s lips were as to die for as I remembered, and he smelled so amazing that I wanted to rub myself against him forever. I’d missed him so much that my appetite for him—which, it should be noted, was already massive—spiked even higher with every soft swipe of his tongue. I ignored the sound of something hitting the ground with a thud as I lifted my hands to his shoulders and sighed. He growled low in his throat, a sexy vibration that I felt everywhere, causing me to melt into him as my back came up against something solid. Whatever it was wasn’t stationary because it immediately began to move, but I paid it no mind. Instead, I held him tighter and leaned in closer.
In addition to being breathless, every cell in my body felt alive and I was seeing hundreds of flashing lights behind my eyelids. That had to beat seeing stars by about a mile.
“Oh my God! Are you getting this?”
“Is that Gage Ryan? Fuck me!”
What sounded like hundreds of voices started shouting at the same time about exclusives, editorials, and Facebook live. Gage stiffened, keeping me against him as he lifted his head and looked over my shoulder.
“Well, shit, beautiful,” he groaned. “We’ve got an audience.”
“No shit you’ve got an audience, Sherlock,” a voice at my side whisper-shouted.
My shoulders sagged when I realized it was my publicist, Laney Lemon. It was like being busted drinking by my mom. If my brain wasn’t so addled, I’d have remembered that she’d always planned to meet me for the press conference if I won. Chalk that up to yet another thing that had flown right out of my head the second Gage reappeared.