Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain #2)(107)



“Keeping the existence of a son from me –”

He interrupted me, “I’d do it again.”

“Well, I don’t like that, I can’t ignore that I don’t like it and I can’t forgive it.”

“Same old shit, Laurie,” he muttered.

“No, it isn’t. We’re talking about you having a child with Neeta.”

“Yeah, babe. Was that a pleasant scene? Did you like what happened outside?”

“What?” I snapped and answered, “Of course not.”

“Twenty years of that,” he told me, “twenty f**kin’ years. She’s got a filthy mouth and shit for brains and she’s spoiled rotten and thinks she can do anything she wants. No man who’s had a woman like that in his life jumps back in without testin’ the waters and no father who’s goin’ for full custody brings a woman in his son’s life without makin’ sure she’s fit to be there. No, I didn’t tell you about Jonas because I needed to be certain you were who you are and, since you are, I needed to keep you safe from that shit you just experienced outside because I didn’t want you jumpin’ in your goddamned car again and findin’ yourself a new Carnal.”

God, I hated it when he made sense especially when I was furious at him.

“Let me go, Tate,” I demanded.

“Not gonna happen,” he replied.

I strained backwards. “Let… me… go.”

“Nope, baby, you’re gonna watch in the mirror as I f**k you and I’m gonna do it until you see what I see.”

I stopped straining and stared into his eyes in the mirror.

“No,” I whispered as one of his hands slid down my belly and the other one ducked under my shirt and curled around my breast.

“Yes,” he whispered back.

“Tate –”

His hand cupped me between my legs and his other thumb slid across my nipple. I bit my lip and watched his eyes drop to his hand at my sex.

“Wood’s a player,” he whispered bizarrely as his fingers pressed in between my legs, his middle one hitting the spot, my hands moved to curl around the edge of the counter and his thumb did another swipe at my nipple. “He’s hit every decent piece in three counties.”

His middle finger pressed deeper and made a lazy circle.

“Tate, please –”

Tate’s head dropped and his bearded lips tickled my neck.

“Saw him come outta the garage at you, I knew,” he muttered against my skin. “I was strugglin’ with it but I knew then. I knew you were my girl.”

My breath stuck in my throat as his finger did another lazy circle, his tongue touched my neck and his finger and thumb rolled my nipple.

Oh God, but it was beautiful.

My hands grasped the counter and I tried to stay strong.

“Tate –”

His finger stopped pressing and his hand slid up and then down, this time in my panties and the pressure came back, skin to skin, another lazy circle.

Delicious.

My body trembled and Tate’s mouth moved to my ear.

“He didn’t f**k you while I was gone. A miracle. Respect. He knew what he had in his bed.”

“Please,” I whispered and his finger and thumb gently tugged my nipple and my breath snagged.

“Even if he f**ked you, I woulda still won you back. Mad as I was when I left you that night in the hall at the bar, I was half over it by the time I got to my bike, by the time I saw you at the pool the next day, mostly just nursin’ it ‘cause I’m a dick.”

“Stop,” I breathed and I meant him talking. My body was too far gone to want him to stop doing what he was doing to it.

His finger slid back and I opened my legs to allow it access.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured in my ear and reached even deeper, his finger sliding inside.

My head fell back on his shoulder. “Tate.”

His teeth nipped my ear and his finger started moving in and out.

“Wet, baby,” he whispered there.

“Yes,” I whispered back and turned my head toward him.

His came up, he knew what I wanted and, thank God, he gave it to me. He kissed me, deep and hard as he finger f**ked me, the fingers of his other hand rolling my nipple, his thumb tweaking my clit. He kept kissing me while his hands moved on me until my breath started coming in gasps. I was so close, my h*ps were moving with his hand between my legs, reaching for it.

His head came up, my eyes fluttered open and saw his on me.

“Look, baby,” he urged.

I ground down on his hand and it stopped moving, his finger deep inside and his eyes went to the mirror.

“Jesus, Laurie, baby, look at you.”

My eyes followed his, mainly because I wanted him to keep at me and I’d do just about anything he told me to do to get it.

But what I saw made my heart skip and my legs fail.

Tate, dark, tall, behind me, his hands on me; me, blonde, my face flushed, my eyes hooded, tucked tight against him. A perfect fit, made to be there. A perfect match, made to be together.

Made to be there.

Made to be together.

We looked great.

We looked hot.

We looked beautiful.

My eyes went to his in the mirror.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, his eyes locked on mine, then he shoved his face in my neck, his arm fastened around my ribcage again but his finger slid out of me, then my panties were yanked down passed my h*ps and then I felt him working his jeans at my backside.

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