Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain #2)(145)

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Say it,” he demanded, going faster, beginning to pound.

“I’m going to come for you, baby.”

“No, honey, say it.”

My eyes opened, looked directly into his and I knew what he meant.

“I love you, Tate,” I whispered against his mouth.

Definitely pounding now, his hands pulling my h*ps in to meet his thrusts and I heard the whimper slide out of me as it built higher.

“Say it again,” he growled.

“I love you,” I repeated.

“Again,” he demanded but I couldn’t. It was happening.

“Baby –” I moaned.

“Fuckin’ say it,” he commanded, pounding hard now, exquisite and it hit me.

“I love you,” I whispered on a hitched breath and he knew what that meant, he’d heard it enough times and his mouth opened over mine, taking my cry.

I was still coming when his teeth bit my bottom lip, his h*ps drove into mine and he growled, “Love you too, baby. Christ,” he clipped, the power behind his thrusts building even higher. “Fuck, but I love you.”

His mouth opened over mine, his tongue invaded and then he groaned deep into my throat, his h*ps bucking hard, pounding me into the tile as he came.

He held me aloft as we both came down but his mouth left mine to trail down to my neck and his c**k moved slow again, gliding in and out. I wrapped both my arms tight around him and held on.

He loved me. Tatum Jackson, ex-football star, ex-cop and current badass bounty hunter hot guy loved me.

He loved me.

I closed my eyes and smiled.

“Feel safe, baby?” he asked my neck.

“Yeah, Captain,” I answered, holding tighter with all my limbs.

He slid in and stayed there, I opened my eyes and his head came up so he could look into them.

“So my good girl’s gonna get dirty for me?” he asked, his lips slightly turned up at the ends.

I pulled back, stupidly, since I was tight to the wall and had nowhere to go. He felt and it and pressed deeper into me, his lips turning up more.

I bit my lip, let it go and mumbled, “Um…”

“Don’t worry, Ace, I’ll break you in easy.”

I’d thought about the stuff we’d already done. None of it was dirty, exactly, but a lot of it was wild and out of control so I wondered what dirty would entail.

“Maybe you should explain dirty,” I suggested.

“More fun to show you.”

“Tate –”

He stopped me speaking by touching his mouth to mine.

Then he said, “You can trust me Laurie.” His voice got deeper, that growl vibrating through it. “Swear to God, baby, there will never be a time when you can’t. Yeah?”

I looked at his face. He wasn’t smiling anymore, not even a hint of it. This was important. He was serious.

“Yes,” I answered softly which earned me another light kiss.

He slid out and dropped me to my feet. Then he turned me to the spray, my back to him, his face went into my neck and his arms went around me, one going south, his fingers gently invading to wash me clean.

We got out, toweled off and I lotioned because I was in Colorado and as exhausted, and sated, as I was, there was no way I was missing lotioning. Tate ran his hands through his hair. I combed mine. We brushed our teeth standing together at the sink. Tate left the bathroom while I moisturized. I walked into the bedroom, around the bed to the closet. I grabbed undies and a shelf bra camisole, pulled the towel from around me, tugged them on and met him in bed.

“My hair’s going to be a rat’s nest tomorrow, sleeping on it wet,” I stated inanely because what did you do after you had fantastic sex in the shower all the while sharing avowals of love with a badass biker?

Tate turned out the light and then turned to me, pulling me face to face.

“Lucky that’s an easy fix, Ace.”

“It means you can’t look at me first thing in the morning,” I informed him and he burst out laughing and pulled me deeper into his arms.

I snuggled into his chest, Tate kissed the top of my head.

“Wiped, Ace,” he muttered.

“Okay,” I muttered back.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered.

“You too, Captain,” I whispered back.

And for the first time, even after what had transpired that day and that night and three refills of diet pop, I fell asleep before Tate.

* * * * *

My body jolted and I came awake when I heard the noise.

My eyes opened and I saw Tate’s back in the moonlight. I was snuggled up to him, my arm draped around his waist.

I came up on an elbow at the same time Tate did. We both looked over our shoulders to the window.

Another rap sounded on it and I could see the pale knuckles and the ghostly pale face surrounded by dark hair that almost, but not quite, faded with the night.

Neeta.

“You have got to be… f*ckin’… shittin’… me,” Tate whispered slowly as we both lay there, looking over our shoulders at the window.

“I think, since we have curtains,” I whispered back, “we might want to remember to use them.”

“Tate!” she shouted and her voice shouting my man’s name in the middle of the night while she was standing out on his deck after she made his life a living hell because he believed in her, he wanted to guide her back to herself and she didn’t let him; after she touched Jonas the way she did; after guessing that she didn’t touch him much better his whole life either physically or emotionally; after the night we had, Sunny in the hospital, Shambles in shambles; after the last few months of topsy-turvy road guiding us to each other – I lost it.