Colorado 02 Sweet Dreams (21 page)

That desire to giggle got harder to bite back.

 “This isn’t my problem,” I reminded him.

“Honey –”

“Brad, let me go, it isn’t my problem,” I repeated.

He pulled me even closer and his face dipped down. “I’m here because you were right. We can work on this. We can go back to what we had.”

I started struggling again. “No we can’t.”

“We were good together once. Then you started to let yourself go…”

I jerked back but not successfully out of his arms and my eyes narrowed on him. “I started to let myself go?”

“You know I don’t like a woman to carry extra weight,” he explained.

He could not be
believed!

“I started eating because I sensed you were fucking around on me!” I shouted.

“Darling –”

“Stop calling me that!”

“You’re back,” he replied, his eyes going over my hair and down to my chest before coming back to mine, “better than ever.”

I stopped pushing against his wrists and pressed my hands against his chest. “Get out!”

He ignored me. “And
we
can be back and better than ever.”

“Seriously, this is
not
cool.”

His face got in my face. “I know what you’re doing with that guy. I get it. It hurts, honey, you got yours back. We both struck our blows, learned our lessons, now we can move on.”

“I wasn’t striking a blow, you jerk, we’re divorced,” I shouted, losing it. “You fucked Hayley, carrying on with her for five years while we were
committed to each other
and
bound
legally!
You wanted out and I let you out and moved on. Tate has not one thing to do with
you!
”

“Honey, you know you want me back. You practically begged to take me back even knowing what happened. You fell apart when I left.”

I started pushing, squirming in earnest, rearing back and shrieking, “Fuck you!”

Finally, I was getting somewhere. He was struggling to control me.

“Ree –”

“Let me…!”

I didn’t get out the word “go” because I was suddenly released but Brad wasn’t the one who released me. Tate was there, drenched in sweat wearing a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, black sweatpants which were cut off at mid-thigh and running shoes. We’d been so entrenched in our drama that we didn’t hear him come in.

Tate had hold of the back of Brad’s golf shirt, he pulled him back then let fly and Brad staggered five paces before he righted himself.

He planted his feet and scowled up at Tate. “Put your hand on me again and I’ll sue!” Brad shouted.

Tate advanced, not saying a word. Then he put his hand on Brad, scrunching the material of his shiny, blue golf shirt in one big fist and shoving him backwards to the door. Once there, he jerked him forward making Brad lurch like a ragdoll. Brad’s hands went to Tate’s wrist to pull it free, Tate leaned beyond Brad, yanked open the door and then shoved him through.

Brad reeled back and righted himself halfway across the wide hall.

“You asshole!” Brad shouted.

“I see you again, it won’t be pretty. I find out
she
sees you again, you’ll be breathin’ through a fuckin’ tube. You get me?” Tate growled.

“Fuck you!” Brad yelled.

Tate shut the door. I stared at it, frozen to the spot.

Tate turned to me.

“How’d he get in here?” Tate asked.

I was still staring at the door but at his question my head jerked and I looked at him. “I opened it.”

“You opened it?” Tate asked and I was too overwrought by the latest scene to let his tone penetrate.

“You…” I swung an arm out indicating in its wide sweep the nightstand, “left your keycard. I thought it was you.”

Tate lifted up a hand and between two fingers was a keycard. Then he flicked his hand and the keycard went sailing. I watched it slice through the air and then flutter to the floor.

“Two of us in this room, Ace, two keycards,” he said and my eyes went to him. When they did, he jerked his hand, finger extended to the door. “Know what this is?”

“A door?” I asked stupidly.

“A peephole,” he bit back then moved his hand to flick the security latch closed. “Know what that is?”

“Captain –”

He advanced and the aggressive way he did it made me retreat. It was dawning on me he was pissed and he wasn’t pissed at Brad. He was pissed
at me
.

I stopped when my legs hit the chair to the desk. He stopped when he was in my space. I tilted my head way back to look at him.

“You got great hair, babe.”

“Tate –”

“Thick.”

“Tate –”

“Soft.”

“Tate,” I whispered.

“Shame it gets hacked off with a knife after some guy
rapes you with that knife!
” He finished on a roar.

My body jolted.

“Tate!”

“There’s bad guys out there, Ace.
Bad
. Do things to you that’ll make you glad you end up dead. You don’t open a goddamned door not knowin’ who’s behind it.”

“I thought it was you.”

“Well it wasn’t.”

“Tate –”

“He fuck you?” Tate asked suddenly and my head jerked again.

“Brad?” I asked back, confused.

Tate leaned in and bellowed, “
Wood!
”

“No!” I shouted back.

Then I was flying through the air. Literally flying through the air. I bounced once on the bed and then Tate was on top of me. He was wet, he was sweaty and his weight felt great. His mouth on mine, his tongue in my mouth felt even better.

I didn’t know what got into me. I simply ignited, all thoughts left my mind and I kissed him back, wanting, desperate, wild.

I put my hands in his shirt, shoving it up and his arms lifted, his hands going between his shoulder blades and he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it away. I pushed off on a foot and rolled him, getting on top. I kissed him then my mouth slid through his beard, down his jaw, his neck, all the while my hands moved on him, discovering. I saw the tattoo that painted his shoulder, going up and over, down his arm and slithering down his chest. I was too into what I was doing to see what it was but I followed it and kept going until my mouth hit his nipple. Once there, I flicked it with my tongue then I sucked it between my lips.

Half a second later I was on my back and my t-shirt was going up. I lifted my arms and it was gone. Then Tate’s hand slid into my panties, right in, and I felt one of his long fingers fill me as his mouth latched onto my nipple and pulled it deep.

That felt so good, my back left the bed, arching straight into the air. My fingers slid into his damp hair and I moaned, “Tate.”

His finger slid out of me and hit the spot. His mouth sucked deeper and his finger moved and it hit me, it was coming, I knew it.

“Tate.” It was a whimper.

I lost both his mouth and hand and my eyes flew open.

“Not without me,” he growled and he was moving.

His hands grasped my panties at either side of my hips and tugged down. When they were gone and I felt Tate leave the bed, I got up on my elbows to see him standing at its foot. He pulled down his shorts and I saw all of him and all of it was equally beautiful in a way that knocked my ragged breath right out of me.

And
all
of him was
hard.

He grabbed my calves and yanked them apart, then pushed them up so my knees were bent. He put a knee to the bed and moved forward, releasing one of my calves, his hand wrapped around his cock and I felt his weight begin to hit me.

“You come with me inside you, Ace,” he gritted and then he was inside me, filling me, beautiful.

At the feel of him, so hard, making me so full, my back left the bed again. “Tate.”

He moved, driving deep, fast, hard. Our mouths attached, our tongues clashed. His hand went between us and he touched me and that was it. It hit me like a rocket and I combusted, my world exploding, taking me with it and I loved every nanosecond.

I tore my mouth from his and moaned, “Tate.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, still moving inside me.

I came down from the orgasm he gave me to feel his hands had spanned my hips, pulling them up to meet his thrusts and I still needed him. My legs wrapped around his hips and my hands roamed, my mouth trailed, my tongue tasted. Everywhere I could touch, everything I could reach. His sweat tasted great to me, his skin even better, the muscles under his sleek, slick skin felt amazing.

His hand left my hip, came between us again and my hips jerked.

“Honey –” I whispered against his lips.

“Hurry, baby, I’m close.”

“I don’t think I can –”

His finger rolled. “Hurry, Laurie.”

I didn’t have to hurry, he rushed me and that was that. His hips started thrusting harder, going deeper, his grunts mingling with my whimpers and then I came again. I wrapped him tight in my limbs and moaned into his mouth.

He drove deep once, twice, three times then four and five all the while he groaned into mine.

After, it felt like being with him on his bike. Out of mind but completely tuned into my body and I didn’t want to be anywhere but there, in my body, attuned to every inch of my skin and every inch of Tate that was on me and in me.

His face was in my neck when he murmured an intense, “
Damn baby
.”

I came back to my mind.

Oh my God. What had I just done?

I turned my head away and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders, giving a feeble push.

I felt his head come up. “You light up like that all the time?”

“Get off,” I whispered.

“Or just for me?”

“Please,” I was still whispering.

“Babe,” he called and I shut my eyes tight because he sounded like he was laughing. “I’m not complainin’ but, later, I might wanna take things slow and, you ignite like that…”

“It’s been a long time,” I said quietly and with deep humiliation.

“How long? A decade?”

My head righted and I glared at him because of his joke and because I didn’t think this was funny but also because when I looked at him he was smiling. “No,” I snapped.

“Longer?” he teased.

“Over a year,” I shared but I did it angrily and with a push on his shoulders.

He pressed his hips into mine and I quit pushing.

His brows were up and his tone was incredulous. “Not even self-induced?”

My glare turned molten.

His head dropped but I caught his smile getting bigger before it did. I felt his nose flick my ear and then he muttered there, “You’ve touched yourself.”

“It’s not the same,” I informed him irritably.

His head came up, he looked at me and he whispered, “No, baby, it’s not.”

I decided to go on the offense. “I’ll remind you that
you
threw me on the bed.”

His smile got even bigger. “Yeah, Ace, a day of you cryin’ in my arms, sleepin’ in my arms, kissin’ you, feelin’ your body, smellin’ your hair, your perfume, only so much a man can take. I ran for an hour, hard, didn’t even fuckin’ warm up, it didn’t touch it. Come back, deal with that fuckwad, and you’re standin’ there, all legs and hair, wearin’ my shirt. Seriously. Only so much a man can take.”

I had to admit, all of what he said made me feel like I was sliding back out of my brain and tuning into my body, a body that felt warm and happy.

I didn’t allow myself to go there.

“Will you get up? I have to take a shower and have breakfast with my family.”

He didn’t get up at first. Instead, his eyes moved over my face and hair.

Then he murmured, “Shower,” and all of a sudden he slid out of me and we were
both
up. We were on our feet and Tate had my hand. I searched the floor frantically to find his t-shirt in order to snatch it up, put it on and hide my nudity but he dragged me toward the bathroom.

“Tate!” I snapped, yanking at his hand to no avail.

He flipped on the switch and pulled me straight to the shower, reaching in and turning it on.

I tried to yank my hand away again but Tate responded by giving it a sharp tug so I fell forward, nearly into him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, watching him reach in to put a hand under the shower spray.

He turned to me. “In,” he ordered.

“Sorry?” I breathed then his hands were at my hips and he was shoving me in so I had no choice but to climb over the side of the tub and into the shower.

Tate came in after me and slid the curtain closed.

“Um…” I mumbled, my heart beating fast.

He had a great body, every inch of it. I didn’t know how old he was but I knew how old I was and I might not have back fat anymore and my arms and shoulders were moving straight toward killer because Tyler was Mr. Decline Push Up but the rest of me…

“Tate,” I said turning to face him, my forearms covering my breasts but he was examining the little bottles of stuff the hotel left for you in the shower.

He picked a bottle and moved forward so I had to step back and was fully under the spray.

Then I felt his fingers slide through my hair.

“Can we –?” I started.

“Do you first,” Tate muttered. “Then you can get out and finish gettin’ ready.”

“Do me?”

 He pulled me forward, so far forward my wet body was plastered against his.

I blinked up at him through the residual water sliding down my face and by the time I could focus his fingers were in my hair. They were strong, working at my hair and scalp.

Heaven.

I’d always loved that, someone playing with my hair which was why, when Tate did it the night before, I could relax and fall asleep watching TV with my head on his stomach. In Phoenix, I went to a particular salon and paid extra just because they gave fifteen minute head massages when they shampooed your hair.

I melted into him and tilted my head forward.

“That feels nice,” I whispered.

He didn’t reply, just kept washing my hair then he gently moved me under the spray, using his big hands on either side of my head to tip it back, his fingers gliding through my hair to get the soap out.