Sweet Dreams

  “You said you were waitin’ for something special and he took away your chance to figure out that you were carryin’ it with you all this time. You are special, Laurie.”

  No.

  No.

  I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, tilting my head down and to the side, automatically trying to block out his words.

  Tate’s mouth came to my ear. “That gay guy, those hippies, even fuckin’ Twyla showed up to have your back tonight. They did it because they see what your folks see, what I see, they did it because somethin’ special hit Carnal two months ago and they did it because you go all out to protect beauty like that.”

  His words hit me like a silken blow and my breath hitched as I swallowed a sob.

  His mouth went to my neck and he spoke there. “You’re right, baby. I like the idea of Jonas knowin’ you, learnin’ from you, how to work hard and be smart and treat people. But you’re wrong. You’re in my bed because I’ve never had beauty like that and I got a shot at it and you think you can twist our shit in your head into something ugly, fuck that. I won’t stop until I set it straight.”

  My eyes opened, I looked at him in the mirror and his head came up to look at me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had a son?”

  “Because Wood was right,” Tate answered instantly.

  “Sorry?” I asked.

  “Because, shit like that, not Jonas but what I got in my future to beat that bitch and get him safe, you don’t lay on a good woman when you and her are just startin’ out. Especially not when another woman’s been brutally murdered and your old lady’s Dad had a heart attack. You stick close, you stand strong and you work to hook her deep and then you lay it on her. I want you where you are.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “So yeah, I played you and I’d do it again, no joke, I’d do it. And I’d do it no hesitation. I needed to know you were what the promise of you seemed to be because I haven’t been good with that shit in the past and, if you were, I needed to make certain you stayed where I wanted you to be.”

  “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 fuckin’ 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 fuck 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 fuck 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 fucked 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 fucked 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 hips 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 hips and then I felt him working his jeans at my backside.

  “Tilt your ass for me, Laurie,” he muttered into my neck and I did as asked, I felt the tip of his cock and then he thrust inside.

  My head flew back.

  He started moving and I watched in the mirror as Tate fucked me, one arm wrapped around my ribcage, his torso bent over mine, his other hand between my legs, finger at my clit, his eyes on mine in the mirror.

  “Do you see it?” he demanded, his thrusts building in power, his fin
ger circling faster.

  “I see it,” I breathed, the urge building inside me, my hips rearing back to meet his thrusts.

  He drove in, burying himself to the root and stayed planted.

  “Why do I want you here, Laurie?” he growled.

  “Don’t stop, baby,” I pleaded.

  He ground his cock deeper. “Why do I want you here?”

  “Tate –”

  “Why, baby?”

  “We’re perfect,” I whispered. “We fit,” I kept whispering and pressed back into his hips. “Honey, I’m made to be here.”

  He pulled out so fast I gasped and then I was over his shoulder again and he walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom. With a bump of his shoulder he tossed me on the bed, straightened and yanked his t-shirt off. Then he reached down and tore my undies down my legs. Then he spread them wide and he was covering me, back inside, thrusting harder, faster, pounding. God, ecstasy.

  His mouth took mine in a deep, wet kiss then I tore it away.

  “Tate,” I moaned as it hit me, my nails scored a path up his back and my spine arched, pressing my torso into his.

  It took me awhile to ride the wave and come down and, when I did, he wasn’t done.

  “Wrap me up, Laurie,” he groaned between grunts and I folded my limbs tight around him. His mouth came to mine. “There it is,” he muttered then growled deep and plunged deeper as he came.

  I felt it and listened and held him tight and when he was done his teeth tagged my lower lip, giving it a gentle tug before he let it go and his tongue slid along it.

  I closed my eyes, my mind completely clear and just let myself feel the sweet path of his tongue.

  It went away and stayed away and I noticed I didn’t even feel his breath against my lips so I opened my eyes again.

  Tate’s head was tipped back and he was staring beyond me, a hint of surprised puzzlement in his face.

  “What –?” he started, stopped, a slow, lazy smile spread on his face and his eyes moved to mine.

  I was so busy watching his lips framed by his beard smiling it took awhile to feel his body’s gentle tremors and awhile longer to realize it was silent laughter.

  My gaze flew from his mouth to his eyes.

  “Tate?”

  “Baby,” he whispered, “you bought a new comforter.” My breath caught, his head twisted and he looked at the head of the bed then at me, his body shuddering less gently now, it was full on quakes. “And sheets.”

  Oh God, he noticed. He’d been on the bed for approximately two seconds after fucking me and he noticed I bought a new comforter and sheets.

  Why was I such an idiot?

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  He burst out laughing, his hips pressing deep into mine making me gasp as his hands tagged the back of my knees, pulled them up and tucked my legs tight to his sides.

  “You bought me sheets,” he repeated, his voice clogged with laughter.

  “Um… actually,” I started timidly, “I bought them for me, seeing as I was sleeping in them.”

  His head came up. “Yeah? And the comforter?”

  Yes, such an idiot!

  “I was sleeping under that too.”

  “And you didn’t think about me sleepin’ under it?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “So, you go back to the hotel, you take them with you?”

  “Um…” I hesitated. “No,” I whispered.

  He grinned. “Right.”

  “Yours were a little… well…”

  His head moved so he could look back at the sheets at the head of the bed then over mine at the comforter then his eyes came back to mine.

  “Yeah, Ace, I can see these are a whole lot better than mine.”

  “Um…”

  “High-class girl, nice fancy sheets.”

  I felt my body get tense.

  “They aren’t fancy.”

  “Babe, in comparison, they are.”

  They were, darn it all.

  I made no reply. Tate’s face got closer.

  “Ace, you wanna tell me why, half the time after I finish fuckin’ you, I’m still inside you and I’m laughing?”

  “I’ve no idea,” I replied haughtily.

  His face changed, his eyes warmed, his hand came up, fingers sliding into the hair at the side my head and his mouth came to mine.

  Then he whispered, “I do.”

  I fought back my more than pleasant response to all of that but I only won the fight in my head. My traitorous body melted under his.

  “You weren’t supposed to notice them,” I informed him and he burst out laughing again, going so far as to throw his head back to do it, such was the hilarity of my comment.

  He slid out of me, rolled off, gained his feet by the side of the bed then tugged me to standing in front of him.

  I stood there while he shifted around me, pivoting me with him with hands at my hips and he sat down on the bed in front of me.

  He bent and tugged off his boots and socks while asking, “How did you think I wasn’t gonna notice?”

  “You’re a man, men don’t notice sheets.”

  He dropped his second boot and went after the sock, tilting his head back to look at me as he did. “Babe, we do.”

  “Well…” I muttered, feeling stupid standing in front of him, so I crossed my arms on my chest. “Whatever,” I finished lamely.

  He chuckled as he stood up and his arms wrapped around me. He kissed my neck, still chuckling, then let me go and tugged his jeans down.

  “Any other surprises? New towels? Bath mat? Did you order a new, grape Kool-Aid free zone couch?”

  “No,” I snapped, again haughty even though he was being kind of funny.

  “What happened? Not enough time?” he teased.

  “Tate, I’m not finding this funny,” I informed him, somewhat lying.

  He sat again, pulled me between his legs with an arm around my waist then fell back, taking me with him and twisting us so we were lying right in the bed. He twitched the comforter over us then came up on his forearm and looked across the room.

  “What’s the top sheet doin’ on the floor?”

  I got up on my elbows and looked where he was looking. Then my head turned to him.

  “Neeta was banging at the window and looking in. I was naked so I had to use the sheet to… um…” I stopped talking because he didn’t look amused and content anymore.

  His eyes moved to the windows.

  Then he muttered, “Fuckin’ bitch.”

  “Tate,” I called and his eyes came back to me.

  “Tomorrow, you buy curtains,” he ground out.

  “Um…” I looked at the clock on his nightstand to see it was nearly six in the morning, “it is tomorrow.”

  “What shift you got?”

  “I’m off.”

  He grinned and then came off his forearm and rested his weight mostly on me so I was forced to slide off my elbows.

  He shoved his face in my neck and stated, “Good, then we’ll buy curtains,” and he kissed my neck.

  “Tate,” I called again as he moved off me, settled on his side and pulled me into his arms, front to front, face to face.

  “Sleep, Ace,” he ordered, his voice suddenly sounding tired, “then shoppin’.”

  “Um…” I said to him, thinking about shopping with Tate and liking those thoughts, rather than thinking about Tate having a son, that scene with Neeta and all the other things I should be thinking about and I noticed his eyes were closed. “Are we done talking?”

  “For now, yeah,” he answered.

  “Um…” I mumbled again. “Perhaps we should –”

  His eyes opened and with one look into them, I quit talking.

  Then I whispered, “The lights are on.”

  His head came up then he turned, rolled out of bed and, naked, he went to the bathroom, switched out the light, went to the closet and switched out the light, went to the bedroom door and switched out the light.

&
nbsp; I watched as he came back to bed, got in and rolled back to me. His arm came around me and he pulled me close again, front to front.

  “Tate –”

  “Babe, bad guy, titty bar, lots of road, Neeta, dealin’ with you and a really sweet orgasm. Honest to God, I don’t have a lot more in me.”

  “Okay,” I whispered instantly.

  Yes, his good girl. Always a good girl, now his.

  Such.

  An.

  Idiot.

  His head bent, he touched his mouth to mine then his hands rolled me so my back was to him. He leaned in, hitching my leg with his knee in the back of mine, his arm curled around my belly, his face burrowed into my hair and I took the rest of his weight which pinned me to the bed.

  “Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered into my hair, his arm giving me a squeeze. “See you on the other side.”

  “You too, Captain,” I whispered back and stared at the light clay colored pillowcase in front of me, the water-colored brushstrokes of sun hitting it.

  He’d noticed the sheets.

  I felt Buster jump up on the bed, she walked up Tate’s and my legs to our hips and then back down and her weight disappeared. She tucked herself into the crook of our knees, likely curled and ready to resume her Crazy Neeta disturbed sleep.

  It didn’t take her or her master long; both of them were out within minutes.

  I didn’t know it but it took me precisely two minutes longer to join them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Curtains

  “Ace,” I heard Tate call and my eyes fluttered open.

  My neck twisted and I saw he was sitting on the bed but was leaned down, forearm in the mattress, other hand on my waist, his face close to mine.

  “What?” I asked, mind fogged with sleep.

  “Curtains,” he answered and I closed my eyes.

  “You can get them. That big home store, outside the mall. They have a wide variety,” I informed him and snuggled my head into the pillow.

  “Laurie,” he called.

  “Mm?” I answered.

  “Babe, wake up,” he ordered and my eyes opened again.

  I looked at the clock. It was just after eleven. Way too early. No way I was getting up.

  I closed my eyes again.

  His hand slid from my waist, to my hip and back to my behind as I felt his presence invade the space around me.