Page 26 of Tate: Gemini King
“It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I left you tied up with your ass in the air.”
“Tate!” I hiss. “Cormac can hear you.”
Cormac glances at me in the rearview mirror and I wish I could sink into the backseat of the car. Tate is about as tactful as a rhino fart. He leans over and kisses my cheek. It reminds me of how he kissed me on the ground. We’re getting mud all over this truck and the last thing I should want to feel is Tate’s lips against my cheek. But damn, he is such a good kisser.
I turn my cheek away from him.
“Don’t worry. I will be very discreet,” Cormac says. “Especially since Tate owes me money.”
“Right,” Tate says with frustration, turning his attention back to me. “We can talk here.”
“I don’t want to talk to you. I ghosted you, Tate. Take a hint.”
I try to ignore my racing heart. Or the way my neck and lips still feel warm from Tate kissing me. I should be fighting him more. He leans in, and his natural scent just makes me even angrier.
“You don’t get to take Terrorist without discussing a custody agreement.”
“You left him alone to starve,” I remind Tate, who surely remembers that his ass disappeared for almost a full day. “I think the court would agree I get full custody.”
Tate’s cheeks turn red. I’ve never seen him show this much emotion, and I get a small surge of pleasure from watching his ass sweat a little bit.
“Listen, I don’t know how you got free, but I was at work helping people and saving lives. Trust me, where I really wanted to be was right between your legs.”
“Hot damn…” Cormac grunts.
Tate clears his throat.
“Sorry,” Cormac mutters.
I have never wanted to put my hands around Tate’s neck more. But he just keeps smiling at me. My curse did not work. At all.
“I’m glad you’re both okay. I swear, Natasha. I’m sorry. Once you read the news, you’ll understand.”
“Why the hell would I read the news? It’s always some negative shit.”
“Fair point,” Tate says. He keeps looking at me. I hate how vulnerable I feel beneath his gaze. He shouldn’t have this much power over me when he’s crazy, literally kidnapped me, and now… he’s dragging me back to the place I just moved out of. What type of man responds to a woman ghosting him like this?
He puts his hand on my thigh and when I try to yank my thigh away from him, Tate’s grasp only tightens.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think, Natasha. I can’t live there without you. I just can’t.”
“You are the worst roommate I’ve ever had.”
Tate smirks. “I know. I’ll be a much better boyfriend than a roommate if you give me a chance.”
He must be joking. I know Tate is an insane asshole, but how would dating him make our situation better?
“We don’t like each other,” I remind him. But the heat from my lips and necks has already spread to my chest and my stomach.
“You don’t kiss me like you hate me,” Tate says, touching my thigh.
The feeling gets worse. I don’t want him to take his hand away.
“I have never kissed you.,” I protest forcefully.
Tate leans over, ignoring the mud all over us and the back of the car. I hate him for this. No. I hate myself even more for not pulling away from him. I feel so fucking weak but my body reacts to Tate by leaning into him. Once I smell him, I lose myself because my pussy throbs again like a total goddamn traitor.
He pulls away from me with a smile.