Page 16 of On His Knees
Summer nods but doesn’t probe any deeper. “I’m not the marrying type,” she says, so quietly, so softly...with such gut-wrenching sorrow, the protector in me comes out full force. Why wouldn’t she be the marrying type? Hell, my granddad wants to marry her. At least I’m pretty sure he does. He said he wanted to bring her into the family. Thoughts of Granddad help me get myself back on track. I give myself a two-second mental lecture and remind myself why I’m eating cheeseburgers with this girl in my chalet. “I’m just...” Her head lifts, and she almost looks like she wants to make a confession. “I’m not...” Her words fall off and she pushes her plate away. “I’m full,” she says, redirecting the conversation before she takes another big pull from her beer.
I shove my plate away, too, as she settles on her stomach, braces her elbows on the floor and cups her face in her hands. She bends her knees, points her feet toward the loft, and the sight of her like that is almost more than I can bear. I drain half the contents in my bottle with one easy swallow, hoping the liquid will cool the blood racing through my veins.
“Why do you think you’re not the marrying type, Summer?” I push, wanting to know more about her, even though it shouldn’t matter. After tonight I don’t plan on ever setting eyes on her again.
She rolls to her back, meets my gaze straight on as she spreads her arms, her fingers fluttering over the shag carpet. “You want to know what I think?” she asks, as dark lashes fall over lust-imbued eyes. Pink invades her cheeks, everything about her body language telling me what she wants—and that she’s playing to win.
I am so screwed.
“What?” I ask anyway, my gaze trailing the length of her lush body as she sprawls out in front of the fire. The sexy sight is torturous, and I must be a damn masochist, because I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.
“What I think is, I don’t believe in long term either, Tate.” She goes up on her elbows, and the fire in the hearth behind her flares, the light glistening off the caramel highlights in her hair. Goddammit, I want to kiss her. Need to kiss her. Need to taste every inch of her body. Okay, I’m in trouble here. “But tonight...well, I don’t believe it’s about thinking. It’s about taking what you want, and what I want is you.”
“Summer,” I begin, and take a deep breath, then another, working to keep my head on straight as all the blood rushes south. This dangerous pull toward her is messing with my ability to think straight.
She gestures with a crook of her finger, and my resolve loosens. How can she tear me apart so easily, make me forget who I am and why I’m here?
“Come here
...” she says, her voice a low, throbbing murmur I can’t ignore.
Shit.
Unable to help myself I fall over her, press her into the plush carpet. Now that I got her right where I want her, I should call her out, expose her. But in this moment, as her soft, sexy body moves beneath mine, teasing my cock and arousing me in ways no other woman ever has, only one thought drives me: getting her naked and getting my cock inside her.
I dip my head, my lips crash over hers. I kiss her like a man starved, a man taking his dying breath. I ravage her mouth, pillage it, thrust my tongue inside to taste the depths of her. When I realize I’m going at her like an animal—a fucking caveman—I tear my mouth away, look at her kiss-swollen lips, note the way she’s panting beneath me, as lost in me as I am in her.
“Summer,” I say, pushing her hair from her face, desperate to get myself together. Her clip falls out, and her hair tumbles free. I grip the long strands, roll them around my hand three times and tug. Her lips part, a sexy, whimpering noise catching in her throat. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on.
“Tate,” she whispers, and somewhere in the back of my mind, where one working brain cell still exists, a warning light flashes.
End this, Tate. End it now.
“Please,” she begs again, her soft hands sliding around my back, palming my muscles and pulling me harder against her lush body. As images of us fucking infiltrate my brain, I spread her legs wider with mine, and she wraps them around my back, centering my hard cock on her sex.
My lips go to her throat, desperate to taste her skin...between her legs. Yeah, this is all kinds of messed up. I’m not just crossing a line with her. I’m stomping on it, chewing it up and spitting it out, but holy shit, after one sweet taste I’m too far gone to turn back now.
“Yes...” she murmurs, and I hesitate for a brief second, trying to remember why this is wrong when she once again whispers, “Please...”
And just like that, I’m done for.
CHAPTER SIX
Summer
“TATE...YES,” I murmur when he kisses my jawline, his breath like fire on my skin. His hands roam my body, explore my curves and I arch into him, wanting him to brand every inch of me. If I only have one night with this guy, I plan to make the best of it.
I tug at his sweater, and he goes back on his heels. In typical man fashion, he reaches over one shoulder, grabs a fistful of the material, and in one smooth motion peels it over his head. Firelight glistens off his gorgeous frame and I take my time to stare at his hard body, and abs I could play a game of Plinko on. He’s absolutely breathtaking, better than I could ever have imagined.
“Like what you see?” he asks, a small grin curling up the corner of his mouth, making him look so damn sexy. My God, I definitely won the man lottery tonight.
“Love what I see,” I say, holding nothing back. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a man—and never with a man quite like this one—that I plan for this night to go out with a bang. I haven’t been completely honest with him about who I am, but I’ve been honest about everything else, and right now, in this moment, there is no room for anything but the truth.
“Keep going?” I say.
He grins. “It’s your turn.”
I sit up and slowly pull my sweater over my head, then shake my hair out. I catch the heat in his eyes, and while I sense he wants to tear my clothes off, get me naked sooner rather than later, it’s easy to tell he’s struggling for patience, holding it together by a fine thread so he can watch me undress for him. I’m anxious to have him naked, too, to put my hands all over him, but right now he wants a show, so I’ll snap that thread later.