Page 38 of On His Knees
I stretch like a lazy cat, my body sore but so damn satisfied. I turn to the window and examine the dark clouds. The storm will likely shut down the festivities, keep us all inside.
“Hey,” I hear from the doorway, and turn to find Tate leaning against my doorjamb, dressed in nothing but his jeans. I let my gaze move over him, indiscreet about how much I like to look at him.
“Hey yourself,” I say, and he walks to my side of the bed. The mattress dips as he sits. He touches my face. “How long have you been watching me?” I ask.
“For a few minutes.”
“Creeper much?” I tease.
His soft chuckle curls around me like a warm blanket. “You’re beautiful when you sleep.”
“Did you get any rest?”
“I did.”
“I had no idea how tired I was.” He glances at the clock, and his brow furrows. That’s when it occurs to me he has a life outside of having sex with me, and probably has to be somewhere. “Do you have to go to work?” I ask.
“No, I’m good. I don’t need to go back.”
“Oh, then do you have somewhere you have to be?”
That troubled look appears for a brief second, and then his brow is smooth again. “There is only one place I have to be, Summer,” he says, and slides his hand under the blanket. He lightly touches my sex. I moan, and it mingles with a grumbling stomach.
He grins. “Hungry?”
I nod. “Starving.”
“Do you want to go out to eat or order in?”
“How about we stay in, unless you want—”
He silences me with a soft kiss, even less hurried than earlier. His mouth lingers, our breaths merge. “Oh, I want,” he says, as he pulls back and produces his phone. He runs his fingers across it, then sets it on his nightstand. “Food will be here in about thirty minutes.”
I race my fingers through his hair. How is it I want this man again? We’ve been having nonstop sex, and yet I still crave him.
“Can you take me again, Summer?” he asks, his eyes the deepest shade of blue I’ve ever seen them. He slides a hand under the blankets again, and with the lightest caress, he strokes my clit. “Or are you too sore?”
Never too sore for him, I open my legs. “I’m already wet for you.”
He stands, and makes quick work of his pants. Without a word he falls over me, his cock pushing into my body, as his lips find mine. He moans into my mouth and I murmur with him as he penetrates me. We move together, our bodies in sync, the dance of intimate lovers. Needing him closer, I wrap my arms around him, and hang on because what we’re doing here, what we did in front of the fire hours ago, has awakened something in me, something I fear there is no coming back from. Something that could destroy me when I leave here in a few days.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tate
I FLICK THE TV ON, turning to the news station tracking the storm, and then sit cross-legged in front of the fire with Summer. Outside the wind is howling, the festivities shut down for the night. I have nowhere to go, and neither does she. Her friends are at the restaurant bar downstairs, finding their own entertainment as Summer and I hang out in her suite. We’re eating the pasta and salads I had delivered, as the flames flicker in the hearth.
My mind travels back to earlier today, when she went down on all fours, offering me her ass. I nearly lost my shit then and there. If I do take her like that, then I’ll have been inside her everywhere, claimed and marked every inch of her body. Only problem is, having sex without a condom really screwed me up. Taking all of her just might do me in. Guilt stirs in me. I want all of her, yet I’m lying to her. And I haven’t completely abandoned my plan to learn more about her and her situation with Granddad. I know I shouldn’t want her this badly, but I can’t help it.
“It’s kind of cozy in here,” she says, her honeyed hair piled high on her head as she digs into her food like she’s starving. I suppose she is after all the exertion she’s been through. That brings a smile to my face, despite my inner turmoil. I like seeing her all soft and comfortable like this, dressed contentedly in her yoga pants and T-shirt, the marks on her body a sweet reminder of the things we did to each other over the last couple of days.
Thunder rumbles overhead, and I think back to the dog I had as a child. He was terrified of storms. “You’re not afraid of thunder and lightning, are you?” I tease.
“No, I actually love it.” She grins. “Especially here in the mountains. I’ve never seen the sky light up quite like this before.” Her smile falters and she crinkles her nose. “It’s too bad it shut down Winterfest for the night though. I’m sure a lot of people who came here for it will be disappointed.”
I take in her frown, the sincerity in her eyes. Summer Love cares deeply about others, of that I’m certain. “Let’s hope they’re making the best of it, like we are,” I say.
She twirls her pasta and puts it into her mouth. “This is delicious, Tate.” She glances at me, her brown eyes sated and sleepy. “How did you know pasta was my favorite?”