Shut up, I internally chastise my heart, which seems to be doing some kind of waltz in my chest. I sit up as soon as he steps away and starts pulling off his suit. “So I’m up. Now. You wanted to talk, so let’s get this over with.”
Tate is yanking on his tie, pulling it loose from his neck. He walks to the side of the bed and stares down at me. “I didn’t say I wanted to talk. I said I wanted to see you.”
“Well, hi!” I wave up at him, feeling even smaller than I am because he looks so big hovering over me. “I’m here. You saw me.”
He grins. It’s feral. “I haven’t seen all of you. Yet.”
He wants to have sex? Umm… well… okay. Yeah. I will. I'm weak and I know it. But I need to know if this is goodbye sex or not. If he's still sleeping with the woman in the video, then this is goodbye sex. "Listen, about that video."
“It’s old,” Tate replies. “Someone I used to have an arrangement with… she sent it a couple weeks ago but I never bothered to open it and I just didn’t… I didn’t know it would be that. I’m sorry you heard it.”
“Okay.” I mentally stamp down the hope in my chest because this isn’t exactly what I wished for. It’s still short of what my heart longs for. “So… is there anyone else you’re currently also in an arrangement with? Besides me?”
“Nope. Just you,” Tate replies and continues to undo his tie. “I scored a shorty tonight.”
“I saw.”
“I’m one goal from tying my dad’s record.”
“I know.”
He’s working on the buttons to his shirt now, one after the other, unveiling his buff chest little by little to my eager gaze. His hair is hanging over his forehead as he looks down at me. I’m in the same shorts and tank I’ve been in all day but he’s looking at me like it’s sexy lingerie. “And my uncle was there tonight. The PR team wants to have my dad there at the next game because they’re sure I’m gonna tie him then.”
“Are you sure?”
"Yeah. I think it's gonna happen." Tate grins at me, but there's a nervous glint in his eye. "So I've got a meeting scheduled tomorrow afternoon with my coach and the head of PR. So I can tell them about Dylan. But first I'm calling my parents in the morning. Video chat so they can meet him after I tell them."
I sit up straighter, tucking my legs under me. “Oh my God, Tate, this is actually happening?”
“Yeah. The lawyer is still waiting on the birth certificate but he says I can go ahead.” Tate yanks off his shirt. “Can you help me get undressed? My pants seem a little tight and I might need help with the zipper.”
I drop my gaze and there, right in front of me, is his erection straining the expensive fabric of his suit pants. I bite back a grin at his cheeky behavior and force myself to look him in the eye. “Tate, this is a big emotional deal. You can’t be thinking about sex right now.”
"I think about sex every time you're in the room with me," Tate tells me and when I don't reach for his pants he does. First, he starts to undo his belt. "I think about how wet you always are for me. How ready. How good you taste. How you let me look at you spread and swollen with need and you don’t even blush. You like my eyes on your pussy. I think about how much I love to watch you come.”
His pants drop to his ankles and I stare at that bulge in the front of his charcoal boxer-briefs. My God… I am so wet I’ll be surprised if there isn’t a damp spot on my jean shorts. “Tate…”
He bends down again, roughly putting a hand under my chin and tipping my head up so he can capture my lips with his own. The kiss is powerful. Raw. Perfect.
I have to give in. My body has hit the override switch on my mind and I reach down and pull my tank top over my head. “Good girl,” he whispers as his hands reach for the button on my shorts.
Moments later, after he rolls on a condom, I’m naked on the bed with Tate on top of me sliding his cock into me with a steady swing. It isn’t a struggle. “You make me so wet,” I confess. “I can’t even watch you play hockey without my clit tingling.”
“Has it always been like that?”
“Since I was a teenager,” I admit.
He nips on the side of my neck before groaning in satisfaction, like my words are bringing him closer to climax. He cants his hips and I wrap my legs around his waist. Missionary is my least favorite position because I never come this way, but I know that’s about to change. It’s impossible for me not to orgasm with Tate. His left knee bends and he lifts his torso with his arms on either side of my head and he bucks again. He manages to hit that secret spot with the tip of his dick. The one that makes my limbs prickle with pleasure and my stomach quiver.
“Oh God…” I pant.
“I will never stop wanting you, Mallory,” he whispers into my ear, his rhythm as shaky as his confession. “It’s like I’m addicted to you.”
He can’t really be saying this. Not to me. This goes beyond everything I dared to dream about him. I arch my back and press the heels of my feet into that round, hard ass of his. “Tate… I… God…”
“Come baby girl,” Tate begs me. “Come all over my dick.”
And then I do.
