Authors: Elle Aycart
He swept his gaze over her. Her skirt was bunched at the
waist. Her face was flushed, her swollen lips parted in a sexy O, and her hair
cascading wildly all over the place. Fuck, she was so beautiful, and he loved
her so much. Even if he lived to be a hundred, he would never see anything more
exhilarating than his woman taking her pleasure from him. Coming apart in his
arms, her eyes full of love, and her pussy full of cock.
He splayed his hands over her stomach, feeling her flesh
clench under his touch, then moved to grip her hips. “Love being inside you,
princess. There is no better place to be on this earth than buried deep inside
your body, surrounded by your heat,” he said as he pulled a bit out, his cock
shiny and wet from her juices, then impaled her again, slowly, watching as her
puffy folds stretched around him. Swallowing him to the hilt. “You belong to
me. Your body, your soul. Everything.”
“Yes, baby. I belong to you.”
He managed only a couple of slow strokes before he increased
his tempo, pistoning his hips up while he held her in place and groaned
hoarsely.
“I’m dying to blow, but you’ve spoiled me rotten, and I want
to come with you. Come again for me.”
“James…” she choked out as she dug her nails into his
shoulders.
“Rub your clit, gorgeous. Show me. I didn’t get to see you
jacking off; you were just teasing.”
She moved her shaky hand to her clit and began rubbing it in
circles with her index and middle fingers, her pussy immediately clenching
around him.
“Fuck, princess. So fucking hot,” he growled, his gaze glued
where they were joined. “Your pussy is squeezing the hell out of me. Like a fucking
velvet fist.”
Going out of his ever-loving mind, he watched as she worked
her clit some more, then reached to his shaft and caressed it, her nails raking
the engorged veins, touching herself and him at the same time.
Every muscle in his body was on fire, so fucking taut they
were going to snap, especially as Tate began to moan loudly and push back
harder, slamming against him.
“Jesus. Like this, princess. Let me have it. Let me have
you.”
She cried out, moving her hand faster and faster on her clit
while he pumped inside her. Fuck. He wasn’t going to survive this; his balls
were already drawn up to his cock, his semen poised on the tip, and he needed
to come more than he needed his next breath. Impaling herself on him, she
sobbed his name against his lips, and he lost the little choice he had in the
matter.
“Coming, baby,” he warned her from between clenched teeth,
but he didn’t need to, because she was already there with him.
She exploded around him, milking his cum and his mind into
oblivion, short-circuiting his every single nerve ending all at once.
After floating back, they stayed in each other’s arms for a
while, nuzzling and softly kissing. They were both covered in sweat, their
clothes rumpled. His truck smelled strongly of sex, and it was so damn hot he
could hardly breathe. He was in fucking heaven.
“You’re naughty, princess,” he whispered to her.
“I learned from the very best,” she replied with a smirk.
“Tell me again why we haven’t have sex in your truck before. I mean except that
one botched attempt down in Florida.”
He chuckled. “Because I’m not a teenager. Because I have my
own house to fuck you in. Because here I can’t touch you like you deserve.
Because if we get arrested and we have to call one of my brothers to bail us
out, we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“True. Still,” she said, gripping his cock with her muscles
and squeezing tight. “You did say that whenever I wanted, you’d be ready for
me, remember?”
“God, I’ve created a monster.”
He loved fucking her, loved that she taunted him, that she
could get so hot and bothered in a matter of minutes that she couldn’t wait to
have him inside her, but he didn’t like her trying to distract him from talking
about the wedding and what was troubling her. He’d let her get away with it
until now, but today the shit was hitting the fan—one way or another.
Tate snuggled against him the rest of the trip. She seemed
happy and relaxed, talking to him about Rosita’s, asking about his work.
Sometimes just humming to the music on the radio.
As they reached the small seaside town, she became very much
alert and scooted over to the passenger seat, watching avidly through the
window like a three-year-old outside a candy store.
“Stop, James. I remember this ice-cream shop. And there
should be a cool gift shop,” she said, pointing ahead. “Oh yes, it’s there.
Stop the car, honey. Let’s walk.”
They spent the next couple of hours walking along the main
street, Tate jumping with excitement and dragging him inside every frigging
store.
His woman was grinning from ear to ear, so fucking happy she
was glowing. She’d straightened her clothes after the episode in the car, but
she still had that just-fucked look on her face—her smile lazy, her expression
soft. Her lips puffy from his kisses.
Thank God the wet circles around her nipples were long gone,
or he would have had a riot on his hands.
Wherever she went, people engaged her in conversation. Her
smile faltered the couple of times when the locals who remembered her asked
about her family, but when she explained that her dad and Jonah had passed
away, they were very tactful, and no one insisted on details.
“They were too good for this earth,” the old lady in the
gift shop mumbled, giving Tate a hug. “And who’s this young man with you?” she
finished, glancing at James.
Tate reached for him and clasped his hand in hers. “This is
James. We’re getting married in a bit under a month.”
He greeted her with a nod. “Ma’am.”
“My. You did well for yourself.”
“Thanks,” Tate replied. “I think so too.”
“Well, I hope we’ll see you more often around here, Tate.
And bring your young man,” the old lady called as they were leaving. “We have
bridge on Wednesdays. And he’s a joy to look at.”
“We’ll try,” Tate answered, amused.
“Definitely,” James said, opening the door. “I kick ass at
bridge.” He got tons of practice humoring his dad’s friends at the Eternal Sun
resort.
The woman made a show of fanning herself. “My. Body
and
brains. Be still, my heart.”
“You really have a way with grandmas,” she whispered as they
walked away.
He chuckled. “Always trust grandmas, princess. They know
what they’re talking about.”
Tate turned to him and, going on her tiptoes, brushed a kiss
on his lips. “Yes, they do. Oh, let’s get ice cream,” she squeaked, heading for
the stand almost at a run.
“Money,” he called to her, but she’d already left him in the
dust. Man, she was a tornado today.
“I got it, honey,” she answered as she reached the stand.
“Hi. Two cones. Both triple-chocolate specials,” he heard her order as he
watched two men ogling Tate from nearby.
“Hi, beautiful,” one of them said. “I haven’t seen you
around here before. I would have remembered you.”
James narrowed his eyes on the bozo who had moved closer to
Tate and was clearly hitting on her.
“Here, let me pay for that.”
“No, thanks,” Tate curtly replied, digging in her pockets
for money.
A massive guy approached the bunch. “Beat it, Brad. Leave
the lady alone.”
“Put the money away, baby,” James ordered, moving behind her
and wrapping his arm over her chest while he gave a bill to the vendor. “Do we
have a problem?” he asked, turning toward the men and pinning them with his
stare.
The asshole who had harassed her backed off right away. The
massive guy didn’t move an inch.
“No problem, man,” he said.
Tate hadn’t taken her eyes off him. “Little Carlos?” she
asked in an incredulous tone. “Is that you?”
He broke into a blinding smile. “Not so little anymore,
preciosa
.”
“Carlos!” she shrieked and launched herself at him. He
hugged her tight. “It’s been forever since I saw you. How have you been?”
James braced his legs apart and locked eyes with him. This
Carlos was going to end up with a broken jaw if he didn’t move away from Tate.
“Tate,” Carlos said, looking warily at him. “Introduce me to
your man before he rips my head off.”
Damn right.
Tate turned to James, who pulled at her belt loop the second
she let go of the guy and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her against his
side.
“Carlos, this is James, my fiancé. James, this is Carlos, a
family friend,” she introduced them, and they shook hands. Yeah, little Carlos
his ass. This guy was built like a tank, his grip deadly strong. “Carlos’s
family runs a Mexican restaurant here in town.”
“Not anymore.”
“You closed down?”
Carlos smirked. “Not exactly. I don’t know if you remember
because you weren’t around much in the winter, but my dad had a thing for
Christmas. Went nuts with decorations and shit like that. Well, five years ago
he decided to get a real Christmas tree, and when he went about watering it, didn’t
realize the lights were on, and he managed to electrocute himself.”
“Oh God,” Tate whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.
“No, no. He survived. Apart from zinging you with an
electric shock whenever you touched him at the beginning, he made a full
recovery. But apparently he had an epiphany while on the other side. His
grandmother appeared to him and told him he had to open a sushi bar.”
And James thought his family was nuts.
“But your family is from Tijuana. Mexican food is—”
“Yep. We tried telling him, but it didn’t help. He had my
grandmother rolling maki sushi in no time.”
Tate stifled a laugh. “And how’s it going?”
“I’m sure we are the first Mexican American family to run a
sushi bar in the whole frigging universe, but apart from that we are doing
okay. Lots of fusion. You need to come visit us.”
“Sure we will.” They spoke for a little while before saying
their farewells.
“Let’s go, baby. I want to get to the beach,” James said.
On their way to the truck, Tate threw him an amused look.
“Listen, about those guys at the ice-cream stand. You know this is the
twenty-first century, don’t you?”
“I know.” And that was why he hadn’t mopped the floor with
them.
“I can take care of myself. I do it all the time in the
restaurant.”
Yeah, she didn’t need anyone to take care of her. She didn’t
need to rely on anyone. Or bother anyone. And wasn’t this the key to their
issue?
“I’m sure you can, but you’re mine, and I take care of
what’s mine. You know it. We’ve gone through this before. And the motherfucker
was hitting on a woman wearing an engagement ring in front of her man. What the
fuck? He’s lucky he has all his teeth intact right now.”
She laughed softly and shook her head but said nothing. Good,
because he wouldn’t back down. He really didn’t give a fuck what was
politically correct nowadays; protecting his woman and making sure no one
bothered her was his job. Having her fending for herself when she was in pain
or hurting wasn’t part of the deal, never mind how independent and
self-sufficient she thought she was.
They made their way to the seafront cabins on the outskirts
of Cape John. Before he had time to park properly, Tate had already jumped out
of the truck. “Wow. Everything is different but still the same, you know?”
James took her by the hand and directed her to one of the
cabins. Once on the porch, he took the keys from his pocket and opened the
door.
She looked at him, puzzled. “Did you rent it for the day?”
He shook his head. “No. I bought it, princess. This is my
wedding present to you.”
“What?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“I bought this cabin for you. For us. I wanted to give you a
place where you could remember your family with a smile on your face. A place
that holds memories that are dear to you but that don’t hurt so badly.”
She looked around, then at him, and crumpled to the floor,
breaking down in sobs.
Tate found herself airborne and then on the sofa, on James’s
lap, his strong arms tightly wrapped around her.
“It’s okay, princess. I got you. Everything is going to be
fine.”
She shook her head and sobbed even harder. Not crying was a
total impossibility, so she didn’t even try.
“Easy now. Breathe, baby,” he whispered against her hair as
he cradled her and stroke her back.
It took a while before she could get words out—words that he
could understand, that is.
“Why?” she asked into his chest.
“Why did I buy this cabin?”
She nodded.
His voice was gentle. “Because I love you, and I’d do
anything to see you smile. You need to heal, Tate, and trying to choke your
feelings down and pretend they don’t exist is not the way.”
Oh God. She ignored his last sentence, not ready to tackle
that, and gripped his shirt, her eyes not meeting his. “James, this is too
much. I can’t accept it. I can’t give you anything like this—”
“Princess,” he said, tipping her head up, forcing her to
look at him. “You don’t need to give me anything. All I want is you. You give
me you, we’re even.”
“No, we aren’t even. Not even close.” And not only because
of the house. He gave her so much of himself. All the time, every day.
“Well, on that you’re right. We aren’t even because you’re
not giving me all of you. You’re good at hiding it, but I live with you. I know
you much better than you think I do. Probably much better than you’d want me
to. I can see your pain when you think I’m not watching. The sadness. The
grief. And with the wedding it’s gotten worse.”