Authors: Elle Aycart
“Bye, Nils,” she finally complied.
“Good girl,” James mumbled against her hair.
It had taken almost half a year, but by now Tate knew him
well enough not to fight him, so she just wrapped her legs around his hips and
gave up. “Okay. Oh, James, my barbarian. Where are we going?”
He kissed her hard but short on the mouth, and put her down
as they reached his truck. “Cape John.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Cape John? Are you kidding me? I love
that place.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said as he settled her in the passenger
seat and then went around to the driver’s side.
She’d told him many times about the wonderful vacations her
family had spent there when she, Jonah, and Elle were small. She’d had a great
childhood, but those summers seemed to be on her top-five list of happiest
memories.
Visiting her parents’ place in Boston was still hard on her.
The memories the house held were still too raw—too fresh. Their summers in Cape
John, on the other hand, were a thing of the distant past, and she remembered
them with fondness. There wasn’t pain in her words when she spoke about them,
most probably because they’d stopped going there almost ten years ago. Whatever
it was, James liked it. He hated seeing her hurting.
“James, I’m not dressed for strolling around a small seaside
town.”
No, she wasn’t. She had on her Rosita’s “uniform”: black
pumps, a black pencil skirt, and a white blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a
loose knot. It was fucking sexy in a prim, buttoned-up sort of way. All she
needed was black, thick-rimmed glasses, a tighter chignon, and voilà, the
perfect secretary fantasy.
“We’ll make do.”
“By the way, why are we going there?” she asked as the truck
roared to life.
“I have a surprise.” A surprise he’d been plotting for a
while already, almost since he’d proposed and she’d accepted. He’d planned to
give it to her after their wedding, but in light of recent events, there was no
fucking way he was waiting that long.
“A good one?”
“A fucking great one.”
She looked at him hopefully. “We eloping?”
James chuckled. “No, babe. You know I wouldn’t mind, but
your mom and my aunt would flip the fuck out.”
“Yeah, they would,” she admitted, her pout damn cute.
“Especially now that they have everything arranged.”
“And you don’t really want to elope. You’ve always wanted a
traditional wedding.”
Truth be told, he didn’t care if everything was ready. He’d
marry Tate right now if that’s what she wanted, and to hell with his aunt and
her mom. The problem was, the only reason eloping appealed to her was that she
was panicking, which was totally unacceptable.
And he knew she didn’t want to skip the wedding; she’d want
to celebrate with her friends and her family, even if only half of it was
left—she’d regret it otherwise.
She shrugged and lowered her gaze. “That was before. This is
now. And you haven’t seen the price of my dress,” she added, going for
cheerful. “Or you’d change your opinion.”
“Don’t think so.”
“I can’t wait for this to be over,” she said, leaning her
head against the headrest and closing her eyes.
As her expression grew somber, James decided to lighten the
mood. “In a hurry to become Mrs. James Bowen, I see.”
He felt ten fucking feet tall when a smile tugged at her
lips. “Mrs. James Bowen sounds beautiful, but I’ve been Tate Cooper so long, I
may have an identity crisis. By the way, do you know that Italian women do not
take their husbands’ last names?”
James chuckled. It seemed his little spitfire took her
one-quarter Italian heritage very seriously, especially when it suited her.
“Babe, you not only do not speak Italian, but you’ve never even been to Italy.”
“We’re remedying that, aren’t we? And once Italian always
Italian.”
Well, two could play this game. “Good. I hear Italian women
are very submissive and obedient toward their husbands.”
Her derisive snort was loud. “So say the husbands, I’m
sure.”
Yes, he was sure too. Not that he was going to say a word.
No need to encourage her. “So I take it you’re excited about going to Italy for
our honeymoon, right?”
“Excited is the understatement of the century, honey,” she
said, reaching for his hand and entwining their fingers. “Thank you.”
He’d have preferred to go to a deserted island and spend the
whole two weeks naked with her, making love on the beach, but she wanted to go
to Lucera, the town her paternal grandmother had come from, and he was very
accommodating about what she wanted.
“If you’re in such a hurry, we could skip the night at the
honeymoon suite and head straight for the airport.”
She squeezed his hand. “No way. Not in such a hurry that I’d
pass on that. I’m dying to make love to my husband too.”
James looked at her and felt himself grow hard. She just had
to smile at him, and he was ready to go. Talking about making love to her after
they were legally bound together—it was a miracle his cock hadn’t jumped out of
his pants and attacked her already.
“Well, I’m glad to see it’s not your choice of groom that
has you so freaked out.”
Tate tensed. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head. That she still was under the stupid
impression she could hide anything from him amused and pissed him off at the
same time.
She scooted over and snuggled against him, sweetly kissing
his jaw. “Of course not. I love you, James. You know that. It’s just…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to. He
knew very well what had his woman so scared.
He kissed the top of her head as she nuzzled his neck.
“Baby, you know I’ve been keeping quiet and not pushing it, but about the
wedding—”
“Do we have to talk now?” she asked, trailing kisses over
his jaw and throat.
“Tate—”
“I know of a better way to spend our time.” And she put her
hand on his crotch.
There she went again, trying to distract him with the same
old card. His cock didn’t mind in the least being played; on the contrary, two
strokes, and he was already standing at full salute.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you off.”
He stopped her hand. “Princess—”
She noticed his reluctance and took out the big guns. “If
you’re a good boy, I may get myself off at the same time, with you watching.
What do you think?” she asked as she placed her other hand between her legs
over her skirt.
Fuck. Shit.
Were charges of public indecency solved with just a fine, or
was there jail time involved? It didn’t matter. He’d take his chances if it
meant he could see her jacking him and herself off in his truck in broad
daylight.
“I’m never a good boy,” he warned her. “And you’re playing with
fire.”
“I know. Let me make this more exciting.” She let go of him
and lifted her sweet ass, pulling her skirt up until he saw the top of her
thigh-highs and her garter. Jesus. Tate enjoyed wearing sexy underwear, even
when she was at work, which always drove him insane and ended with him fucking
her senseless all over the restaurant after closing.
Flashing a mischievous grin, she opened her legs and slowly
ran her fingers over her satin panties, up and down her slit. His cock jerked
sharply, his heart thudding at triple speed. He loved seeing Tate masturbating;
it got him so turned on he could hardly breathe, let alone form coherent
thoughts. And Tate knew it.
Still touching herself, she reached for him and palmed him
through his pants.
“Fuck. This is a very bad idea.” His body had a mind of its
own, however. He ground his erection against her, clutching the wheel hard,
breathing through his need to touch her. Trying to remember he was in a fucking
vehicle. Thanking God they were off the highway and there was almost no traffic
on the small road they were traveling along—just forest on both sides.
He threw a glance her way and caught her big silver eyes
glued to his groin, her teeth biting her lower lip, and his already rock-hard
cock swelled to monumental proportions. Shit, how the hell was he going to keep
a cool head when she was looking at him as if she wanted to eat him alive?
“I know what you’re doing,” he said roughly. She was trying
to distract him—and she was fucking succeeding.
Her smile was sweet and innocent. “Baby, it’s gonna be
difficult to watch me and the road at the same time,” she whispered as she
breached her panties and began playing with her clit. “And I kind of want your
undivided attention.”
Shit, shit. He couldn’t tell what was going on under the
cloth, but suddenly the muscles in her arm tensed as she delved lower and
slipped her fingers inside. Her eyes fluttered closed, a gasp leaving her lips.
Then she pressed her legs together and her back bowed, her gasp transforming
into a hoarse moan, her grip on his cock tightening harshly. Jesus. How the
fuck was he supposed to resist that?
Not content with tormenting him through his jeans, she began
working his zipper. Rather clumsily, which just made matters worse.
James growled, praying they’d reach a turn soon so he could
get off the road before all his blood defected south and he became a mindless,
babbling idiot and ran them against a fucking tree. He couldn’t do this while
driving, but fuck if he wasn’t seeing it through.
The god of all horny males must have heard and taken pity on
him, for he hit pay dirt fast, taking a steep right turn and getting them off
the road and onto a secluded path that headed into the forest. By the time he
got there, his brain wasn’t functioning anymore, his hard-on was fucking
leaking, and he had the worst case of blue balls in the history of car sex. She
was panting and pressing her hand against her pussy, her fingers deep inside
her.
“Don’t fucking dare come until I can get my hands on you.”
“Hurry,” she whispered, her eyes heavy-lidded.
He parked and reached for her, wrapping his hand around her
neck and bringing her to him for a hard, deep kiss. “Fuck, babe, you drive me
insane.”
She smiled softly against his lips. “Your fault. You didn’t
give me any this morning.”
“I love taking you in the morning—you know that—but I had to
leave early. I had shit to deal with if I expected to be away the rest of the
day.”
“Now you have time.”
“Yeah, princess, now I have time.”
He wanted to spread her on the bench and make her come with
her legs around his shoulders, but she had other plans. Before he had time to
react, she went on her knees on the seat, bent over him, and took him in her
mouth.
“Oh fuck,” he cursed with a groan, the instant heat zapping
his mind.
Whatever she said, he didn’t hear it, just felt the
vibrations on his hard-on. She looked so fucking sexy with her lips around his
cock, her butt pointing to the sky, and one of her hands between her legs. He
had to break eye contact, or he was going to come in two seconds flat,
especially as she brought him to the back of her throat and mimicked
swallowing.
Fisting her hair, James reached for her with the other hand
and trailed his fingers from her thigh up to her ass, taking her skirt with him
and exposing her bare cheeks. A thong—so Tate.
“Seeing you getting yourself off is fucking sexy, but I want
in on the action, princess,” he told her, moving his hand to her inner thighs.
“You suck me. I take care of your pussy.”
She whimpered and shakily withdrew her hand. Fuck, she was
drenched, her folds dripping wet. He yanked her panties aside and slid two
fingers up her tight channel while she rode him eagerly.
“You’re so sweet. Your pussy. Your mouth. So hot and wet.
Love fucking them both. Yes. Like that, baby,” he growled as she deep throated
him, her inner muscles convulsing around his thrusting fingers. Sensing her
urgency, he pressed his thumb against her clit and stroked it. Her body tensed.
“Do you want to come? Do you want me to send you over?”
She let out a ragged moan and sucked the head of his cock
faster, her hands working the shaft, intent on taking him with her. He clenched
his jaw and, pulling her hair, stilled her.
“No way, beautiful. I love how you give me head. My balls
are fucking boiling already, but I want to come inside your pussy, not down
your throat.”
“Too close, James… Can’t wait… Going to come,” she said
between choppy pants, bearing down hard against his hand.
“Don’t hold back. Give it to me, baby. Come on my fingers,” he
ordered, rubbing her clit harder, pressing the piercing against her throbbing
flesh. He reached for that sweet spot behind her pubic bone and watched,
mesmerized, as she threw her head back and orgasmed, soaking his hand with
girlie juices, his name a cry on her lips.
God, he was going to spill his load on himself if he didn’t
get inside her now. Without wasting any time, he lifted her and lowered her on
him, feeling her sharp convulsions on his throbbing cock.
“I want you so fucking bad.” Breathing through his mouth and
praying for calm, James wrapped one arm around her waist and fisted her
now-loose hair, forcing her to kiss him. He must have had her hundreds of times
already. He’d fucked her in every imaginable position, more than once probably,
but this need to claim her didn’t diminish. If anything, it just got worse. He
still got that heady, needy feeling, as if he couldn’t get deep enough, fast
enough.
With Tate immersed in her release, he tightened his grip and
pounded inside her, grinding his pelvis against her pulsing clit after every
thrust, feeling the cold piercing on the base of his cock. Gritting his teeth,
he managed to hold on until he wrenched all the pleasure from her sweet body
and her contractions were reduced to erratic tremors.
“My turn now.”
She slowly opened her eyes. “You didn’t—”
“Not done fucking you. Lean back, princess. Offer me your
tits. I want them in my mouth,” he ordered in a hoarse voice as he trailed his
lips down her throat, nipping her skin here and there, drunk on her scent. She
complied, still a bit sluggish from her climax, and arched against the steering
wheel, choking out a cry when he took as much of her right breast as he could
fit in his mouth and sucked. After a while he moved to the other breast, and
soon there were two wet circles on her chest, her stiff nipples at the center
of them, and Tate was on board again, her breath labored, her pussy flexing
around him.