Red Hot Obsessions (57 page)

Christ, she hadn’t even thought that far ahead, which was completely and utterly stupid on her part when here she was, planning to have sex with a man who had probably been around the block more times than an ice cream truck. It just so happened that she was on the pill, but it wasn’t because she had been planning to have sex. It was to keep her cycles regular and her moods level. Now, she was glad she had it to serve the purpose it was meant to. One day, she imagined having children, but not today, and definitely not with Tate. Thankfully, she wouldn’t need to worry about any of that.

“Yes.” She gasped when he tugged at her hair again, his head dipping down to nuzzle the side of her neck. He ran the tip of his tongue over the spot just below her ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over her skin.

“Good, because I hate rubbers and I don’t want anything coming between us.” The rumble of his voice sent a wave of moisture flooding between her legs and Piper moaned, his name slipping from her lips. “Mmm, I like the way you say my name,” Tate growled as he bent over her and reached between her legs. His hand cupped her mound and she could feel his hard length slipping through her slippery folds. He pressed it against her, forcing the blunt head to glide over her swollen clit over and over again; until she was wound so tight she thought she would come again.

He didn’t afford her that chance.

Standing upright, Tate took hold of her hips again. She steeled herself, waiting for him to fill her. Moments passed, and when he still hadn’t moved, she frowned. “Tate…?” She looked over her shoulder, needing to see him…That was all he seemed to be waiting for. With one, solid thrust, Tate shoved his way inside, burying him to the hilt.

“Oh fuck!” Normally, Piper wasn’t much for using such coarse language, but it was unavoidable. Tate was thick, long and he was filling her in a way she had never been with any other man. Her whole body felt tight, full, and yet it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

Piper focused on each sensation as Tate pumped his cock in and out of her body. Her muscles tingled with electricity, her legs felt weak, and her head swam in dizzied pleasure. Even the bite of his fingers digging into her hips as he slammed into her felt amazing.

“Jesus Christ, Piper.” Tate was panting, his control slipping. “I want to…I want…” He broke off, leaving Piper to wonder what he wanted so badly. Then she knew.

One of Tate’s hands left her hip. Piper’s eyes rose up to their reflection in the mirror, curiously watching him to see what he would do. His eyes were downcast, wholly focused on where they were joined, and that vision alone was enough to stir her body closer to climax.

She felt rather than saw his fingers dabble at the opening of her pussy where his cock still pumped inside of her. Then, slick with her juices, he smoothed his fingers higher, tracing her anus. Tensing, Piper’s mind screeched to a halt. What was he planning to do? She had never had anything
there
before. She’d heard that some people liked that kind of thing, but to her it was taboo. Wrong. Sinful…
exciting
.

Once again, she was shocked with herself. She was actually intrigued by the idea of having Tate take her in every way imaginable. She wanted him to mark her as his, to brand every inch of her body, inside and out.

She found herself pushing back against him.

Tate’s eyes snapped up, clashing with hers. They were looking at each other from across the room, their eyes engaged in silent communication even as their bodies slapped against each other in the most intimate of ways.

He didn’t ask her what she wanted, he just knew. Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, Tate pushed a finger past the tight ring of muscles. Piper tensed at the foreign sensation, but it felt incredible and the deeper he pushed, the more she fought to hold her head up. Never had she felt so alive. It was like every nerve ending in her body had been shocked awake and was filled to bursting with electricity.

Tate’s mouth gaped open slightly as he measured her reactions in the mirror with rapt attention. She watched him too, gaining pleasure from his. Slowly, his finger withdrew and when it came back, he added a second, stretching her pussy and her anus at once.

“Tate,” Piper panted, writhing beneath him as he twisted his fingers inside her and slid them out, then in, and out again in time with his hips.

“Fuck, Piper.” Tate closed his eyes briefly, and then caught her up in their storm again. “I want to fuck every inch of you. I can’t decide which part of you I want to come in first, your sweet little pussy or this tight ass.”

Piper was aflame with sensation, and right now, she couldn’t seem to make herself care. Her brain was still caught up on “first.”

“Touch yourself,” he growled.

“What?” Piper’s fingers clutched the comforter as she tried to keep herself on her feet and still make sense of what he was asking her.

“Touch yourself,” he repeated. “I want to see how you make that pussy come.”

She should have been appalled, turned off, embarrassed, but all Piper could feel at that moment was a deep need to please him, to please herself. She was too caught up in their passion, in the overwhelming, mind-numbing sensations wreaking havoc on her body to worry about much of anything else.

Releasing one hand, she slipped it between her thighs, her fingers skimming over his penis on a down stroke that nearly gave her one in the process, before locating the tight bundle of nerves.

Her fingers danced smoothly over her clitoris in a pattern she had set long ago as Tate’s fingers and cock pushed deeper into her. Unable to keep her eyes open anymore, Piper let her chin drop to her chest and concentrated on the feeling of Tate moving inside of her, touching her everywhere.

It wasn’t long before she felt the tide begin to rise. Her muscles tensed and her movements grew more frenzied as she worked herself closer to the edge. Behind her, Tate’s thick thighs locked and his thrusts grew harder, deeper as he found his own rhythm.

As her world came apart, he grabbed her hips with both hands slammed into her, his balls slapping her flesh and her breath gusting from her lungs. She felt his cock swell inside her and she clenched her muscles to grip him tighter, sending them both tumbling over the edge.

“Oh! God!”

“Fuck, yes!”

Their shouts filled the small room and Piper spiraled out of control. Never in her life had she felt anything like it. If asked, she wouldn’t have words adequate to describe the mass of sensations gripping her. Every muscle seized and convulsed, suspended in a state of rapture so great, she thought she might combust.

Together, they collapsed on the bed, with Piper on her stomach, fighting for air, and Tate crushing down on top of her. They were still joined, his cock twitching inside of her, when Piper smiled. This was quite possibly the best day she had ever had.

23

The last of the heavy boxes dropped to the floor with a dull thud. Tate straightened, arching his back to stretch out the kinks. He could claim that the twinge of pain had come from hauling loads of books all afternoon, and it wouldn’t be a total lie, but it wouldn’t be the truth either. Recalling the images of having Piper bent over the side of her bed, moaning his name and crying in pleasure threatened to make him hard all over again.

Recalling a conversation he’d had with his mother before leaving Chicago, Tate concluded that he didn’t care what she said. Piper was no good for him. She was dangerous to his self-control. She clouded his judgment. With her, all he could hear was the devil on his shoulder whispering in his ear.

He knew his mother had entertained visions of him settling down with a wife and kids for years now, ever since his time with Casey. She really didn’t make a secret of it. The woman hoarded grandchildren like a spinster hoarded cats. Well, he wouldn’t be buying into that mess, ever. Frankly, after what he went through with his ex, it would be a cold day in hell before he ever settled down again. It just wasn’t worth the hassle. In the end, someone always got hurt.

That’s why he had ducked out of Piper’s room shortly after she fell asleep.

They’d been amazing together. It shocked him how much he still wanted her after already having her. That hadn’t happened since…well, since he could remember. After he and Casey broke it off, he had bounced from one woman to another, never getting deeper than a one-night stand. No numbers were exchanged. No addresses confirmed. No last names. Once he sated his sexual needs, he was out the door. If the women didn’t like it, he certainly hadn’t heard any complaints.

Sure, there were times that he ran into one of them. It was a small world, after all. He frequented the same clubs and restaurants often enough that the chances of it happening were significantly heightened. In the rare instance that he felt like he was doing something wrong, that he was using the women he slept with then ditched at the end of the night, he took heart in those times when he found them latched onto the arm of another man, very obviously in a relationship, and even at times very much married. It went a long way in reassuring him that he was right to remain unattached.

So when he found himself staring down at the prone form of the woman who was slowly but surely wiggling her way into every aspect of his world, consuming his every waking thought and igniting feelings he never thought to have again, Tate extracted himself from the bed and left as quickly and as quietly as he could manage.

He knew that made him look like a creep, a loser, a total and utter jackass, not to mention a hypocrite, because wasn’t that exactly the same thing she had done to him and he had scolded her over? Yeah, he was a prick. He wouldn’t deny it.

The fact of the matter was that last night was the first time he had made love to a woman in nearly two years, and it was amazing. The problem was that he didn’t know how to handle all of this emotion that was running amuck inside of him. A part of him wanted to crawl back into bed and hold her in his arms for the rest of the night, because the woman felt too damn good and inspired bouts of insanity like that. Another part demanded that he put distance between them immediately before he got sucked in too deep. And a part of him knew that, without a doubt, it was already too late.

What he was feeling for Piper wasn’t something he could stop. It wasn’t something he could take back or cut out or burn to ashes. It was a poison that had entered his blood stream and ripped its way through his body and he knew the exact moment that it happened: that first kiss.

One thing he had always been clear on, a personal rule intended to maintain the necessary distance he needed to stay unaffected and unattached to the many women he took to bed each night, was to never, ever kiss them. It was the tie that binds. A person could have sex with any number of random people and have it remain a completely superficial function of life, but the moment they chose to seal their lips with another, the soul deep, heart afflicting connection would be made and there would be no turning back.

He’d broken his cardinal rule that night.

He’d fucked up.

It didn’t matter that they had laughed and teased one another, because as fun as that might have been, they just didn’t get along. Their personalities clashed completely. He was rough around the edges, demanding and he liked his personal space. Piper was laid back, professional, and conservative. It didn’t take much to hurt her feelings, and that happened more than he liked to admit. It wasn’t as if he awoke each morning intending on snapping at her, but that was just how they operated around one another. It was just another reminder that he needed to take it back a notch and sever whatever this thing was that was happening between them. It couldn’t go on. Sexual chemistry be damned, it didn’t take the place of love and it was not something he was in the market for.

“How’s it coming along?” Tate looked up to find Mr. Bradshaw’s imposing figure standing there, his cool, calculating gaze fixated on him. Tate rose and offered his hand.

“Can’t complain. Just taking care of a few last-minute details before I head up to bed. How are you, Jonathon?” he asked amicably.

The head honcho of Bookish Temptations and the reason for them all to be here, held Tate in his assessing gaze. He’d made great strides throughout his employment to keep a distance between him and this man, because immediately after one life-changing moment in time, he’d been placed under a microscope. To say that the man didn’t like him was a massive understatement, though Tate could hardly blame him. He had, after all, been engaged to his sister.

The bad blood between them ran deep, so Tate did his best to stay out of his way. He chose to work from home for this very reason, only going to the office when absolutely necessary. However, like his women, they were bound to cross paths from time to time.

Jonathon laughed derisively. “Sir? Come on, Tate, do you really think formality is going to butter me up this late in the game?”

Tate stood tall, refusing to back down from what was bound to become a very public blowout. Everything in their shared history deemed it inevitable. “I wasn’t aware we were playing a game. Besides, if that were the case, it certainly hasn’t worked so far. I was just trying to be polite to my boss. There’s no reason this has to turn into a cock-fight, Jon.”

“No doubt, it’s a fight that I would win,” he stated confidently. “I hope you’re on top of everything? The book is coming along?”

“If you’re asking whether I am on schedule or not, then yes, I am. In fact, I am well ahead of the deadline.”

Jon’s mouth pressed into a tight line, his displeasure evident. “Good. Wouldn’t want to have to suspend your contract or anything.”

“No, we couldn’t have that,” Tate agreed, gritting his teeth as his pulse jumped. Although Tate tried to keep his personal and professional lives separate, Jon simply wouldn’t allow it. He harbored a deep resentment on Casey’s behalf. It stung to know that the man he had grown up with, the man he had once considered a brother, hated him so deeply. Did he really think that he wouldn’t have worked it out with his sister had he thought there was a chance for them?

“So, where’s this little assistant I hired?” Jon made a show of searching the room.

Tate didn’t bother to tell him that he didn’t have a chance in hell of pointing her out in an empty room, considering that he had never bothered to meet her. It was Felix that had interviewed and hired her on. It was Felix who handled all the details, not Jon, who couldn’t be bothered with much outside of corporate dinners and golf outings. He was a numbers man, through and through.

“Tell me you haven’t run this one off too?”

Tate glowered; surprised the man was plugged in enough to know that small detail. But then he probably made it his mission in life to know every move Tate made, right down to the moment he rolled out of bed in the morning and scratched his ass. “No, she’s upstairs resting. It was a long flight.”

“Hmm, I’m sure it was.” Jon smirked knowingly.

Probably one of the main reasons he detested Tate so much was because, not only did he call off the wedding, but he nursed his broken heart by jumping into the nearest bed, which just happened to be Jon’s ex-girlfriend. To his credit, they had been broken up. How was he to know that Jon would get so riled up? Besides, it wasn’t like he was out to marry the woman. She was just the first in a long line of many who would come to occupy his bed.

“Casey’s in town.” Jon casually tossed the news out there like he was talking about the weather. Tate nearly choked on his tongue. “She’s been dying to get out and see some sights and when I told her that we were holding the signing, she decided to come down and check it out.”

Tate’s teeth were clenched so hard, he was surprised they hadn’t shattered and turned to dust. Casey and Jon never missed a chance to torture him. Casey was under the impression that she could win him back, and Jon was determined to find any excuse he could to ruin his life. When he had signed on to what was then a fledgling company, Tate never could have imagined that such an innocuous business venture would come back to haunt him. Now he was trapped in a dizzying spiral of familial discord that was growing into a black hole more and more every day.

“I’m sure you’re glad to have the company,” Tate said, managing a friendly tone.

Jon nodded. “It’s always nice to spend time with family. Of course, once she heard that you would be here, I couldn’t keep her away.”

“We’re not getting back together,” Tate warned him not for the first time.

“Never said you were. She wants to talk to you, though. People change.” He added the last as if it would make any difference in his decision.

Tate could give a damn if she had become a fucking nun. He wasn’t interested in anything she had to offer. “And we both know we’re past the point of talking.” Tate moved from behind the table, intent on retiring to his room before things got out of hand. Well, any more than they already had.

“She still loves you.” Jon stopped him with a firm hand on his arm and a hard look in his eye.

Tate looked down accusingly at the offending appendage. “Get your fucking hand off of me,” he growled. “I don’t love Casey. What we had is in the past. Now, I am sorry you can’t get over it, and I’m sorry it had to affect our friendship the way it has, but it is what it is. As for your sister changing...” Tate laughed bitterly. “If she’s changed so much, why am I still the one that everyone blames? Has she ever taken responsibility for her actions?”

Jon dropped his hand, but he stepped into him, glaring into Tate’s steely blue eyes. “She knows what she did was wrong. She apologized. It’s you that can’t let go. It’s you that has his head so far up his own ass that he can’t see what he has right in front of him. Instead, you would rather go out every night, get wasted and stick your dick in anything that moves.”

Everything Jon said was true, except for one thing: He did see what was right in front of him. He just wasn’t sure he wanted it.

“I don’t know why I ever took your side—”

“You never took my side!” Tate bellowed, frustration finally getting the better of him. The few people in the room turned their attention to the show they were creating.

“I took your side alright,” Jon shouted, pressing closer. “I took your side right up until you fucked my girlfriend!”

“Ex-girlfriend!”

“That’s not the point!” Jon spun away, spearing his fingers through his hair. “Why can’t you just see? You had a whole family that would’ve loved to call you their own. For Christ’s sake, Tate, you were practically a brother to me. It doesn’t have to be like this. Are you really going to let what happened ruin everything? You’ve loved each other since we were kids,” he implored.

Tate shook his head, tired of rehashing the same argument. “Find me a time machine, man, and I would gladly go back in time and stop this from happening, but it has and I can’t. I might have forgiven Casey, but I can’t forget what she did. I’ve moved on. It’s time you did, too.” He started toward the door. “One day, if you find it in you to be my friend again, remember my door is always open.” Tate let his feet carry him out the door and didn’t look back.