| |
TATE
Maybe I pushed too far. I don’t know what came over me, but I wanted to see how far she’d take this flirting thing. I needed to know if she was feeling things I was feeling.
The tension.
The attraction.
Desire.
I wanted her. Did she want me too? The way her eyes focused on me whenever I was around said yes. The way she licked her lips and eye-fucked me every time I had my shirt off said yes.
Her kisses screamed yes.
I waited for a response from her, but none came. At least not in the form of a text message or photo like I’d hoped. The second she asked me to prove what I was wearing, I ran inside, stripped out of my clothes and wrapped a towel around my waist, careful to hide my growing erection, because just fucking talking to her turned me on.
I was so screwed.
There was a soft knock at my door.
I jumped off the bed and glanced down at my towel. There was no hiding that fucker now. Not unless I wanted to hold a cushion over my crotch.
I opened the door, and Wren was standing there in nothing but her pizza t-shirt that said ‘eat me’.
She raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. “Happy?”
I smirked and snaked my arm around her waist, pulling her into me and into the room before kicking the door closed behind us. “I am now.”
Wren laughed as I backed her into the door. “Tate,” she whispered, her fingers moving into my hair.
“I didn’t expect you to knock on my door.” I pressed my face into her neck.
“Do...Do you want me to leave?” Her voice trembled.
“Fuck no.”
“This is... Is this...” She stopped talking as I pressed my teeth in her neck softly. “A bad idea?”
“No,” I growled into her neck as she arched into me. “But the ball’s in your court.”
We were enveloped in darkness with a single flick of the switch.
The usually confident, bold, carefree Wren that I had come to love was gone. In her place was this new insecure, timid, and anxious Wren that I didn’t recognize.
What happened to the woman that hung from the rafters in her underwear and poledanced for fun? Or the woman that didn’t give a damn what the skinny-ass models thought of her sexy-as-fuck fuller figure in a swimsuit. The woman whose best comeback was ‘I hope you step on a Lego’. Where was the woman who wanted her cake and ate it too while sticking her middle finger up at anyone that dared say anything? The one who saved the pizza shop in her phone as lover, and me as bastard? The woman with no filter on her yet refused to curse.
Where was the woman I fell in love with?
A breath trembled. The sound almost deafening in the dark. And I couldn’t tell whether it was mine or hers. My nerves quaked as the realization sunk in.
I was in love with Wren Keller.
The wild, crazy woman with a doll’s head cookie jar for a bank account.
She was fucking sexy, in the least sexiest way possible. She snorted when she laughed. She always seemed to have spaghetti sauce on her clothes. Well, more likely pizza sauce. She was an enigma that I was desperate to understand.
She was incredible. Beautiful. Funny. Smart. And more talented than any of the stuck-up rich fuckers around here gave her credit for. Her methods were madness, but the results she yielded were phenomenal, and I was...
In.
Love.
With.
Her.
I’d never loved anyone before except my parents. Rachel was a charade from the get-go. I’d never had a serious girlfriend or someone that I could trust. Rely on. Depend on. Someone I couldn’t wait to see and spend all my time with.
Wren was that person.
Most days I found myself staring out the window looking at the pool house hoping to catch a glimpse of her beautiful smile. Her gorgeous face. Her sexy ass in her leggings or lace underwear.
I dragged my hands down her sides, the heat from her body warming me through, and suddenly my nerves were shot.
She was everything.
Everything.
And I wanted to be worthy of her.
My hands brushed her hips, tickled the skin across the bottom of her stomach as I peeled her t-shirt over her head. I didn’t even know if this was what she wanted, but when she failed to stop me, I continued letting my hands trail across her shoulders and down her back, pulling her closer to me.
Our bodies brushed when I leaned forward to switch the light on. Her arms crossed over her chest. And she was staring at the ground.
“Tate,” Wren gasped before flicking the light off again. Insecurity was getting the better of her. I knew her better than that, or at least I hoped I did. She wasn’t insecure. She was confident and proud.
And that was who I wanted right then.
That was who I fell in love with.
“Fuck, no.” I flicked the lights again. “They stay on.”
Her eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape, before settling on my face.
I dipped my head and pressed a kiss to her collarbone. Her body shifted, and I knew she was reaching for the lights again, so I grabbed her waist and spun her around, walking her to the center of the room. “Lights stay on.”
“But...”
“But nothing. You’ve done nothing but tease and taunt me with that smart mouth since the day I moved in.” I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip. “And your body, your smile, these curves.” I ran my hands down her waist and around her hips. “This ass.” I squeezed her cheeks and pulled her against me. She gasped and used her hands on my shoulders to brace herself. “You’ve strutted around in swimsuits, hung your goddamn lacy thongs from the ceiling, pole danced in nothing but those thongs, my t-shirt and a pair of stilettos. You’ve eaten pizza for breakfast while doing yoga. Downward dog is my favorite pose by the way.” Her eyes widened at my admission.
“How long have you been watching me?” she asked.
“I’ve enjoyed watching you work out in the mornings since that first time I walked in on you with your ass in the air. The pole dancing was a one-time thing. I came into the basement looking for something, but you were there. Fucking stunning in my shirt. So, you do not get to be self-conscious and shy on me now.”
“But...” She was shutting down. Pulling into herself, and I didn’t want that.
“Wren. I’ve watched you for months. This isn’t you.”
“That’s because I didn’t know you were watching. And you weren’t waiting for me to get naked.”
I grinned. “Well, I always hoped you’d suffer a nip-slip or something.”
“Tate,” she scolded and slapped me across the chest.
“It’s true. I’ve been dying to see what you’ve been hiding under all this lace.” I cupped her breasts and dragged my thumbs across her nipples. They tightened beneath the flimsy fabric as her head dropped to my shoulder, and she took a shaky breath.
Grasping her chin between my finger and thumb, I tilted her face up to mine, and the conflict in her eyes was jarring. She was fucking nervous. And she had no reason to be. She was beautiful. Every part of her.
I brought her hand to my chest. “My heart is beating a million beats a minute. I’m so fucking nervous.”
“You are?” She gasped, arching into me slightly as I reached around and unfastened her bra, letting it drop to the floor. “Why?”
“Because you have my stomach in knots.”
Her soft hand splayed across my chest and her fingers tapped lightly against my skin in time with the rhythm of my heart.
“You don’t get nervous.”
“Photoshoots, paparazzi, catwalks are nothing compared to the butterflies you give me every time you smile.”
Her eyebrows pulled together in disbelief.
“Don’t think. Okay?” I slid my mouth across hers. “Close your eyes and just feel.”
“Feel?” she whispered.
“Feel,” I repeated and pressed a kiss to her collarbone. “My lips.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, so I kissed down her chest, over the swell of her breasts.
“My hands,” I breathed and brought them to her chest, squeezing, massaging as my lips dragged down over her ribs. Her fingers threaded through my hair. “My tongue.” I licked the soft skin of her stomach. She gasped and tugged on my hair sending pleasure shots of pain through my body.
I reacted to her like no other. I wanted to throw her on the bed and bury myself deep inside her, but she deserved more. She deserved to be cherished, one breath, one touch, one kiss at a time.
And that was exactly what I intended to do.