by K. A. Finn
She smiles at him then looks back at the sea. Tate can’t take his eyes off her. He can’t remember ever wanting to kiss someone as much as he wants to kiss her. He genuinely likes her and that’s what’s causing him problems. The last thing he wants to do is blow it by moving too fast. But not moving at all isn’t working for him either. He wants to taste her. He needs to taste her before he goes crazy. She takes a sip of her drink and licks her lips.
Fuck it.
∞
Chloe swallows and focuses on the view in front of her instead of getting lost in the view beside her. She knows it’s her imagination playing tricks on her, but she could swear she’s caught Tate looking at her more than once over lunch.
She risks a quick glance to her left. He’s propped up on one elbow, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His head is down, his attention on his hands, staring intently as he turns the ring on his thumb. Then he lifts his eyes to look at her.
If he’s surprised to see her looking at him too, he doesn’t let it show. If anything, catching her staring has the opposite effect. He doesn’t turn away and neither does she. Tate’s gaze moves from her eyes to her lips and Chloe swallows again.
This time she knows she’s not misreading or imagining the signals. There’s no misreading the way he’s looking at her. She has no idea what possesses her but she glances from his face to his groin. Yeah, she’s not imagining how aroused he is either.
Before she can stop eying up his package Tate reaches out and takes the glass from her hand.
Tate’s fingers touch her chin and he tilts her head towards him. Chloe swallows again trying to dislodge the lump in her throat but her mouth decided to rid itself of any moisture the second he touched her. The heavy ring he wears on his thumb brushes against her chin as he slowly traces her lips. Oh God she wants him to kiss her. Please.
Then he does just that. Tate’s hand slips around the back of her neck and pulls her to him. His lips are soft and he tastes amazing. The kiss starts off slow but doesn’t stay in that category for long.
She has no idea what comes over her but she finds it impossible to keep her hands off him. She cups his face, running her hands over his tight beard before moving into his thick hair. Everywhere she touches she finds something else she wants to keep touching. Everything about him is new. Everything feels amazing. His hand moves along her waist sending sparks up her spine when he touches her skin.
Tate lifts himself over the unfinished picnic and covers her with his body, one hand resting on the ground to keep him from crushing her.
Chloe groans as his fingers trace up her side under her t-shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He nudges her legs apart with his knee and his solid chest presses against her. Tate moves from her mouth to her neck as she tilts her head to the side to allow him easier access.
Her hand slips under his t-shirt and explores his stomach, tracing further up his smooth chest. He hisses as her fingers brush off something hard in his right nipple. ‘Piercing,’ he mutters quickly as he works his way around the other side of her neck.
For some unknown reason, the fact his nipple is pierced does nothing to calm the situation. If anything, it’s something she didn’t expect to be so turned on by. Chloe runs her fingers over the bar again and Tate responds by pushing his leg against her crotch, driving her crazy.
She should stop whatever is happening between them before it goes any further. But she doesn’t want to. If anything she wants so much more. More of Tate and more of what he’s doing to her. Before the sensible part of her brain can talk herself out of it, Chloe takes hold of his hand, guiding it down her body to where she wants it.
Tate stops kissing her and looks around them. ‘Summer house?’
‘Summer house.’
He pulls her to her feet and uses the key over the door to unlock and re-lock it once they’re inside. Tate looks at her and Chloe can feel every nerve ending in her body tingle in anticipation. She squeals as he picks her up and lies her down on the couch against the side wall of the summer house.
He takes the bottom of her t-shirt in his hands and Chloe lifts her arms above her head. She wants to feel his hands on her skin and clothes aren’t going to help that. When he pulls off his t-shirt, Chloe groans out loud. She knew he had an impressive body but seeing it up close is a different story. Every inch of his upper chest, neck and both arms are covered in intricate Celtic tattoos. She runs her hands over the hard muscles tracing the ink that extends up each arm and across his wide chest. ‘Wow.’
He smiles and pulls her nipple into his mouth through her lace bra. ‘What do you want, Chloe?’
He nips at her other nipple as she tries to string together something that sounds coherent. ‘I want you to touch me.’
She kicks off her shoes while Tate opens her jeans and pulls them down her legs, followed by her panties. He kneels on the floor beside the couch and moves down her abdomen, sucking, kissing, and biting every inch of skin. He stops and looks up at her. Chloe reaches down and tugs at his hair, directing him where she wants him to go. He smirks and she gasps as he buries his tongue inside her. Chloe’s head rolls back and her grip on his hair increases. What the hell is she doing? She doesn’t do stuff like this. She barely knows him, but all she can think about is getting so much more of what he’s doing.
‘You taste fucking amazing.’
She makes the mistake of looking down at Tate and groans. He’s looking at her, his dark blue eyes refusing to let her out of their spell as he licks and sucks on her. Chloe drops her head back against the couch and buries her hands in his hair. He grips her waist in his hands, the ink on his skin curling around her as he pulls her towards him.
‘Oh God, Tate.’
He rests one hand on her stomach, holding her in place as he moves his other hand lower. Her back arches off the couch when he slides a finger deep inside, but he holds her steady, keeping her body where he wants it. His tongue flicks over her clit, teasing her with a mind-blowing combination of sucking and massaging. She gasps as his finger presses deep, finding that perfect spot inside, sending shudders through her body. He keeps up a steady pressure, rubbing back and forth as his tongue slowly drives her insane.
Tate sucks her hard as he plunges his finger deep sending her flying. Chloe tries her hardest not to scream but fails miserably. The tremors work from her toes through her body in waves but Tate doesn’t stop. He keeps working her until she has nothing left. When Chloe eventually opens her eyes, Tate is looking down at her, one arm to each side of her body, putting his chest right in front of her.
‘That was... Wow.’
Tate smiles down at her. ‘That’s two ‘wows’ in the space of a few minutes. I’m on a roll.’
‘Believe me, that deserves so much more than a wow. I’m just struggling to think straight.’
‘Glad to hear it. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.’
Chloe frowns up at him, trying to keep her eyes from travelling down his body. ‘You have?’
He lowers towards her and kisses up the side of her neck. ‘Too fucking right.’ His hand runs over her body again and she sucks in a breath. ‘You’ve been driving me crazy.’
‘Me? How?’
Tate straightens his arms and licks his lips as he looks at her. ‘By chewing the tip of your pencil when you’re thinking about what to draw. By using that coconut shampoo or whatever you use on your hair. By having that maddeningly addictive dimple on your right cheek. By tucking your hair behind your ear when you’re nervous or embarrassed.’ He runs his thumb over her lips and tilts his head to the side. ‘And by being fucking gorgeous of course.’
As hard as she tries not to, Chloe blushes. She’s never had anyone say things like that to her before. Especially not someone like Tate. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, Chloe. Really. Even soaking wet with grass sticking out of your hair I’m attracted to you.’
‘Oh God. I was hoping you didn’t notice that.’
&nb
sp; ‘Didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing it out after only knowing you a few minutes. And like I said, you still looked gorgeous.’
When he hits her with one of his smiles, the heat rises in her body again. Tate brings something out in her she didn’t know existed. She wants to do things to him. Things that required him to be naked, but she’s not sure about taking that step with him just yet.
She wasn’t exactly shy when it came to sex, but she was very much in the vanilla category. It was always nice, but she’d never been with someone who distracted her as much as Tate does. Even looking at him has her mind heading off on an unfamiliar tangent. It’s not helping that his chest is right in front of her, begging to be touched.
She traces her fingers along his chest, loving how his muscles shift under her touch. His body is incredible and even though she had never been a fan of tattoos, they emphasise every curve and dip of his toned chest and arms. Tate straightens his arms, giving her an unobstructed view of him. Her fingers move down his chest to the waist of his jeans, but Tate takes hold of her wrist and moves her hand away.
‘Hang on. I’m sorry, Chloe. I can’t.’
9
Tate regrets the words as soon as he says them. Chloe instantly turns red and tries to cover herself. ‘I didn’t mean it that way. I want to, believe me.’
She slides out from under him and pulls her t-shirt on. ‘It’s fine, Tate. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable.’
‘Can you sit down for one second, please. Jesus Chloe, I want to be with you, I really do. I’ve got to tell you something first though.’
That gets her attention. She fastens her jeans and turns to face him. ‘What’s wrong?’
He pulls on his t-shirt too. Being half naked isn’t going to help the situation. ‘Sit down, please.’
She lowers onto the couch and he sits beside her. He absolutely does not want to have this conversation with her, but after being with her, he knows he has to tell her the truth.
He’s disgusted with himself, but a part of him thought if he just had her once, he’d get her out of his system and he could move on. That plan went to shit as soon as he tasted her. Being with her only made him want her so much more. As desperate as he is to let her continue whatever she was planning when he stopped her, he can’t without her knowing who he is. Fact is there’s a strong chance he’s already put the nail in his coffin by not telling her before he touched her.
‘Are you okay?’
Tate leans forward and clasps his hands together. ‘I need to tell you who I really am before this goes any further. I should have told you when we were in your gran’s house, but I chickened out.’
‘Okay, now you’re worrying me. What do you mean who you really are? Is your name not Tate?’
‘No, it is. It’s more about my full name. Fuck it.’ He takes a deep breath and looks over at her. ‘My name is Tate Archer.’
He pauses as she frowns sightly. His name is familiar to her.
‘The band I’m in...it’s called Broken Chords. We’ve had a few number one songs and albums that hit the same spot. I’m... I fucking hate the term, but I’m a celebrity, famous... whatever way you want to put it. Have been for about five years or so. I thought... I really thought you knew who I was when we met. When I realised you didn’t I—’
‘Oh my god!’ Chloe stares over at him like a switch has been flicked as everything he said registers with her. She pulls out her phone and Tate keeps quiet as she confirms what he’s saying. Chloe checks the images on her screen then looks at him again. Usually when someone recognises him he’s met with a very different expression to the one Chloe has on her face. She’s hurt and confused and it’s all his fault. She holds the phone up to him and points to the photo. ‘That’s you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re a famous rock star, Tate. I mean really famous.’
‘Yeah, I am.’
She looks from her phone to Tate then back again. ‘You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you lie to me?’
‘Hang on. I’ve never lied to you, Chloe.’
‘Not telling me is the same thing, Tate.’ She gets up and unlocks the door then bursts out of the summer house. Tate follows her but gives her some space to get things straight in her head. She walks over to the railing surrounding the headland and laughs to herself.
‘I am such an idiot. I can’t believe I didn’t know.’ She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths then looks down at the phone again.
He leans on the railing beside her making sure not to crowd her. ‘Not recognising me absolutely does not make you an idiot. I know I should have said something sooner but... Do you have any idea how many times I meet someone who doesn’t know who I am? I can count the times on one hand. When I met you... When I realised you didn’t know me, I liked it. I could just be me with you, you know? For the first time in a hell of a long time, I could actually be myself.’
‘Well, I’m glad my stupidity helped you, but do you really think that is going to make me feel any less mortified? Why didn’t you tell me before? Why wait until after you got to do what you apparently wanted to do for ages? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? Do you even care?’
‘Of course I care, Chloe. I meant every single word I’ve said to you. Okay, I omitted some information, but I never lied to you. I know I should have told you before, but I couldn’t figure out how to.’
‘You sit me down and tell me. Like you just did, only before you laid a finger on me. I knew this would happen. I mean how could it not?’
‘Knew what would happen?’
‘I knew you’d hurt me.’
‘What?’
She glances down at her phone again and her frown deepens. He knows she’s reading, and he has a fair idea what it is.
‘Is this true? What they’re saying about you?’
‘Depends on what you’re reading.’
‘That you’re a heroin addict and you overdosed?’
Nausea twists his stomach as she says the words. For some reason hearing it back from her makes it sound so much more unbearable. With that statement he sees whatever might have been between them die. He nods and her eyes leave his.
‘I’m clean now.’ Tate hates how desperate his statement sounds. ‘But, yeah, it’s true.’
‘Tell Grace thank you for the amazing food.’ She turns away from him, grabs her jacket off the picnic blanket then heads down the track.
‘I’ll give you a lift back.’
She spins around and laughs harshly. ‘You’ve done enough. Just leave me alone. Please.’
‘I’m not going to let you walk home from here.’
She turns away and storms up the path towards the road. She can be mad at him all she wants but he is going to make sure she gets back safely. Even if that means dragging her kicking and screaming onto the back of his bike. He quickly packs the remains of the ruined picnic away and puts the basket back in the summer house.
He finds Chloe a little way down the road and pulls in just ahead of her and climbs off. ‘Get on the bike, Chloe.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘We’re miles from your gran’s. I get you’re angry at me and I completely understand. Let me take you home and then I’ll leave you alone. I promise. You’ll never hear from me again if that’s what you want. I just want to bring you home. Please.’
Chloe looks at the bike and her shoulders drop. ‘Fine.’ She takes his spare helmet and fastens it as she climbs on behind him. In stark contrast to the ride up here, he can barely feel her hands on him as he drives her home. He has to keep looking down to make sure she’s still holding on.
He’s barely come to a stop outside her gran’s house before she gets off and hands him the helmet. The bright red door closes behind her and cuts off anything he was planning to say to her.
∞
Chloe drops down in front of her laptop and types in the two words that have confused the hell out of her since she heard them an ho
ur ago and hits enter.
And there he is. Tate Archer. Lead singer, lead guitarist, and songwriter for Broken Chords. How did she not recognise him? Now that she sees him she doesn’t know how she missed it.
Then again, she wasn’t expecting to find a celebrity on a small beach near her grandmother’s house.
As soon as he said his full name it was like a veil had been lifted. Even without checking on her phone she recognised him. It’s not even like Tate is a common name. But is it really that naïve of her not to make the connection?
She clicks on the images tab and slowly scrolls down. Lines and lines of photos of him with the band, by himself, fully dressed, with no shirt on, there are so many of them, and in each one he looks like the guy she was with an hour ago. There’s no fancy camera tricks, it’s just him. She feels like such an idiot for not seeing what was right in front of her.
She moves away from the photos and goes back to the search results. Apart from lists of their songs and albums, there are a lot of pages detailing what happened to him recently. The fact he’s a celebrity is hard enough to assimilate, but it’s his time in rehab that she’s struggling with the most. Telling her he wasn’t well for a while is a bit of an understatement.
According to one news website, he got back from a few months on the road with the band, spent Christmas with his family then disappeared. The second leg of their tour due to start in February was cancelled and that was it until he was reportedly released from rehab in May.
From what she can see he hasn’t made a statement about what happened to him so the speculation is rife. There are reports of the pressure of touring getting to him. Other reports blame excessive partying. You name it, someone has mentioned it as a reason he found himself in rehab.
Chloe stares at the words on the screen. They’re talking about Tate. She can’t get it straight in her head.
Her focus drifts to a photo of Tate with a stunning blonde woman by his side. Just another one of his many ex-girlfriends. This one in particular had taken the break-up badly. She skims through the latest article and can’t help but take an instant dislike to her.
