by Nana Malone
He fused their lips again and Cara moaned. When he cupped her ass again, she pointed in the direction of the bedroom.
Cara clutched at the back of his T-shirt and tugged up the cotton baring his skin to her touch. In the bedroom, he kicked the door shut with his foot, before dragging the T-shirt all the way off his head. Cara bit her bottom lip and stared. She’d already seen what he was working with and she reached out to touch again.
His muscles jumped under her touch and she watched him in fascination as he responded to her caress. With a shuddering breath he groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Letting her touch as much as she wanted. She slid her fingers over his skin, relishing his every held breath, his every gasp. She was driving him crazy. The flood of power went to her head and she grew bolder.
Fluttering her hands down his abs, she traced lower over the dusting of hair leading into his jeans. Her eyes darted up. His eyes were still squeezed shut as he held onto one of her bedposts, his breathing choppy and ragged.
When she popped open the snap to his jeans, his eyes flickered open and he met her gaze. But he didn’t stop her. Instead, he swallowed hard, watching her hands intently. Cara bit back a smile as she inched his zipper down, getting a good look at his black boxer briefs and the sizable surprise beneath the soft cotton, pushing up against the waistband of his boxers.
Gaze focused on his, she reached inside his jeans and boxers, wrapping her hand around his throbbing erection.
Tate’s mouth fell open and his hand snapped around her wrist, but he didn’t stop her. Instead, he let her stroke him from root to tip. His eyes fluttered closed again and a low moan escaped his parted lips.
He applied pressure to her wrist and she stopped, but she was reluctant to let him go. “Cara.” Her name was part groan, part exaltation. When he opened his eyes again, she saw the heat and desperation.
Impatient, he tugged her hand from his jeans and tugged up the hem of the cover up she'd thrown on after class, not stopping until it was up and over her head. His eyes stayed on hers even as she reached behind herself and released the clasp of her bra. Her heavy breasts spilled free. Next she removed her leggings. But she left the thong on.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are? You’re killing me.” He lifted her gently, depositing her on the center of the bed. “I have been dreaming about you for so long I’m not even sure you're real.”
“I'm real, Tate. You can even touch me to make sure.”
Tate licked his lips as his eyes roamed over her. “I want to see all of you.”
“I'm yours.”
He made quick work of her thong, sliding it over her legs before yanking off his boxers and jeans. He crawled over her. Something stopped him though, and he glanced over his shoulder with a frustrated growl. He hadn't fully stepped out of his jeans and now the denim was caught on the bedpost.
A bubble of laughter slipped out of her, triggering a half-amused and half-frustrated groan from Tate. She was still laughing when he bent his head, sucking her breast into his mouth. His tongue flickered over her nipple and she gasped.
A hot spike of need speared her and she arched her back wanting to get him closer. Wanting him to do it again. He rewarded her by kissing her other breast, drawing the tight nipple into his mouth. A helpless moan escaped her lips. The sound mingling with Tate’s satisfied growl that made her nipples tingle. Her clit throbbed and ached. She needed him. Needed him to hurry. Needed him to touch her.
As if able to read her mind, Tate let her breast go with a pop, kissing his way down her body. Pausing only to tease her belly button with his tongue. She panted as he parted her thighs, his broad shoulders pushing her legs wide, giving him prime access to her heated core. Her hips raised involuntarily and Tate’s low chuckle washed over her.
“I’ll get there sweetheart.” He slid a finger over her lips before groaning. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” His voice was low, deep, sensual. His words sent a flutter of butterflies in her belly, as he dipped his head.
Her voice echoed around her room, as his tongue touched her clit, and he sucked the little pink button into his mouth.
She lifted her hips and offered her body to him. He sucked on the little bundle of nerves, circling it until she was quivering and thrashing. Entwining his fingers with hers, he led her hand down to her parted thighs. And over her sensitive flesh. “Show me how you like it, Cara. Show me how to touch you.”
Her thighs fell apart. She was lost in the sea of lust, and pleasure, and barely felt him lower her down when she bucked from the intensity of her desire. She tried to get away from his tongue when it became too much. But Tate held her still through it all. His mouth sucked her softly, then harder still until she was crying out beneath him again.
Cara heard him chuckle as she slid her free hand into his hair and held him to her. The sound vibrated against her clit, making her inner muscles contract.
Oh so gently, Tate grazed the tight button with his teeth and Cara’s eyes snapped open. Her legs locked around him in an effort to hold him there forever.
As he took her to the edge again and again she cried out. The sounds of her moans and groans filled the silence. Tate held her, kissing her thighs gently, shifting up her body.
“My God, you are beautiful when you come.”
With a limp arm, Cara reached for him. Unable to drag her attention away from his thick erection. She wrapped her hand around his cock, using her thumb to smooth the bead of pre-cum over the head of his erection. Curious, she brought her thumb to her lips and licked.
Tate’s low feral growl had her locking gazes with him again. He tugged her underneath him and snatched the condom he’d tossed on the bedside table. Making quick work of the latex and the foil, he settled between her thighs.
When he kissed her, it was soft and she felt cherished, loved even.
His cock teased her slick core and her breath caught. Jesus, he was big. But then, he did the unexpected. With a quick tightening of his thighs and a little leverage, he had them flipped so she sat on top of him. Her heated core, hovering just over his erection. His fingers gripping her flesh.
“So perfect,” he growled.
“Tate,” she breathed.
He pulled her closer and her pussy lips slid over the length of his cock. They both shivered. He gripped the base of his cock guiding it into her. Cara met his gaze and immediately she relaxed, leaning forward to kiss him as he slid deep inside her. Her mouth parting in a silent moan as her inner walls expanded, trying to accommodate his size. Her breath came out in choppy gasps. He shushed her as he stroked her hips. “Shh. Sweetheart, relax. I'm not going to hurt you. Let me make you feel good.”
As they started to move in synchronization, Cara couldn’t look away. Their gazes trapped as they moved together. When he reached between them to stroke her, her lids fluttered closed as the electric pleasure zinged up her spine. She tried to hold on, but she was too far gone. As he filled her deep, she was coming again.
Beneath her, Tate moaned. “Fuck. You’re so tight.” He kissed her again, his tongue fucking her in time with his cock.
With their position, he was buried deep inside her and she could feel every throb of him, every twitch. He stretched her until all she could feel was him.
“Cara,” he uttered through gritted teeth.
“Tate…” she breathed, unable to hide the well of emotion. There was no holding back from him. As they came together, his jaw locked and her mouth opened, she knew that she was going to get hurt, but she was completely powerless to stop it.
8
Tate stroked Cara's breast and his dick twitched again. Damn. Given what they'd done, it should have been ready to fall off. But oh no. One whiff of Cara's perfume and he was ready and willing ... again. He watched in fascination as her nipple hardened under the gentle ministrations of his thumb.
She arched her back before groaning, but just like she had three times throughout the night, she turned into him and wrapped her arm
s around his neck. And that was all it took to make him rock hard again. Ready to go. Willing to go. Desperate to go.
He reached for the condoms he'd tossed on the bedside table and tore another one off. Shit, they were down to one left, and he wanted her in the shower too. Note to self: Next time bring extra condoms. Fuck that, buy stock in the company.
He took her taut nipple into his mouth and pulled gently. Cara's thighs splayed and she ran a lazy hand over his back. Smiling to himself, he kissed his way down her belly. She was still sleeping and he liked his woman awake and participating. Fortunately for the both of them, he knew just how to wake her.
When he kissed her belly button, she giggled and he eased his tongue into the hollow of her flesh.
God, she was so damn sexy. Her caramel skin. He could do this every damn day. Enjoy it now, because you won’t do anything like this once Donovan finds out.
The guilt ate at him, but he shoved the thought out of his head. This had nothing to do with his brother. He kissed her lower and her breath hitched. "That's it pretty girl. Let me see you," he whispered.
He wrapped his lips around her clit and she sat bolt upright in bed, but he didn’t stop her or try to control her.
He sucked on her clit and watched her dissolve into quakes. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she tugged, the motion like a lighting bolt to his cock.
"Tate, oh God."
Licking at her slit, he savored her cream. Savored how she felt when she was completely open like a flower, not thinking about anything. Not trying to control her response to him. She came with his mouth on her. His tongue, fucking her in gentle strokes. "Come on, Cara. Just one more. For me. Show me how much you like this. How much you need it." He whispered against her flesh.
And she did. Her next orgasm was almost violent enough to unseat him. He crawled back up her body and tore open the condom. His hands were shaking. He couldn't breathe, he needed her so bad.
She was so open and wet and soft. As he slid inside her, he watched her face. Her eyes stayed pinned on his, but her lips parted in an O. Tate slid a hand into her hair and held her in place as he kissed her. Locking onto her mouth as his cock slid home, claiming her. Putting a permanent brand all over her body.
He wasn't sure if it was an aftershock or a new orgasm, but she quivered around him again and he was lost. She was his. She just didn’t know it yet.
Cara twisted in Tate’s arms. "You know how to give a girl a hell of a wake up call."
"Who me? I was innocent." There was humor in his voice.
She giggled. "Oh really? So who was that with his tongue on me?"
He flashed her favorite lopsided smile. "Well, that was me. But it was only because your nipple kept asking me to suck it. I was busy trying to sleep." He kissed her nose.
If anyone had asked her a week ago if she'd ever think she would be in bed with Tate Anders, she would have thought they were insane. She kept waiting for the regret to come. But she was happy she'd said yes.
He made her smile but it wouldn’t last. He was an Anders. Donovan's brother. His twin brother to be exact. But for now it made her happy. "I'm so sorry my nipple was bothering you. Next time I'll cover up."
He growled. "Don’t you dare. Under penalty of punishment." He played with her hair for a minute. "Are you working today?"
"You’re in luck. I got a raise at Club Prestige so I was able to quit the dance center in Rockville and I’m completely free today."
"In that case, maybe you'd like to join me for lunch in my office. I have a meeting this afternoon otherwise I'd take you somewhere."
And there it was, the brush of reality they'd been trying to avoid. "Tate, that’s probably not such a good idea."
"Why not, because of Donovan?"
She tried to sit up and pull the covers over her. There was nothing she hated more than fighting naked. But he didn't let her up. "Let me go Tate."
He stroked a finger over her shoulder. "Cara, just talk to me. I know you're waiting for me to give up but I'm not going to do that."
She sighed. "I mean, even you have to admit Donovan is a problem. If he found out we were messing around, he'd flip out."
He sat up and took her chin in his hand. "Good thing we're not messing around then."
What was he saying? "Tate."
"No, Cara, hear me out. I know you have no reason to trust me after Donovan, but I’m not him. You know that. It was like serendipity running into you in the street the other day."
"Tate, look, the words are nice, but I don’t want this drama. I think this should be casual. Keep it loose. The last time I got too close, I lost my chance at a dream. I know Donovan sabotaged my chance at that job. Who's to say what he’d do now."
He frowned. "You knew about that?"
She'd known right away as soon as she'd walked into the audition room and saw the woman on the end. She’d recognized her from the society pages in pictures with Mr. Anders. All it would take was one word and she was toast. She'd given a good audition that day but she hadn't made callbacks. "I didn’t have any confirmation until now."
"I'm really sorry about that."
She pursed her lips. "You didn't do it."
"No, but when I found out, I didn’t do enough to try and reverse it."
"Not your job to fix your brother's shit."
"Well, kind of my job when my brother fucked with the girl I was half in love with."
She stilled. "What?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "Don’t freak out on me, okay? It's just that I wanted you then. So damn bad.”
Her pulse boomed loud in her head. What was he saying? What did he mean? "Tate I—I hated having feelings for you. It was so fucked up. Still is. I thought Donovan was going to—” she cut herself off before she could say anything else.
“Was going to what?” He prompted.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Forget it."
He frowned. “What aren't you telling me?”
"That was the past. You and Donovan. We only dated a couple of months."
He took her hand. "How about we see where this goes? We'll go as slow as you want. Donovan will deal."
"Okay. But lunch is still not the best idea." She should have said no. But she wanted to say yes. He is not Donovan.
"My brother in the office is a rare occurrence. It's not like my dad knows who you are. I just need to spend time with you." He tugged her closer then kissed her softly.
"You know you make it hard to say no," she muttered.
His grin was quick. "I know. I'm an excellent negotiator."
"I'm getting that. Okay. Lunch"
He grinned like a kid on Christmas. "Awesome. We'll take it one day at a time."
She wanted to believe him but she'd been burned. He might think he could handle his brother, but she knew better. "One step at a time."
"Now you get it. Not hard at all, right?"
Cara raised a brow. "This said from the guy who plans everything?"
He played with a lock of her hair. "Well, the best thing that's happened to me in months was running into you by accident so I'm trying some new things. Hell, I learned to work the pole from a bona fide stripper."
She sighed. Time to come clean. "I'm not a stripper."
He shook his head. "Sorry. Entertainer. And it's fine. Honestly, I'd prefer other men didn't see you naked but I'll deal."
Cara laughed. "I should tell you something."
He slid his gaze away from hers. "I feel like I waded into some shit here. What do you want me to say?"
“When you said you were happier with my job at the studio on Georgetown than you were with my job at Club Prestige, why?”
He frowned. "Well. I'm into you. I'm never going to be crazy about a bunch of men watching you dance. But I get it. It's your chance to dance. You’re at least chasing the dream. I'm the one stagnant. I respect it."
"You think I take my clothes off for men and you still want to be with me?"
"Do I need to speak
slower? I’m. Into. You. I don’t care about Club Prestige. I know they are fanatical about dancer safety. I can swallow the rest. Besides, you'll be center stage one day soon."
Oh God, she might possibly love this man. And then it hit her. She'd let Tate infer she was a stripper. But Donovan had probably come to that conclusion on his own. Oh God. The lewd suggestions, the leering, the inviting her to take off her clothes at the gala … He'd seen her at the club and assumed she'd been dancing in one of the rooms. Fuck. He wasn't going to leave her alone. No matter what Tate thought.
"Tate, as much as I respect the dancers at Club Prestige, I’m not one of them. I teach strip tease there. Just like at Shock and Awe."
His brows snapped down. "I don’t understand."
“A month or so ago, one of the owners came to the Georgetown location. She loved the class and asked if I'd be willing to teach bachelorette parties and such. I— I'm not a dancer. We perform, sure. But it's more burlesque and it's for select invited guests. Usually husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, that kind of thing. You're the first man to get a lap dance like that from me. I'll dance a little for the performances, but not like that."
He blinked and blinked again. "Fuck me. You let me think you were a stripper?"
“Well you came to that conclusion all on your own. And you were being sort of a jerk.” She smirked. "Besides, I think I've already done that. Current count of four times, but we've only got one more condom so ... "
But he wasn't in the teasing mood. "You're not a stripper?"
"No. I’m a dancer. I do love my job at Club Prestige though. I like to think I'm empowering women."
"Shit, I didn't care before when I thought you were. But fuck, I'm sort of relieved that you're not. That way I don't have to picture that shit in my head. I'm sorry. I just saw you that day. One of the dancers talked to you and you said you danced there and ... " He laid his head back against the headboard and her bed creaked again.
They both laughed. "Now you have to join me for lunch. So maybe I can get my own private lap dance. Because it’s all I'll be thinking about all day."
