Dane greets me at the table with a warm hug and surprisingly it’s not uncomfortable or creepy, and I even find myself returning the gesture as I wrap my arms around him.
I take the opportunity to glance around the café for Tate but still don’t see any sign of him. Disappointment settles in my stomach and I berate myself as Dane ends our embrace and pulls out my chair.
“Thank you.” I slide into my seat.
“I’m so glad you agreed to come. You’re seriously the first normal girl I’ve met online.”
“Well, half normal, anyway.” Dane chuckles at my lame attempt of a joke and I smile warmly at him.
The date is nice, and Dane says and does all the right things. He is genuinely a nice guy and I’m impressed to find out he is a local police officer.
Unfortunately, thoughts of Tate don’t leave my mind long enough for me to enjoy any of it. I’m constantly glancing around the restaurant, hoping he’ll pop out from somewhere. I’m relentlessly thinking about last night and what it meant. Is he not here because he’s avoiding me? Is he angry for the way I left? Does it have anything to do with the call from Stacey?
“Is everything all right? You seem a little distracted.” Dane interrupts my musings.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m being rude. I am a little distracted, but it’s nothing important,” I say as I glance towards the kitchen one more time.
As if my mind has conjured him up, Tate comes walking out of the kitchen and stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. His eyes light up and a smile forms on his face until his eyes drift to Dane, and his smile drops as he narrows his eyes in confusion.
They widen as understanding hits, and he shakes his head at me before turning back to the kitchen, the sharp slamming of a door causing me to jump in my seat.
“Is everything okay?” Dane asks.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” I say, not looking away from the kitchen door I last saw Tate walk through.
“Do you need to go deal with that?”
I consider it, wanting nothing more than to be near Tate. No, I can deal with him later. I’m here on a date with Dane. A date that is totally fine, because Tate admitted himself this morning that what we did was a casual encounter.
So then why does guilt sit heavy on my chest, making it hard to breathe?
“No, no, please. I’m being really rude. What were we talking about?”
Dane continues right where he left off from. I hear him, I know he’s talking—I just have no idea what about. I can’t pull my focus off those kitchen doors. Hoping they’ll swing open and Tate will give me his trademark wide smile and excited wave.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I interrupt Dane. “I need to go do something. I’ll be back in two seconds flat.”
“Of course,” he says, but I’m already out of my chair and on my way to the back office. God, my mother would be disgusted if she could see my manners in action tonight. Just another thing to add to her long list of disappointments.
Storming through the kitchen doors as if I own the place, I slow my tracks when I take note of Maurice standing by the cooker.
“Oh, I’m sorry Maurice. I’m . . . I’m just . . .”
“He’s back there,” he gestures to the closed office door.
I nod in thanks and move towards the door, my heart beating frantically in my chest. I don’t allow time for me to chicken out as I throw open Tate’s office door and step inside, slamming it behind me.
Tate sits behind a large mahogany desk and his eyes widen as he sees me, but I notice he is holding the phone to his ear. He back is ramrod straight, his face tight, and I’m seeing the side of Tate Washington which doesn’t come out often. The angry, agitated, and heated Tate.
“I have to go, Stacey,” he snaps.
Stacey again. So what, I pissed him off and he comes in here to call her straight away? And he’s pissed with me? Oh, I don’t think so. I straighten my shoulders and prepare myself for a fight.
“I can’t talk now. Goodbye.” I don’t see him end the call before he throws the phone onto his desk. “What do you want, Harper?” He sighs. His voice is tired, resigned and over it. Over me. I also don’t miss the use of my name rather than the nickname I’ve come to love.
“What’s going on, Tate?”
“You’re asking me?” He stands abruptly, his anger back in full force. He rests his hands on the desk in front of him as he leans forward. “Why don’t you tell me, Harper? Tell me why after last night you’re here on a date with another guy. Another fucking douche.”
“Dane is not a douche.” I know it was the wrong thing to say as soon the words leave my lips.
“So what? You want to date him? He the one, is he?” he spits.
“Is Stacey?” I bite back.
“What?” He stands up straight and scrunches his face in confusion.
“Is Stacey the one? The one who is going to be the end of Playboy Tate? The one to put an end to all the casual one-night stands like me?”
Tate’s eyes go hard and his face is fierce. He storms around the desk and strides towards me until I’m pushed back against the wall.
“I’m not doing this with you, Harper.” He leans in close. “This is high school bullshit, and I’m not interested. You’ve built me up in your head to be something I’m not.”
“But . . .”
“No. You listen to me. I want you, I want only you, and I want you to give me a chance. When I asked for that yesterday, I didn’t mean for a one-night stand. I meant a real chance.”
I swallow hard before parting my lips. I’m hoping some words will come out as my brain can’t form any but none do. I lick my lips and Tate’s eyes shoot down to them. He bites his own lip, watching mine intensely.
“Tell me, Harper. Tell me you’ll give us a proper chance.”
I don’t need to think about it. I don’t need to weigh up my options. I know how this story ends. I can see the writing on the wall.
And even so, I say yes anyway.
Tate’s kiss is fierce and full of emotions I have never felt come from a man before. There is anger, frustration, need, want, and even relief, all rolled into one perfect and punishing kiss.
He pulls away before I can even fathom what it all means.
“Go tell him,” he orders.
“Go tell who what?” My mind is a jumble of thoughts, feelings and hormones.
“Go tell your date you are unavailable. Go tell him you’re mine. Better yet . . .” Tate heads for the office door.
I grab his arm, trying to pull him back. “No, no, no,” I beg. “I’ll tell him. I have been more than rude already and there’s no way I’m letting you go out there to humiliate him more.” My voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.
Tate relaxes in my hold and smiles down at me, as if he had planned that reaction all along and I had played right into his hands. I playfully narrow my eyes at him as I head out of the office, Tate slapping my ass as I pass him.
I walk through the kitchen as slowly as I can without looking like an idiot, prepping myself, and trying to delay the inevitable embarrassment and shame I’m about to endure. I’m sure my face and chest are flushed with heat and my lips are probably swollen and red, which only helps to make me feel like more of an asshole.
I approach the table and Dane stands, and I see he’s left some money laying there for our order. He gives me a sad smile, and my heart drops. I definitely didn’t intend to hurt him, and I probably should’ve thought for maybe more than five seconds about whether this date was a good idea or not.
“He’s the little distraction, isn’t he?” There’s no anger in his tone, just resignation.
“Yeah, he is.” I look down at Dane’s chest, not able to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dane. I have been a proper rude bitch tonight. I’m really ashamed—”
“Harper, stop,” he interrupts. “You tried to cancel on me. In hindsight, it makes more sense now, but I pushed and pushed until you agreed.” He looks away, rub
bing his hand over the back of his neck. “I should’ve taken the hint, but when I said you’re the only normal girl I’ve met online, I wasn’t joking. I guess I just really wanted to meet you.”
“I’m really sorry for my behaviour tonight.”
“Harper,” he chuckles. “You’re making me feel like more of a loser.”
“I’m sor . . .” He places his fingers over my lips to silence them, before leaning in and whispering into my ear.
“Stop. Just promise me if things don’t work out with him, I’ll be the first person you call.”
He removes his hands from my lips and pulls out a business card from his back pocket. He shoves it into my hands and smiles warmly at me. “Bye, Harper.”
I stand frozen, still shocked by the intimate touch and closeness. Shaking my head, I look down at the card. When I lift my gaze, Tate is standing at the kitchen entrance, glaring at the spot Dane was recently standing in.
His eyes move to mine and I smirk at his glacial expression as he walks around the counter towards me.
“I should’ve been the one to tell him,” he snarls as he reaches me.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” I laugh at him.
“Really?” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him.
“Yes, really.”
“Well, I don’t mind it. Actually, I like it a lot.” He smiles down at me.
“Yeah, actually, so am I,” I say, my tone serious.
Tate places a light kiss under my ear, on my jaw, on the corner of my mouth, and one last one on the tip of my nose. “Come home with me?”
“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly breathless.
My favourite grin lights up his face, and I relax in his hold as my knees weaken. I’m sure he could inspire world peace with that smile.
He takes hold of my hand and leads me to the door. Passing the bin, I drop Dane’s business card into it as Tate pulls me out of the café. For some reason, I have a feeling I won’t be needing his number.
My heart flutters and drops all at once at the thought. Flutters in the hope I have for Tate and I to make it work, and drops in the fear that I’m doing the same thing I have done so many times before. Falling too quick. Falling too hard.
I force the thoughts out of my mind and follow Tate up to his apartment. He doesn’t even slow down as he drags me straight to his bedroom. Leading us over to the bed, he sits on the edge and tugs me between his legs. I can already feel his excitement against my thigh and anticipation rolls through me.
He lifts my T-shirt so only a small patch of skin is showing above my jeans. Leaning in, he places soft kisses across my stomach. His movements are slow and torturous as he moves the shirt higher, taking his kisses higher with it.
My head rolls back as my breasts are revealed. With only a thin lace bra on, the cool air tickles my nipples, and from that and Tate’s attentions, they pucker in excitement. He takes one of them in his mouth and sucks it over the thin material, the coarseness of the lace causing pain and pleasure all at once, and I moan.
Tate growls deep in his throat before wrapping his teeth around my nipple and biting down. I yelp in shock and he soothes the bite with soft licks and kisses. I rub my legs together, trying to alleviate some of the tension, and my jeans rub in the most perfect way.
Whimpering at the contact, which is not nearly enough, Tate’s head flies back as his eyes shoot up to mine. The vision of him holding my hips, his head resting between my breasts looking up at me, stops me cold. It wouldn’t be a burden to see that sight on a regular basis.
Before my thoughts get carried away, he tightens his grip on my hips and throws me back onto the bed. I laugh loudly as he crawls over me and pulls my shirt off the rest of the way and tosses it aside.
“I’m exploring every inch of you tonight, Daisy. Every inch that I didn’t get to taste last night.”
My laughter dies at his words, and I give him a small nod.
Tate fulfils his promise and more, and by the time we finally fall asleep, a tangle of naked limbs, it’s well into the early hours again.
I’m awoken only a few hours later to find my legs spread and Tate’s head between them, devouring me. Kissing, tickling, and torturing me. “Mmmmmm,” I moan.
Tate’s head lifts to meet my sleepy eyes. “Well good morning, Daisy. It’s time to wake up.”
“God, don’t stop.” I place my hands on either side of his head, running my fingers through his short hair.
“Oh, I don’t plan on it.” He smiles a cocky grin.
And he doesn’t. Well, not until I’ve had three orgasms anyway.
He crawls up next to me on the bed and pulls my limp body into his arms. I lie against his firm chest and release a deep sigh.
“You can wake me up like that any day.” I nuzzle into him.
“I’ll wake you up like that every day.” He squeezes me tight.
We lie in silence for several minutes, and I just enjoy it. Enjoy his hard body against my soft one; enjoy his sweet but manly scent. Just enjoy him.
“What do you want to do today?” Tate breaks the silence.
“Who says I’m doing anything with you?” I say seriously. “What? Just because I said I’d date you exclusively doesn’t mean I need you clinging to me. Maybe you should find some friends online.”
In a flash, I am on my back, my body pinned to the mattress, my arms held above my head. A snarling Tate leans into me, our noses only an inch apart.
“If you are going to emasculate me, cutting my balls off would probably be easier and less painful.”
I chuckle. “Oh, Tate, don’t get upset. It’s fine, I’ll spend the day with you. Unless I get a better offer online.”
He leans closer and bites my bottom lip. “Ouch,” I yelp, running my tongue over it, trying to soothe the pain seeing as my hands are being held captive by Tate’s. “Too soon?” I ask.
“Yes,” he growls. “Way too soon.”
I lean up to kiss him but he turns away from me in mock sadness, so I trail soft kisses over the cheek he has turned towards me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. He doesn’t respond so I continue my affection, kissing down his jaw, along to the corner of his mouth.
“I have a way you can make it up to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” I laugh. “And what’s that?”
“Stay with me for the weekend.”
“Oh.” I wrinkle my nose. “I thought you were going to ask for something else.”
“Fuck, you can do that, too.” He laughs, reading my mind.
“Eh,” I shrug non-committal. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll stay the weekend, I guess. I have nothing better to do.”
Tate growls before kissing me. It’s hard and punishing, and I give back everything he puts into it. He plunges his tongue in my mouth, and mine is eager to meet it. Releasing my hands he brings his down to hold my face, mine automatically wrapping around his neck.
It feels so right. Everything with Tate does. I am comfortable with him, and I trust him. Shit, I really do. I’m probably falling into the same trap I have so many times before, but I can’t help it. It’s like the dream you have when you’re falling. I’m waving my arms and legs trying to stop it but nothing can. You just wait for the inevitable landing. The earth-shattering collision.
Is that where this is heading? To the mandatory end? I can’t believe that. I can’t ponder on it or sit around and wait for it. Not with Tate.
He pulls back, breathing hard. “Let’s stay in today.”
“I don’t have anything with me. I’ll need to go to my place and grab some stuff.”
“Daisy, trust me. You won’t need anything.”
I roll my eyes. “Male, much? Even so, I’d like to go get some things.”
“Okay.” He laughs. “We can swing by your place and get you some stuff and then we could head to the video shop and grab some DVDs, if you want?”
“Sounds good.” I give him a swift kiss. “But you know I’m picking the movies, right?”
“Doesn’t even need to be said.”
Rolling off me, he gets up from the bed and I get another great full-frontal view of the perfection that is Tate. He is by far the hottest guy I have been with. And I’m not tooting my own horn; in all honesty, I am kind of punching above my weight.
God must have been in a good mood the day he made Tate Washington. He is tall and firm, not at all bulky but trim as hell, all his hard lines covered by his perfect skin. Skin he has only enhanced with all that artwork. I stare unabashedly, my mouth partly hanging open.
“Come on, Daisy.” He laughs. “Let’s get showered and head out. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back home.”
Home. I knew what he meant by it. It was his home. But God, it sounded good saying it in a sentence with ‘we.’
Hopping off the bed, I don’t cover myself as I take his extended hand and let him lead me to the bathroom. He leaves me standing by the shower as he leans in and turns on the water, adjusting it to the perfect temperature before he takes my hand again and pulls me inside.
It’s not the biggest shower, but that makes it all the better as we stand close, Tate wrapping his arms tightly around me as he places us under the hot water. Resting my face on his chest, I close my eyes as the shower warms me.
Tate moves out of the spray but doesn’t move away from me. He reaches out with one hand and grabs his bodywash. Opening the top, he drizzles it all over my back and then places it on the tiny glass shelf, bringing his hands back to my body.
Slowly rubbing his hands all over my skin, he slides from the top of my shoulders all the way over my bum and the backs of my thighs.
“You never explained to me about the café,” I say, breaking the comfortable silence between us. “Maurice said you’re the boss. Do you manage it? You seem to be there a lot.”
“No,” Tate says casually. “I own it.”
“Oh, wow, really?” I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting that. “Is that what you always wanted to do?”
“You sound surprised?” He laughs. “And no, it isn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be a famous musician.”
“Oh.” This surprises me even more, and I’m not sure which piece of information to focus on first.
Whatever You Do Page 13
