Should I get on the bed, or just stand here and pose?
Doubt sweeps through me as I hear the water shut off in the bathroom. What am I doing? Seducing a man like Tate Steele? He’s probably going to take one look at me and laugh. I’m a good ten pounds heavier than I was the last time he saw me naked, though a good portion of that’s in my boobs. I’m just…different now, and it’s freaking me out a little.
Besides, what if he’s not interested? What if his kisses and gentle touches don’t mean what I thought? I know I fall asleep in his arms every night and on those rare occasions he’s still in bed in the morning when I get up, he’s usually wrapped around me like a blanket. And yes, he has morning wood, but don’t all men? That doesn’t mean it’s because he wants to have sex with me. It just means he’s a guy.
Oh, God, I can’t do this.
Just as I spin around to grab an old T-shirt to change into, I find Tate standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a pair of nylon basketball shorts that hide nothing, if you know what I mean. “Ash?” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off my body. The negligee barely covers my ass, the lace hugging my abdomen like a second skin. The cups barely hold my girls, but that doesn’t seem to bother him too much. In fact, if what’s happening in his shorts is any indication, I’d say he likes it.
A lot.
“Oh, uh, hi.”
Tate steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. His eyes roam my body once more before meeting mine. There’s raw lust reflected in those hazel eyes as he joins me in the middle of the room. He reaches out but doesn’t touch me. “What’s this?”
I glance down before meeting his eyes. “Just a little something I picked up,” I state with a shrug.
He takes another step closer, this time, placing his hand on my hip. “You’re breathtaking, Sweetness.”
“Huh,” I chuckle awkwardly. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” he replies, taking one final half-step forward so we’re right in front of each other. His other hand goes to my lower back as he pulls me against his chest. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
I don’t reply with words. The blush creeping up my neck takes care of it for me.
Tate’s finger touches my chin before slowly sliding down my neck to the valley between my breasts, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hand carefully cups my left breast, my nipples already hard and straining against the material. I gasp as he slips one large hand beneath the lace and lightly pinches my nipple.
“Are you sure?” he asks, searching my eyes.
I’m already nodding. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He moves, lifting me into his arms and kissing me hard on the lips. My hands grip his shoulders, reveling in the feel of his warm, hard body beneath my fingertips. Together, we fall onto the bed, his hands moving over my abdomen, gliding effortlessly over the negligee. I forgot how big, how amazing his hands are. It’s like zaps of electricity every time he touches me.
Suddenly, we’re turning and I’m straddling his hips. I can feel the length of him pressed between me, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to grind against him. But it’s been a long time for me, and the slightest friction will probably set me off right now. Sleeping next to him for the last several weeks has only made my desire for him grow.
“There,” he says, moving his hands up my abdomen, cupping my overflowing breasts, his thumb sliding over my nipple. “That’s better. Now I can see all of you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Maybe we should turn off the light,” I tease, though not really teasing at all. I should have turned off the nightstand lamp before he came into the room.
“Fuck no. I want to see how stunning you look in that outfit.”
I glance down to see what he sees, but all I see are the imperfections. The blemishes. Even if they were brought on by the best reason possible—Rowan—I’m still more self-conscious than I ever expected to be. Maybe it’s because it’s him. Tate Steele. Starting quarterback for the St. Louis Fire. Men want to be him, women with him. And here I am, in a new negligee I picked up from Victoria’s Secret that I’m praying covers up the extra weight I’m still carrying in the midsection.
“Don’t,” he says softly, his always wandering hands tracing the lace over my mounds of breasts.
“What?” I ask, that single word coming out a gasp.
“Don’t second-guess how incredibly beautiful you are, Ashtyn. I’ve never seen anything more breathtaking,” he says, the words seeming to choke him up a little.
Relaxing, I bend down, my hands poised on his chest, and kiss him. There’s a hunger there, a raw desire neither of us can contain. So we don’t even try.
I grind against his erection, seeking some relief from the burn between my legs. Tate’s hands go to my hips as I rock back and forth. “Shit, angel, you’re gonna have to stop doing that. It’s been a really long time, and I’m liable to blow in my shorts like a teenager.”
All I can do is smile. Even though women were throwing themselves at him—and still do, by the way—after our night together, he never took them up on their offers.
I reach over to the bedside table and pull out the brand-new box of condoms. Tate’s eyebrows arch upward. “You knew I was a sure thing, huh?”
I shrug, pulling a strip of the protection from the box and ripping off one. “Well, I had hoped you would be.”
His hands cradle my jaw as he says, “I’m always a sure thing for you, Sweetness. Always.”
I move enough so Tate can slip his shorts down his legs. His erection is a thing of beauty. Large, straight, and dripping with precum. When he has the protection in place, I reach down to remove my negligee. His hands stop mine as he says, “I want to see you riding my cock wearing this sexy thing.”
I swallow hard and nod. His eyes watch my every move as I shimmy out of the tiny thong panties hidden beneath the negligee. Once they’re gone, I crawl back onto his broad body, straddling his hips. I can feel how soaking wet I am, and the moment he slides his cock against me, he groans. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you again.”
I lean up and take his erection in my hand, squeezing it lightly for good measure, and position it at my opening. His eyes are pure fire as he gazes up at me. Slowly, I start to lower my body onto his. There’s a stretch and a slight burn, but I adjust quickly to his size. When I’m fully seated, I finally take a deep breath, one I didn’t realize I was holding.
Tate takes my hands, holding me up to take control. I carefully start to rock, lifting my hips and grinding back down. His face is tight as I wiggle, taking him as deep as I possibly can. “Jesus, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, watching my every move.
My body starts to take control, my hips moving faster with each passing second. I can feel my orgasm building and know there’s no way of stopping it. “Tate,” I gasp, as the end inches closer and closer.
“Take what you need, Sweetness. Make yourself come on my cock.”
His words are like a detonator. I explode spectacularly, white lights bursting behind my eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure burns through my veins like lava. My limbs start to weaken, as every ounce of energy I have is expelled from my body.