by K. A. Finn
His fingers lace with hers on the handlebars as his hair brushes the side of her face. ‘Loads more. Like I said, I liked the feel of you pressed against me.’
She more than liked it too, but for some reason she’s lost the ability to speak.
‘Chloe?’
‘What?’
‘Do you like salad with your bolognese.’
She laughs and digs him gently in the ribs. ‘No, thank you.’
‘Thank fuck. I haven’t got any.’ He kisses her on the neck then climbs off, holding out his hand to help her. ‘C’mon. Our table should be about ready.’
∞
Their table turns out to be the couch with their plates balancing on their knees, but Chloe has no complaints. Never in a million years did she think she’d be so relaxed here, but she is. How can he turn her on so much yet make her feel so comfortable at the same time? He’s so chilled out it’s difficult not to be the same.
His house cost more than she could ever make no matter how hard she worked, but inside it was homely. You could tell it was expensive, but he didn’t have any frills or unnecessary gadgets in every corner. There was no airs or graces, just like with Tate himself.
‘You were right.’
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and frowns. ‘About what?’
‘That was a killer bolognese.’
Tate laughs and reaches over to take her plate. ‘I wouldn’t get too excited. It’s the only thing I can cook. Well, apart from a bacon butty. We take it in turns to cook when we’re touring. That’s my contribution.’
‘You don’t eat out all the time?’
He slips the dishes into the dishwasher and grabs another bottle of water. ‘At first sure, but eating out all the time gets old real fast. We usually do self-catering when we’re away. Gives us more privacy.’
‘I thought you’d be living it up in posh hotels. That’s killed that image for me.’
He refills her glass and sits beside her, a little closer than he was before. He drapes his arm across the back of the couch, but unfortunately doesn’t actually touch her. ‘Sorry about that. I’m sure others do it that way, but we’ve never been much into that side of things. The crew stay in a hotel but we prefer to rent a house together.’
‘But what about all your adoring fans waiting for you in the lobby?’
‘We do meet and greets with them, but no ambushes in hotel lobbies. Our bus will be at the hotel, but we’ll be squirrelled away somewhere else eating, sleeping, and practising. It’s not as glamorous as people think.’
‘But you enjoy it.’
His face lights up and she can’t help but be jealous. It must be amazing to love your job so much. ‘Every second. This is going to sound big-headed, but when you’re on stage and there’s a crowd of strangers in front of you singing a song you wrote... I can’t describe it. Each and every one of those people have paid their hard earned money to come and see us. It makes all the hard work, all the knock backs worth it.’ He turns to face her and tucks one leg under the other. ‘When I perform, that’s all that exists. Jesus, that sounds crap.’
‘It’s just you, the band and your fans.’
He nods. ‘Yes. That sounded a hell of a lot less corny. Have you been to a concert or live performance?’
‘Of course.’
‘You know what it’s like when you’re in that moment, watching, dancing, and singing along. It doesn’t matter what else is going on in your life. During that hour or two or whatever, there’s nothing else.’
She knows exactly what he’s talking about. ‘Is it like that for you every time you perform?’
‘Every single time. It doesn’t matter if I’ve sung the same songs three or four times a week for months, that feeling is new every time I get on stage.’
‘You’re lucky to have that.’
‘I know. What about you? Have you ever thought about doing something more with your art?’
Chloe laughs and shakes her head. ‘Eh no. That’s purely a hobby for me. It’s never going to pay the bills. Besides, I’m really looking forward to teaching. And I will get to do art with them, although it may be more crafting than art, but I can’t wait either way. It’s about time I finally settled into a job that may actually have a future.’
‘I get that.’
‘You say that like you think this isn’t your forever job.’
Chloe swallows thickly as he twists her hair around his fingers. She doubts he’s doing it intentionally, but he’s driving her crazy. He couldn’t keep his hands off her in the summer house, yet in the privacy of his own house there was barely any contact. Apart from a quick kiss on her neck earlier, this is the first time he’s touched her.
‘What we do, it’s not exactly what you’d call secure. It’ll come to an end at some stage. I could wake up one day and my voice is gone, or the songs I write are crap. We can only earn a living if people pay to see us perform or buy our songs.
‘And it’s not like we’re the only ones doing it. The competition is fierce. We have to keep pushing ourselves to make sure we stand out. Everything we do now has to add something to our retirement pot whenever that happens. It could be next year. It might be ten years from now. The rug could be pulled from under our feet at any stage.’
‘I never thought of it that way.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, we’re hoping we’ll be going for another few years yet. I’m only thirty-six. Wouldn’t mind getting to my forties at least before I have to have a rethink my career options.’
‘At least you’ve always got teaching to fall back on. I’m sure Gran would sign up for more piano lessons. Hey, maybe you could teach her the violin too.’
Tate laughs loudly at that. ‘Yeah, not so sure I could teach her full time. I’d have no fucking hair left.’
13
Tate takes the tub of Haagen Dazs out of the freezer and spoons it into two bowls. He still can’t quite believe Chloe didn’t run for the door after he offloaded on her upstairs. Whatever he’s said or done to keep her from leaving, he’ll take it. He can’t believe how easy it was to open up to her like that.
When he told Gregg or spoke to his therapist, it was like pulling nails. It was far from pleasant and he hated saying every single word. Hated hearing the pathetic recount of his fuck up, even if it had helped. First, it was a relief being able to talk about it with her. Second, she knows most of the details and she stayed. The details of exactly what his father did weren’t coming up for discussion, but at least the little he told her helped her understand his pull to drugs. That was the main reason he’d told her.
He really cares about her. The last thing he wanted to do is throw another spanner at what could be a life-changing relationship by ignoring what he did. She deserved to know. He’d already fucked things up once by not making sure she knew exactly who he was. Everything he’s done up to now has only helped to push her away. Time to own his mistakes and show her exactly how important she is to him.
He hands her one of the bowls and sits beside her again. He places his cold bowl on his crotch hoping it kills any ideas his body might have. He’s been on his best behaviour with her all night and it’s killing him. The last thing she needs is for him to throw himself at her like some fucking caveman. No matter how much he wants her, he’s not going to do anything, not after what happened in the summer house. It had been amazing but then he fucked up. This time he’s going to take it slow.
He’s wanted to kiss her since she walked into the studio. He’s never been this worked up about a woman before. He’s had girlfriends over the years but no one who held his attention for longer than a few weeks. It was partly down to the fame thing. There are so many interviews with him all over the place, some people assumed they knew him.
The last three women he attempted to date hadn’t asked him one question about himself. As far as they were concerned, they knew him already and didn’t need to ask him any questions. They didn’t want to be with him. They wanted to say the
y were with him. Big difference and something he nipped in the bud pretty damn fast.
Chloe is different on so many levels. Maybe having those first few meetings without knowing who he was had helped, but something tells him it would have been different with her either way. She’s different. He just has to stop letting his fuck up come between them.
Even without looking he knows he’s attacking his arm again. He closes his eyes and curses under his breath. But then Chloe takes his hand in hers and holds it as she continues to eat. He looks across at her and watches her thumb move in circles on his hand. Even that small act settles him. She doesn’t say anything to him. Doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t draw attention to what he was doing. And that floors him. Yeah, this girl is so very different. If he’s not careful, he could fall for her and that thought terrifies him.
He glances sideways at her and catches her licking the ice-cream from her spoon. There was nothing intentionally seductive about it but his dick thinks differently. He moves the bowl on his lap, hoping to hide what’s straining to get out of his jeans.
‘You done with your bowl?’
He doesn’t get a chance to answer before she stands up and takes it from his lap. Thankfully she heads towards the kitchen giving him time to readjust himself. Not that it does any good. Then she has to go and make things so much worse by leaning down to put the dishes in the machine. Tight jeans hug her incredible ass and long legs. No amount of readjusting is going to help.
What he wants to do is charge over to her, pick her up, lie her on the couch, and bury himself deep inside her. He wants to run his tongue over every curve, to taste the sweat on her skin. He wants to kiss her, lick her, suck her until she screams his name.
Instead, he’s going to struggle with a serious hard-on unable to convince himself to make the move he desperately wants to make. Deep down he’s terrified she’ll reject him. He doubts what’s left of his confidence could survive that. Not that sitting on the couch doing fuck all is helping in any way. He just feels like a pathetic eejit. He’s not sure what’s worse.
‘Tate?’
He wipes his face and looks up at her. ‘Sorry?’
‘Do you want more to drink?’
‘Eh, sorry, yeah. Another water would be great.’ He grabs a cushion from the chair beside him and hugs it to his lap, hoping it looks casual and not weird. He silently thanks his sister. She had insisted he have some cushions on the couches. Not until this moment did he see the need or the point of them. Maybe he could leave a review for them on Amazon. ‘5 stars. Perfect for hiding uncomfortable erections. Would definitely recommend!’
She passes him the drink and places her glass on the coffee table. ‘Where’s your bathroom?’
‘Door next to the bike’s bedroom.’
She smiles at him and his dick jumps in response, pressing painfully against his jeans. He waits until she closes the door behind her before he stands up and rearranges what is downright agonising. His piercings are digging into him, adding pressure to what’s already a far from comfortable situation. He needs to calm down. She might not want this with him after everything he offloaded on her tonight. She’s still here so clearly she doesn’t hate him, so what the fuck is his problem?
He looks down at his arm and grimaces. Since the life changing events after Christmas he hasn’t felt like himself. From the second that needle was stuck in his arm he’s been messed up. When he woke up in hospital, everything had turned on its head. It was like the world kept turning, everyone went on with their lives but he was on a different level of existence. Until he deals with that and gets his head right he really should keep away from Chloe.
The bathroom door opens and he glances up. ‘Fuck, Chloe.’
Instead of the figure-hugging jeans and off the shoulder sweater he’s wanted to take off all evening, she’s only wearing matching black lace underwear. If he’s looking for a hint she may want him, he’s pretty sure that’s a good sign.
‘Is that a good fuck or a bad one?’
He gestures to the bulge desperate to escape his jeans. ‘What do you think?’
She smiles but it’s more mischievous than the one he’s used to seeing. As if reading his mind, she walks over to the rug in front of the fireplace and kneels down. ‘I think it’s your turn to get a little more naked.’
He absolutely couldn’t agree more.
∞
Chloe has no idea where all this confidence is coming from but she’s happy to go along with it. When Gregg came to collect her she had taken a long time to decide if she should plan for what might possibly happen. The underwear had gone in and out of her bag a dozen times before she had finally stuffed the set in her purse and zipped the bag so she couldn’t take them out again.
Over the evening she thought she caught little signs he wanted more but she kept dismissing them. But when she took his empty bowl from his lap, she knew it was what he wanted. The poor guy had tried to hide it, but it was all the confirmation she needed.
She’d take the lead on this. For the first time in her life, she’d make the first move. It was the most terrifying and exhilarating thing she’s ever done. When she locked herself in the bathroom she’d stared at her reflection for a long time before she got the courage to get undressed and slip into the lace set. Knowing he was out there, waiting for her was such a turn on. Seeing him in front of her just upped that to dangerous levels.
As he approaches her, he kicks off his boots and socks. Then he pulls off his t-shirt and Chloe’s heart hammers in her chest. When his jeans and boxers drop she realises she may have bitten off more than she can chew. Everything about this man is seriously impressive.
Then she notices the piercings and she loses a little of her nerve. She’s never been with a guy who’s been pierced down there. Not only does he have the thick black ring piercing the tip, there’s also a bar on the underside near the base where his penis meets his balls.
Tate notices her staring at the two piercings. ‘I can take them out if you want.’
She shakes her head. ‘Don’t you dare. Lie down.’
He raises an eyebrow but she doesn’t back down. She’s on a confidence high and wants this to play out like she pictured it. This is something she wants to do for him first. He lowers onto the rug and lies on his back, giving her an unobstructed view of every inch of his body. She gets to her hands and knees and slowly crawls towards him.
She doesn’t know whether he should have his body on show all the time or whether it’s a good thing he covered it. Every single line, every dip and hollow, every ridge and solid muscle is perfect. And naked. So very naked.
She runs her fingers up his chest and he sucks in a breath. ‘Put your arms over your head and keep them there. No touching, okay. This is my meet and greet.’
Tate smirks at her. ‘Meet and greets don’t usually go like this.’
‘I sincerely hope not.’ Chloe straddles him and shakes her head as his hand moves towards her. ‘No touching.’
Tate grips one wrist in his other hand and stretches his arms over his head. ‘You expect me not to touch you when you look like that.’ He moves his hips and grinds against her. ‘You’re not playing fair.’
‘I haven’t even started yet.’ She leans down, pressing her breasts against his chest as she kisses him. There’s nothing soft and sweet about the kiss from either side. Chloe pulls away and smiles against his neck as he curses. Chloe kisses the side of his neck, tracing the lines of ink with her tongue. She kisses her way down his shoulder to his broad chest, running her tongue across his nipple. He groans as she gently nips it before moving across to the pierced one. She gently flicks her tongue against the black bar running through the centre. All the piercings are completely new to her and the last thing she wants to do is hurt him. ‘Fuck.’
‘Too much?’
‘Not enough.’
Chloe flicks the piercing again, a little harder this time. Tate curses and she feels his arousal twitch under her. There’s so muc
h more to explore on his body so she gives his nipple a little more attention before gently pulling the piercing in her teeth then letting go. Tate gasps and his breathing deepens. ‘Jesus, Chloe. What the fuck are you doing to me?’
She kisses, licks, and nips her way down his hard chest to his tight stomach and the other piercings that are terrifying and exciting her in equal amounts.
She traces her fingers along his thick length. For some reason, seeing the black piercings turns her on more than she thought they would. Moving slowly, she touches the bar at the base of his penis making it jump in response, tapping against his belly button as he grunts. She moves back to the tip and runs her thumb along the ring, rubbing his pre-cum around the head before she licks it off.
Her tongue plays along the thick ring embedded in the tip and Tate’s whole body spasms. She wraps her hand around his cock and holds him upright. As she tastes him, she risks a quick glance up at his face. He’s still holding his wrist in his other hand but his knuckles are white as he restrains himself.
He lifts his head to look down at her and another wave of confidence takes hold of her. She’s driving this spectacular man crazy just by touching him. She keeps her eyes locked on his as she flicks her tongue against the piercing in the head of his cock while massaging his balls. He breaks eye contact and curses loudly into his arm.
∞
All the windows in the house are soundproofed, but Tate still tries to stifle the loud curse coming from him as Chloe tortures him. He wasn’t expecting this. Hell nothing close to this. Not for one second did he think she’d take charge. He wasn’t complaining. Fuck the whole macho pride thing. If a stunning woman wearing sexy underwear tells you to lie down and not move, you lie down and don’t fucking move. No questions. The thing is, the not moving part is proving harder than he thought. He can’t get over how fast she was figuring out his body. If she kept playing with his piercings he was very likely to come in the next few seconds.
Her dark hair tickles his balls as she runs her tongue from the base to the tip of his dick. Chloe smiles up at him as she slowly sucks the ring before letting him go. ‘I like these.’