by K. A. Finn
Chloe smiles as she listens to him singing. She’s dating him. She’s dating Tate Archer. Her sister is going to find this entire thing hilarious. She’s the one who immerses herself in the glossy magazines and reality shows and the like. No doubt Steph would have recognised him from a mile off.
Chloe is tempted to ring her and tell her the exciting news. The fact she’s seeing someone is news enough. The last few years have been more miss than hits when it came to men. Every time she spoke to her sister she would get the usual interrogation about her love life, or lack thereof. When she hears her sister is dating Tate it may actually shut her up for a while. Well, until the questions about the man himself start. And no doubt a surprise visit to meet him.
She lies back on the couch, closes her eyes, and listens to him singing. Maybe she’ll hold off on telling anyone and just enjoy having Tate all to herself for a little longer.
∞
Tate closes the front door behind him and smiles to himself when he hears one of his songs playing. Sounds like Chloe is getting to grips with their music. Thousands of people listen to him sing, but for some reason knowing she is sends him into stupid grinning mode.
He slips off his jacket and quietly opens the door from the hallway into the living area - not that you’d be able to hear much over the music. He leans against the bookcase inside the door and watches Chloe dance around his kitchen as she makes herself a cup of tea.
Her long hair is still damp and swings over her shoulders as she moves. Her feet are bare and the jeans and tank top she’s wearing hug every stunning curve of her body. It is without a doubt one of the sexiest things he’s ever seen. What the fuck did he do to deserve someone like her?
To top off the image, she’s singing along with him and getting most of the words right, which isn’t easy. He sings the first few lines of each verse pretty fast but she’s got the hang of it.
As much as he could happily watch her all day, he wants so much more. His hands need to be all over those curves. Chloe notices him a split second before he grabs her around the waist, spinning her around, and pulling her back against his chest. He brushes her hair out of his way as he kisses along her neck and up to her earlobe. Before he realises what he’s doing he sings along with himself on the TV.
He’s never been good singing one-on-one, but it feels right with her. As he sings he runs a hand between her breasts and down to her stomach. Chloe groans and presses against him, rubbing against his more than ready cock. All the while he keeps singing to her and Chloe seems to be liking it.
She reaches behind her and fists her hand in his hair as her other hand guides him exactly where she wants him. Tate slips his fingers under the top of her underwear and slides a finger inside. As he sings, Chloe pushes back, grinding her ass against him. Her other hand moves from his hair to rub him through his jeans. He stops singing, spins her around then lifts her onto the edge of the countertop. She wraps her legs around him and pulls his t-shirt off.
‘Keep singing.’
Tate does his best but he’s struggling to remember the fucking words. She kisses along the side of his neck and uses her legs to hold him close against her. Her tongue flicks against his ear and she gently pulls at his earrings.
Fuck singing. He needs his mouth for other things. He pulls off her t-shirt and bra then lies her back on the counter. Her jeans don’t put up much of a fight before he tackles his own clothes. Chloe looks at him as she slides a finger between her legs. Chloe groans as he takes her hand and pushes her fingers further into her pussy.
‘I want to watch you fuck yourself.’
His dick throbs as her long fingers disappear deep inside her. She bites her lip and looks at him as she plays with herself. In his kitchen. On his fucking counter. Her breath increases, her breasts rising and falling as she gets closer to coming. Tate takes his cock in his hand as her pace quickens. He’s so ready to get inside her, but not yet. If it kills him he’s going to wait until she’s done.
Her back arches off the counter as she gasps. Her fingers slide out of her pussy and he grabs her wrist guiding it to his mouth, greedily sucking them clean.
He grabs the condom from his wallet and quickly puts it on. There’s no taking it gently with her. Not after that. He slips into her, nearly coming as she tightly squeezes him. He pulls her towards him and Chloe rakes her fingernails down his chest, finding his piercing. It didn’t take her long to figure out playing with his nipple piercing is guaranteed to drive him fucking crazy.
Tate grips her waist as he thrusts into her. Chloe reaches down and rubs her fingers around her clit, brushing against his cock as he fucks her.
‘Fuck, Chloe. Don’t stop.’
Tate drives his hips forwards faster and faster, unable to get enough of Chloe and what she does to him. He looks down and grinds out a curse. The sight of his dick sliding in and out of her pussy while she’s playing with herself is too much.
‘Now, Chloe. Come for me now.’
Tate digs his fingers into her flesh as he holds back, waiting for her to come first. He takes over and runs his thumb over her clit. She’s so close. Even after this short time together he’s getting to know her body. Getting to know how her breathing changes when she’s about to orgasm, the small hitch in her breath like she’s doing right now.
She arches off the counter, her pussy tightening around him destroying the last of his restraint. He curses loudly as his orgasm hits, the waves continuing as she milks him until he collapses on the counter, sweaty and gasping for breath. In the background he’s still singing away on the TV oblivious to what’s just happened.
‘Hi.’ Chloe brushes his hair back from his face when he finally gets the energy to lift his head. ‘How was work?’
He laughs. ‘Yeah, not bad, thanks. Hell of a welcome home.’
‘I’m pretty sure you instigated it.’
‘You swinging your ass in my direction when I came in instigated it.’ He slides out and leans over her, taking in the body he can’t get enough of. ‘You are fucking stunning.’
She blushes which just makes her look completely adorable. ‘You mean that, don’t you.’
‘Of course.’ He points to his groin. ‘That’s a genuine reaction to you, Chloe. Damn thing is permanently standing at attention when you’re around. You mind if I shut myself up? I’ve listened to myself singing enough today.’
Chloe laughs and drapes an arm over her face. ‘No problem.’
He throws the condom in the bin then searches for the remote. He picks a random mix instead, turning the sound down a little before he joins her again. ‘You need help dismounting the counter?’
‘Probably best. I still can’t feel my legs.’
Tate picks her up and carries her over to the couch. He tucks in beside her and brushes his hand through her hair.
Chloe traces the wings of the griffin across his chest. ‘You know, I’ve never been like this with anyone before.’
‘I fucking hope not,’ he replies, surprised at the sudden tightening in his chest at the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her.
‘No, I mean all this. I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone. What happened last night... you know, taking the lead with you. That was a first for me. I don’t do things like that. You’re a bad influence, Tate Archer.’
‘Is that so? That was sexy as hell, Chloe. Both last night and now. I mean it.’
‘You’re just too damn... shaggable. I can’t help myself.’
He pushes back so he can look at her face. ‘I’m sorry, I’m what?’
‘Every single time I look at you I want you. I was making myself a cup of tea. You walk in and a few seconds later I’m naked on a counter. There are floor to ceiling windows, Tate. Anyone could have seen us.’
‘The only person who could see you was me. And if you’re complaining about the counter, I’ve got a very comfortable bed upstairs if you’d prefer.’
‘Lunch first.’
He nuzzles into the
side of her neck. ‘Spoil sport.’
Chloe traces his jaw with her finger. ‘We’ll need all our energy for your incredibly comfortable bed later.’
‘Is that right? And just for the record, this is all new for me too.’
She looks surprised by his admission. ‘It is?’
‘Yeah. I can be myself with you. I’ve never felt I could do that before.’
‘Maybe me not knowing who you were at the start helped get us to this point.’
He nods. ‘You might be right. Whatever the reason, I’m not complaining. Although, I might have to take those songs off our tour setlist.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because every single time I hear them I’m going to picture you naked, playing with yourself on my counter. Could wind up being a bit embarrassing for me when my friend springs to life mid song.’
‘Ah. I see what you’re saying. Sorry about that.’
‘Never apologise for that. It’s no big deal. It’s not like they’re popular songs anyway.’
‘They are, aren’t they?’
‘Yep. Always the ones people ask for.’
‘So concerts will be fun for you from now on.’
He laughs and pulls her close to him, breathing her in. He has absolutely no interest in moving. Ever. Her fingers play with his hair, the rhythmic stroking nearly sending him to sleep.
He’d only managed two hours sleep last night and they had been purely by accident. Thankfully, he hadn’t had a nightmare but was too scared to risk it. Besides, lying awake listening to her breathing wasn’t a bad way to spend a few hours. He’s paying for it now though. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want her to leave. He’ll just lie with her for a few minutes then get lunch ready.
∞
Chloe waits a few minutes after he falls asleep before she slowly works her way out from under Tate’s arm. She finally manages to extract herself and pulls the blanket from the other couch, carefully laying it over his naked body. She holds her breath as he stirs, but all he does is drape his arm over his face then stills again.
She tiptoes upstairs and showers again, then gets dressed and comes back downstairs. He’s still asleep so she leaves the music on to mask any noises she might make. Chloe faces the broad countertop and smiles to herself. She opens a few cupboards before she finds something to clean the top with.
Once every trace of their session is wiped away, she picks up the two brown paper bags Tate left at the door when he came in. She unpacks the food and places it in the fridge for later then makes the cup of tea he had distracted her from making earlier.
She takes her mug back into the sitting room and settles on the armchair facing him. He looks tired. Thinking back he always looks tired. Perhaps the nightmares he spoke about keep him awake. Maybe he doesn’t sleep in case he gets dragged into a dream? He must be exhausted. He was barely on the couch for ten minutes before he drifted off.
She smiles as she watches him sleep. He’s beautiful. She hasn’t used that word to describe many men she’s known, but he deserves it. She’s not just referring to his looks, although that is a definite plus. The more she gets to know him, the real him, the person he is inside, the more attractive he becomes. The passion he has for his music is hard to miss. His face lit up when he was talking about performing and she found it impossible not to smile along with him. He absolutely loves what he does and rightly so.
What her gran said about him was accurate. He hasn’t changed since he found fame. No doubt he’s worth quite a bit but didn’t flaunt what he has. From what she can make out from her gran, he helped his family and treated himself to a house and some new transport, but that was it. Unless of course he had a few more houses all over the world, but she highly doubts it.
He wasn’t doing what he does for the fame and fortune. He was doing it because he loved singing and playing music. All the other stuff was a happy accident.
She has no intention of waking him up. He needs to sleep and she’s more than happy to let him get some much needed rest. Problem is, it’s half-one and she’s hungry. She takes one of the pasta salads he brought home with him and sits at the counter while she eats, looking out the window at the rain.
As she’s placing the bowl in the dishwasher, she hears what sounds like a whimper from Tate. The groan that follows is full of pain and stops her in her tracks. He wraps his arms around his head and curls into a ball as he mutters something that sounds like ‘please.’
She turns off the music and sits on the arm of the chair next to his head. Tate pulls at his hair and he buries his head further under his arms, like he’s trying to protect himself from whatever he’s experiencing. Like he had done on the beach a few days ago.
Chloe slowly places her hand on his head and runs her fingers through his hair between his clenched fists. It was something her mother always did for her when she was a child and it soothed her every single time. It seems to be working for him too. She can see the muscles in his arms relaxing and his fingers loosen their painful grip on his hair. After a few minutes his breathing steadies and his whole body relaxes.
She keeps it up until his arm drops from over his face. Chloe gently kisses his cheek then retreats to the other couch and hugs her knees to her chest.
He’s not dealing with what happened to him when he was a child. After seeing what she just did she is sure of that much. Rehab helped him overcome his addiction, but the reason for turning to drugs in the first place is still very much there and something he’s not talking about.
Chloe rests her chin on her knees and watches as his brow furrows briefly before he relaxes again. Unfortunately she has no idea how to help him. Avoiding sleep is only going to make things so much worse for him. Especially when he begins to tour again.
All she can do is hope that, with time, he’ll trust her enough to talk about what really happened to him.
15
Tate wakes to the smell of something amazing coming from his kitchen. He stretches and rolls over, smiling widely when he spots Chloe in the kitchen getting lunch ready. But then he glances out the window behind her and his stomach drops. Unless the sun is moving all skew ways, it’s well past lunchtime.
‘How long was I asleep for?’
She checks her watch and smiles at him. ‘Six hours or so. How do you feel?’
‘Mortified for starters.’ Great move to fall asleep and leave her on her own in a strange house for six hours. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’
‘Hey. Stop that. You were tired. Did you sleep at all last night?’
‘I’m not a great sleeper at the moment. What the hell have you been doing all afternoon?’
She turns down the heat on the hob and picks up a pile of paper from the coffee table. ‘Well, I admit I was a little unsure what to do for about half an hour then decided to make myself useful. I planned what I was going to make for dinner. After that I may have stolen some paper from the office. I hope you don’t mind.’ She hands him the pages and Tate flicks through the landscapes of the view from his house.
‘You did all these while I was asleep?’
‘It’s amazing how much you can get done with no distractions. Well, apart from you snoring away in the background.’
‘Oh fuck, please don’t tell me I was snoring.’
She kisses him on the forehead before going back to their dinner.
‘Not for long.’
He places the drawings back on the table and scrubs a hand over his face. He may be pissed off that he fell asleep, but he hasn’t felt this rested in months. Lately, sleep was something he did only when he absolutely had to which was seriously off for him. Before Christmas he’d have happily slept most of the morning away. Now he’s scared of it. If he wasn’t sleeping deeply, the nightmares wouldn’t have a chance to get him. Great in theory but the practice part was falling short. He runs a hand through his hair and winces when he rubs against a cut on his scalp.
‘I had a nightmare, didn’t I.’
‘Ye
s, but you settled again. You started mumbling so I ran my hand over your hair until you relaxed again. My mother always did it to me when I had nightmares.’
He’s at a loss for words. Whatever she’d done, it had bought him a few hours of peace. The nightmare hadn’t really registered with him.
She gestures to the stairs. ‘Now, why don’t you grab a shower and get dressed. I’d prefer you stay naked, but I’ve gone to a lot of trouble here. I don’t want dinner ruined because you’re distracting me.’
He does as he’s told even though he’d prefer to distract her before dinner. When he comes back downstairs she’s dishing up their food. ‘Where did you get all this from?’
‘I’ve reheated the leftover pasta dish you brought back for lunch and made a sauce from bits I found in your cupboards and freezer. I hope you don’t mind.
‘My cupboards? As in the ones in the kitchen?’
‘Yes. As in the ones in your kitchen. Why do you look so surprised?’
‘That’s like my snowed in, absolute desperate for food stash. I didn’t actually think there was anything that could make all this.’
‘I’m going to be doing most of the cooking, aren’t I?’
He sits down beside her and grins. ‘Afraid so. Cooking and me - we have a love/hate thing going on.’ He tries the food and is really impressed. ‘This tastes amazing, Chloe.’
‘Glad you like it. So, are you going to tell me how long you’ve had trouble sleeping?’
He swallows and takes a long drink before he answers. ‘A while.’
‘That answer firmly sits in the vague category. I’m not trying to be nosey, Tate. I’m just worried about you.’
‘I know and I appreciate that, but I’m grand, really. I’m used to getting by on hardly any sleep.’ He doesn’t bother adding that in the past he’d used artificial means to give himself a boost. He didn’t realise until recently how much of a boost he actually got from what he took.
Chloe leans back in the chair and smirks at him. ‘It’s so obvious you’re used to being interviewed. You have a fantastic knack of avoiding giving a straight answer.’