by Jamie Begley
“It’s more brownish red.”
Sutton traced her fingers over the bruise then leaned over him, placing a gentle kiss on the angry mark. Tate settled himself, getting more comfortable against the pillows.
“That make it better?”
“Not yet,” he answered grumpily.
Sutton ran the tip of her tongue over it.
“That’s helping a little.”
She slid her lips to the right to the faint mark on his stomach. “Better?”
“Getting there,” he groaned.
Sutton tugged down the blanket that was covering his lower body, and then she delicately flicked her tongue against the flesh at his hip, moving down to the mark on his thigh, gently brushing the edge of her teeth over the mark she had left there.
“You’re missing the spot that’s really hurting.” He wrapped his hands in her hair, trying to guide her toward his cock that was straining upward.
“I don’t remember shooting you here.” Sutton traced the tip with her tongue before taking the head into her warm mouth.
“Every time you look at me, it’s like a shot to my dick.” His hand went to the nape of her neck, holding her in place as his hips surged upward, forcing her to take more of his cock into her mouth.
She sucked on him, feeling him get harder and longer in her mouth. She had only given Scott oral sex a couple of times, disliking having him in her mouth. With Tate, she couldn’t get enough.
Relaxing her throat, she tried to take more of him, wanting him to enjoy it more than he had with other women. She felt herself dampen at the empty feeling in her pussy and pressed her thighs together to lessen the ache.
“Let me help with that.”
Tate rolled to the side, flipping her upside-down. His intention had her scampering to the edge of the bed.
“I’m not ready for that. I’ve never … Scott wouldn’t …”
Tate sat up, the passion in his eyes deepening. “Come here. You’re making me horny as hell.”
“Not tonight … Maybe some other—”
Sutton squealed when Tate took her ankle in a firm grip, dragging her down the bed. Her thighs splayed open inelegantly, and without giving her time to protest, his mouth latched on to her pussy. Sutton arched. Any protest she was about to give died instantly at the unbelievable pleasure of having him tease her clit with his tongue.
Rolling to her side, she took him back in her mouth, wanting to share the pleasure he was giving her. Squeezing his balls in the palm of her hand, she found a rhythm that mimicked his flicking tongue. The more Tate tormented her, the more she tormented him, each trying to outdo the other as their slick flesh slid against each other.
Sutton raised her head briefly, trying to catch her breath as she rested on his thigh. She moaned as she desperately tried to keep herself from coming. Turning her head to the side, she bit down on the inner flesh of his thigh.
A loud groan had her rising to take his cock back in her mouth as she gave up trying to hold back, giving her orgasm full reign as she brought Tate to his by sucking the tip of his cock, her hand sliding slickly on him as he gave up his own battle.
When he finished, Sutton dropped back onto the bed, panting as she stared up at the ceiling.
Tate’s voice was hoarse when he asked if she was all right. When she was unable to answer, he changed position, laying his head down next to hers at the bottom of the bed.
“Sutton?”
Her head tilted to the side. “I’m not frigid.”
Tate’s mouth turned into a smirk. “Darlin’, you don’t have a frigid bone in that sexy body of yours.” He plucked at her still-pebbled nipple.
“I thought I was for years.”
“If you were married for years, and he never went down on you, then he was an idiot.” His mouth went to whisper in her ear, “Get used to it. I could get addicted to the taste of you.”
“Did I do okay? I know I’m not very good, but I’ll get better. Scott always complained I was too rough.”
“He was a sissy, wasn’t he?”
Sutton tried to crawl over him to get out of the bed. When Tate had moved his things into her bedroom, he had shoved the bed against the wall, telling her they would get more fresh air at night.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the paintball gun.”
Chapter 20
“You’re getting all dressed up just to meet your boss?” Tate sat on the bed, pulling on his boots.
Sutton sighed. “For the fifth time, he’s my boss, and I don’t wear jeans and a T-shirt to work.”
“You’re not going to work; you’re meeting him for lunch.”
“To talk about the routes I’ll be taking over, which is work,” she stressed.
“Ready?”
“I already told you I didn’t need you to drive me into town. I’m driving myself.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” She brushed past him, going to the living room to pick up her purse.
“Be careful and keep an eye out for anything strange. Remember, they haven’t found the shooter.”
“I’ll be careful.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him good-bye. “I won’t be long.”
“Okay.”
Tate buttoned up his shirt and pulled on his hat before going to the porch, hearing the motor of Sutton’s car grind. She tried several times to turn the motor over before getting out of the car.
“Having a problem?” Keeping a straight face with effort, he saw the suspicion in her eyes.
“The car won’t start.”
“Let me have a look.” He casually walked over to the car. Pressing a button by the steering wheel, he popped the hood and raised it, leaning over the engine and studying it before twisting a few wires, and then he straightened. “It’s dead.”
“I knew that.”
“Well, it’s really dead. Would you like me to give you a lift to town?”
“Yes, please. I don’t have time to call someone else for a ride.”
“You sure?” he asked nonchalantly.
“I’m sure.” Her jaw was clenched tightly as she walked toward his truck, nearly tripping in her high heels.
“Be careful. It hurts like a bitch to fall on gravel.”
He took a quick step backward when she slung the truck door open, nearly hitting him.
“Whoa! There’s no need to be so pissy.” He climbed behind the steering wheel, starting the truck.
“Tate, I know damn well you had something to do with that car not starting.”
“It’s a rental, so what can you expect? I remember one time I had to rent a car, and it broke down—”
“Shut up,” Sutton growled.
Tate closed his mouth, humming “Camp Town Ladies” all the way into town. By the time he pulled into King’s restaurant, he thought she was going to explode.
As soon as he parked, she jumped out of the truck, and Tate moved to get out.
“Don’t you dare, I’ll get Liam to drive me home.”
“I can wait.”
“Tate Porter …”
He lifted his hands up in surrender, shutting his truck door. He grimaced when she slammed her door shut.
“I’m going to need a new truck with the way you’re treating it,” he yelled out his window to her retreating back. He smiled when she practically tore the door to King’s restaurant off the hinges.
Whistling, he strummed his fingers against the steering wheel, giving her several minutes to get settled before he slid out of his truck, not bothering to lock it. No one in town would be stupid enough to steal his truck. They could find a better one in the junkyard.
It didn’t take him a second to find her in the busy restaurant.
The owner of the restaurant walked toward him with a cold expression on his harsh face.
“You eating or drinking?” King blocked him from entering the restaurant any farther.
His brows drew together. “Is that any way to greet a customer?”
“
Depends on whether you’re eating or drinking and if those brothers of yours are joining you. The last time you came in with Greer and Dustin, one waitress quit, and I had to fire another one.”
“How is it our fault she kept giving us free beer? And Lindy shouldn’t have believed Dustin was really going to pay her bills and set her up so she would never have to work again. He was drunk off his ass. She should have at least waited until he sobered up to quit.”
King’s jaw clenched. Tate could tell his explanation was only making the hard feelings worse.
“It’s just me today. I’m here with my woman.” He nodded toward Sutton and a slickened-up man sitting in a booth. Sutton’s back was to him, and her boss’s attention was pinned on her.
“Since when do you have a woman?”
“Are we going to stand here all day, shootin’ the shit, or are you going to let me eat lunch?” he asked, not answering the snide question.
King waved his hand toward Sutton’s table, stepping to the side so he could pass.
As Tate casually walked toward her table, her boss’s eyes widened.
When he reached the side of the booth, he gave Sutton a fake smile. “I got tired of waiting in the truck.”
Sutton’s mouth dropped open.
Taking advantage of her surprise, he slid into the booth next to her, forcing her to scoot or get moved over. Wisely, she gave him the room to sit next to her.
“Uh … I thought you had left.”
“Nah, I was hungry.”
Her eyes narrowed on his coming-off-as-a-hick attitude.
“Tate, this is my boss, Liam Allen. Liam, this is Tate Porter, a friend of mine.”
“Boyfriend,” Tate corrected her, taking the menu out of her hand before she decided to use it to hit him.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Liam held out his hand to him. Tate reached out to shake it, the two men sizing each other up. “So, you’re the reason Sutton’s decided to move back to Kentucky?”
Tate placed his arm on the back of the booth, drawing a reluctant Sutton closer. “Good thing. I don’t see me and California as a good match. It’s hot as shit there.”
“You were going to move to California if she didn’t move back?”
“Yes.”
“You were?” The anger in her eyes disappeared at his claim.
“Of course. She’s mine, and I want her to be happy,” Tate said truthfully, frowning when he saw tears brimming in her eyes.
His hand went to the nape of her neck, gently soothing her. She sank against his side and Tate leaned down, brushing his mouth against hers. It was the first public display of affection he had ever given a woman, showing without embarrassment how much he was into her.
“I can see you both are a good match. I’m happy for you, Sutton.” The sincerity in Liam’s voice eased the jealousy in his gut.
There was no comparison between them. Liam was sophisticated, handsome, and charming. Tate knew, side by side, he had the short end of the stick in all three categories.
The waitress took their order, leaving them alone again.
Tate listened silently, letting them talk about her schedule. Sutton would be traveling two or three days a week to nearby cities, allowing her to be home by a reasonable time. She would be driving out of town only two days a month, which would require her to be gone overnight. Tate thought about informing her that she wouldn’t be spending those nights alone—he would be traveling with her—but decided he would let her find that out on her own. He didn’t want her to think he was being pushy. He was; he just didn’t want her to figure it out too soon. She would find that out the day she left for one of those trips.
She had her own surprise in store for him when they parted with her boss in the parking lot.
“I’ll see you next month when I drive out to get my car and pack up my apartment.”
Liam shook his hand after saying good-bye to Sutton.
“Take care of her. I can’t tell you how good it is to see her so happy.”
Damn, Tate hadn’t anticipated liking the man. There were very few men he could actually stand.
Tate made an offer he made to only a few. “Come for a visit some time, and I’ll take you hunting.”
“I might take you up on that. What kind of game do you hunt? Bear?”
“Hell no, they’re mean fuckers. We can hunt for squirrels and possums. I have one that’s getting in our trash. I’m going to kill that little bastard. Might not wait for you to come back to get rid of him.”
Liam burst out laughing. “Don’t wait. I imagine that can be aggravating.”
“It is. Sutton talked me into catching him and setting him free somewhere else, so I took him to The Last Riders’ clubhouse and let him go. Little bastard found his way back a week later, though. Looked half-starved to death. They don’t have good trash …”
Sutton tugged on his arm. “Liam wants to leave. We’re holding him up.”
“Not at all. I’m enjoying this. There’s a motorcycle club here? This town doesn’t seem the place a club like that would make home.”
Tate snorted. “They love it here and have stolen all the good women in town but one.” He jerked his head toward Sutton. “I managed to catch her. I always knew I was smarter than them,” he bragged.
“I’ll let you know when I can take a few days off from work so you can take time off from work—”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m my own boss.”
“Really, what do you do?”
Tate’s eyes narrowed on him. “You a Fed?”
Sutton’s elbow struck him in the ribs. “We need to go. Bye, Liam.” She grabbed Tate’s arm, trying to push him toward his truck.
“I’m a pharmacist and businessman,” Liam continued like Sutton hadn’t said anything. “A federal agent isn’t one of the many jobs I’ve held.”
Tate spat on the ground. “Me, neither.”
Sutton’s face turned red and her eyes promised retribuation.
“So, what is it you do?”
Tate shook off Sutton. The woman was about to rip his arm out of its socket.
“I’m a pharmacist and a businessman, like you. You do your work in an office or a lab; I do mine in a field. I grow medicinal plants.”
The interest in Liam’s eyes deepened. “I’ve never met anyone who actually grows the components of medicine. Which plants do you grow?”
“Weed.”
“Weed?”
“You sure you’re not a Fed?”
“Tate!”
Sutton’s boss burst out laughing. “I’m sure. I’ve even been known to take a hit every now and then.”
Tate sniffed the air. “I’d say a few hours ago.”
Sutton’s hand dropped from his arm. “Liam, please don’t fire me. He’s not my boyfriend. Actually, he’s barely an aquantanice—”
Tate raised his brow at her. “Who was that in my bed last night, then? It sure as hell looked like you when you were—”
“Shut up!” she hissed.
“It’s all right, Sutton,” Liam interrupted the squabbling couple. “I’ll definitely be back in a couple of months. I’ll be interested in trying your product.”
“Don’t you dare ask if he’s a Fed again,” Sutton threatened.
“Wasn’t going to,” Tate said indignately. “You have offices in Colorodo?”
“Actually, yes.”
“I have a couple of plants for you to take. You could pass them off to a cooperative that grows the plants. I have one I developed when a friend of my cousin’s mother was diagnosed with cancer. Seemed to help her out quite a bit before she passed away.”
“I’d be glad to pass them along.”
“Can’t give you more than a couple because they’ll say I’m distributing, but if you give them to a good grower, he’ll know what to do with Kentucky Gold.”
“You named it?” Sutton asked.
Tate almost reminded her that she had wanted him to quit talking, but he didn’t want to
sleep on the couch tonight. His woman had a temper when riled.
“Had to. I developed it. I wasn’t going to have some other fucker naming it something stupid.”
Liam opened his car door, asking, “Why Kentucky Gold?”
“Wait until you try it. Nothing compares. Not even that fake shit the Colemans are selling. I could sell it all day long, but I only grow what I give to the people in town who need it.”
“Why not sell to everyone?”
“Because it would sell so fast I wouldn’t have enough for those who need it. My regular customers act like they’ve got a tick up their ass when I tell them I run out. It’s easier not to let them know what they’re missing out on.”
Liam finally turned to Sutton. “Sutton, I could take a long weekend in a couple of weeks and drive your things up here to you.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose—”
“No imposition. I’ll take a rental car back.”
“If you’re sure …”
“I’m sure. Some friends are worth their weight in gold.” He winked.
* * *
While Sutton remained silent on the drive home, he wondered what he had said or done that had pissed her off the most.
“Did you really mean that you would have moved to California?” Her soft question had him cutting her a quick glance.
“I don’t say shit I don’t mean,” he told her as they got nearer to Rosie’s bar. “Want to stop in and get a beer?”
“I’d like that. I haven’t seen Mick since I’ve been back.”
Tate turned into the parking lot. As usual, there were plenty of bikes parked there, and Greer’s truck was parked in his usual spot. When he spotted the large, black Chevy truck, he almost turned around to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Greer without back-up, even if the stupid fucker was stupid enough to stay with The Last Riders and the Hayeses there.
Parking, he turned off the truck. “Stay by my side. There might be trouble.”
She shocked the shit out of him when she gave him an anticipatory grin. “Really, who with?”
“The Hayeses. Greer won’t pick a fight with The Last Riders. We owe them for fixing me up and Knox not turning me in. The Hayeses are always looking for trouble, and Greer likes to give it to them.”
“Why doesn’t he like the Hayeses? They were always nice to me, even though we only saw them during football and basketball seasons,” she said, sliding out of the truck and slamming the truck door.