Tate doesn’t let me decide as he keeps talking while continuing to rub his hands all over my body.
“When my parents died, we went to live with my grandparents. My grandfather had this café, and it had been in his family for a long time. I worked here as a kid to help out, of course, but it wasn’t in my future plans.” He swallows loudly. “When my grandfather got sick, I took over running the place in his absence. Once he was gone, I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t disrespect him and his wishes like that. Not after everything he had done for us.” He goes silent as he mindlessly continues rubbing his soft hands up and down my back.
“That’s really admirable, Tate. You don’t seem unhappy there.”
“God, no. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy; I love it there. I’m actually in the middle of working on some ideas for the place.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’m planning on extending the café and having a stage for gigs. I’d love to get a regular open mic night happening, as well as showcasing local artists looking for exposure.”
“You don’t really have a night-time crowd,” I mock, remembering all the nights I’ve spent there with the café practically empty.
“I know.” He pinches my ass cheek, causing me to jump. “With all this in my plan, it’s the only reason I’ve kept it open at nights. If not, I would’ve been closing earlier a long time ago.”
“I think it sounds wonderful,” I tell him. “I’m sure it will work out great.”
“I hope so,” he says thoughtfully.
“So,” I tease, “will you be playing there?”
“Ha, I don’t think so. It’s been a long time since I performed.”
“What do you play?”
“Guitar.”
“I’d love to hear you play.”
“Not in public. But maybe one day, I’ll play for you.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” I smile up at him.
He turns me away from him and reaches for the bodywash again, drizzling it all over my breasts and stomach. Running his hands over the front of my body, he works the soap into a lather. Trailing his hands lower, he runs them over my stomach, causing it to tighten.
“Your body is perfect, Harper. I’m going to struggle to keep my hands off you,” he whispers low in my ear.
Goosebumps break out over my skin and my body shivers. Tate’s fingers linger lower until they are tickling the top of my core. Rinsing his hand under the stream of water, he then runs his fingers through my folds.
He circles my clit a couple of times before slipping a finger inside me. His other hand has now worked its way to my breast, and he squeezes it firmly then tickles my nipple with his index finger. I moan as my body relaxes into his, and this only spurs him on more.
He pulls his finger out of me before slipping two inside and burying them to the hilt. Holding them there, he lets me appreciate how full I am before he moves them in and out, his pace going from slow to pounding as my orgasm builds.
I tighten around him, and as I do, he thumbs my clit and sends me off exploding around his fingers. “Fuck,” he breathes into my neck. My body shudders as he continues thrusting his fingers inside me, drawing out the orgasm to mind-blowing lengths.
“Jesus, Harper. Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are when you come? I may be fucking addicted.”
I giggle in my lust haze, feeling limp and drowsy as Tate slides his fingers out of me, and I turn in his arms to rest my face against his chest.
“Come on, Daisy. Let’s get out of here before I fuck you against the wall.”
I raise my head to look at him, my eyebrow rising in thought.
“No.” He chuckles. “I think I’ve worn you out enough already, and I need you conscious when we’re on the bike. You’re already practically falling asleep in my arms.”
Resting my head back against his chest, I nod as I close my eyes. I guess he’s right. I can barely stand. Another orgasm like that and I doubt I’ll have any motor function left.
Tate manages to wash himself with one hand as he holds me with the other. It’s not long and he is turning off the water and walking me out into the bathroom. He wraps a towel around me before wrapping one around himself, and then picks me up and carries me into the bedroom.
He lays me on the bed, and I watch as he moves around the room. He unwraps his towel and uses it to dry himself more thoroughly. My lips part and my breathing speeds up as I stare in fascination. He drops the towel to the floor and grabs some cotton boxer shorts from his top drawer. He pulls them on and my eyes follow them the whole way up his firm legs and over his tight ass. He throws another clean pair in my face and I look up at him.
He is wearing that cocky, arrogant smile which he used to wear all the time when we first met and he was delivering to Argo. “They’re for you, Daisy, if you want something fresh.”
“Thanks.” I smile but make no move to get up. I stay wrapped up in my towel, watching the floor-show being put on in front of me, Tate’s strong arms moving and flexing as he dresses himself, slowly covering each piece of perfection on his body.
“Are you going to get up?” He tries to look foreboding, with his hands on his hips, but he can’t hold the small smile tipping the corners of his mouth.
“I guess I better. Show’s over, anyway.”
Unwrapping myself from the towel, I enjoy Tate’s eyes as they lose focus on my face and travel south. His gaze devours my body and the need builds inside me again. Once his tongue pokes out and runs along his bottom lip, I’m done.
“Can you get out?” I push him towards the door. “I can’t dress with you looking at me like that.”
He smiles, not at all embarrassed. “I’m so glad I had the idea to lock you up here all weekend. Best idea I’ve ever had.”
Rolling my eyes, I try to hide the pure elation that washes over me at his words. I love the way he makes me feel. So cherished, so wanted, but most of all, it feels genuine. I have heard all the sweet words before, seen all the romantic gestures, but in the end, they meant nothing.
For some reason, with Tate they mean more than anything.
God, this girl is going to own me. She already does. Harper is fucking perfection, and I can’t get enough of her. Why someone hasn’t claimed her as theirs, I’ll never know. Not that I mind though. Now I’m getting my shot. I’m getting my shot and I’m not going to screw it up.
Not me. No way. I saw her face when Stacey’s name lit up my phone earlier. Her fears were written all over it. I need to deal with this shit with Stacey, and sooner rather than later.
As I finish running some wax through my hair, Harper enters the bathroom all dressed, and steps up to my back. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she nuzzles her face between my shoulder blades. I love how open and affectionate she is.
She puts herself out there for love and puts it all on the line. She doesn’t wake up and act aloof because she’s worried about what I’m feeling or what I might say, like most women. Not Harper; she is genuine and honest.
It’s yet another reason why she holds my balls in the palm of her hands.
“Ready to go?” I ask her.
“Mmmmm,” she mumbles into my back.
The warmth of her breath hits my skin through my T-shirt, and my body stiffens with the urge to throw her up against the wall and take her. I’ve got to get her the fuck out of here.
“Come on,” I say as I turn to leave, grabbing her hand on the way through and pulling her out.
We head down the stairs to the garage below and I unlock and lift the small roller door. Harper looks at the bike in the confusion.
“How are we picking up my stuff on that thing?” She tilts her head toward the bike.
“You’ll have to pack lightly and then hold the bag between us.”
“What?” she screeches. “Maybe we should take the car.”
“What car? All I have is this bike.” I give her a crooked smile.
“Well, maybe we should catch a taxi. I’m hap
py to pay . . .”
Stepping into her, I lean down, leaving only millimetres between our faces. “It’s not about the money,” I say quietly. “It’s about having your tight little body pressed up against me and your perfect arms wrapped around my waist.”
I step back, and she stares at me. Her eyes are wide, her lips slightly parted.
“Now, like I said. You’ll need to pack light. Shouldn’t be a problem, since I told you earlier you won’t be needing much this weekend.” She blushes and my dick stirs at the sight of it.
Harper nods but doesn’t say anything and I nod back, making my way to the bike and straddling it before I kick-start it. Her senses flip back on, and I laugh as she is on the bike and holding me in three seconds flat.
The ride is quiet and enjoyable without all the weekday traffic. We make it to her apartment in a few minutes, and I suddenly wish she lived further out of the city. Way further out of the city. We’ll have to go on a day ride to the country some day soon. She would love the scenery, and I’d be able to have her holding onto me for hours at a time.
We arrive at Harper’s apartment, and I hold her hand as she steps off the bike. Putting down the kickstand, I throw my leg over and hop off. Harper looks down to my crotch and her eyes widen.
“Sorry.” I grab my hard cock and rearrange myself. “I can’t help it.”
I give her my smug sideways grin, and she rolls her eyes at me.
She leads me into her apartment, and I stop as I step into the main living room.
“This is your place?” I try to hide the disdain in my voice, but when her face drops, I know I’ve done a shitty job at it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like.”
“Yes, you did. Look at your face.”
Fuck! I thought I had schooled it already.
The walls are cracked and I can see water stains on them, indicating there’s a leak somewhere. The carpet is shaggy and brown, a real 70s look. Upon closer inspection, the carpet actually is from the 70s and probably hasn’t been replaced since then.
The furniture is nice enough and the place is clean, but the apartment is very lived-in. Personal items are all strewn about everywhere. Heaps of photos frames are plastered all over the walls and most available spaces. From what I can see, most are of friends, but there is one on the mantle with an older couple standing with their arms around Harper, who I assume are her parents. I wonder if I’ll ever get to meet them. Wonder if I’ll ever match up to their standards.
“I’m sorry, it’s nice,” I try. I wonder how long until I can convince her to come live with me.
“Sure.” She laughs. “It’s a bit of a bomb.”
“Well, I’m sure it works for now,” I tell her. I know my place isn’t a six-bedroom condo but at least it’s safe, mould-free, and has all new renovations. I don’t like the thought of her living like this. Especially alone in this part of the city.
“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “I’ll be right back.”
I nod and take a seat on her couch. Maybe I just won’t let her leave my apartment. I won’t ask or give her reason to leave—I’ll just keep her there. Locked away safe and looked after with me.
Yes, that’s what I’ll do.
Packing my bags, I decide to take everything I can think of. I don’t want to be caught without any necessities.
I grab my soft material duffle bag and begin chucking in everything I can see. Clothes, toiletries, make-up, and accessories are being thrown about the room. I’ll deal with the mess later.
When I finally enter the lounge room, Tate immediately stands and comes to take my bag.
“I said pack lightly.” He raises an eyebrow at me as he takes my bag and holds it up to feel its weight.
Rolling my eyes, I grab my bag and storm to my bedroom. As I’m picking and choosing what I can leave behind, I hear him laughing to himself. Once I’ve made the dreaded cuts, I meet him back in the lounge room and shove my bag at his chest.
He grunts and falls back clutching the bag, but rights himself quickly and gives me his huge cocky grin. I melt at his smile, and shake my head as I lead him to the front door. Why do I let him affect me so easily?
Switching the lights off, I lock up the apartment behind us, not expecting to return for a couple of days. Tate slips onto the bike, still holding my bag, and holds out his hand for me to take to balance myself. I slide on behind him and he passes me my duffle.
“Shove it between us and hold onto me around it,” he instructs.
I do as he says and wrap my arms tightly around his waist, squishing the duffle bag between us. We only ride for a few minutes before Tate pulls up to an old video shop. We push through the old turnstile, and Tate waves to the older gentleman behind the counter.
“Hi, Jack.”
“Hi, Tate. Haven’t seen you for a while. The café been busy?”
“Yeah, flat out. Working on some improvements,” he tells him.
“Good for you.”
“Any good new releases?”
“There are some good ones in the action section for you.”
“Thanks.” He waves again as we head to the back of the store.
“What, you have something against downloading movies?”
“Illegally? Yes.” He chuckles. “Legally, I just don’t have the time.”
Shrugging, I head to the new-release section.
“Besides, there’s nothing better than browsing a video store. Why does technology have to ruin all the good stuff?”
Nodding in agreement, I glance over the titles and see a lot of Captain America, Spider-Man, Musketeers, and Need For Speed. I leave Tate reading some of the synopses as I head to the classics section. It’s full of older movies and some of my favourites.
I pick and collect Empire Records, The Breakfast Club, Scream, and Fight Club. Because let’s face it, who doesn’t like a shirtless Brad Pitt?
Making my way back to Tate, who has also filled his arms, he raises an eyebrow.
“What have we got?” He grabs my pile of DVDs and throws his into my hands.
The Godfather, Die Hard 4, and Transformers. What a typical man. Looking up, Tate’s face is screwed up in distaste, too.
“What? I thought I did a good job. I didn’t pick any mushy romance ones.”
“I guess that’s a positive,” Tate says blandly, not taking his eyes off the pile of DVDs.
“Well, what about you and Transformers and Die Hard. What are we going to do after, try and bench press each other?”
Tate’s eyes light up and I shake my head. “Oh my God,” I say, appalled at his one-track mind.
“God, Daisy. I think I more than proved last night that I can lift your weight.” He smirks. “I’d be more than happy to try and bench press you . . . naked. But I’m not sure I’ll last the whole movie before I do.”
Before I can tell him what an egotistical ass he is, Tate’s mouth is on mine and his tongue is running along my bottom lip, begging for entry. Of course I let him, because apparently, I have no brain function or scruples when he is around and trying to seduce me.
Someone clears his throat in the aisle behind us. “No wonder I haven’t seen you here in a while.”
Tate and I pull apart, and Jack is smirking at us from the comedy aisle.
“Sorry, Jack, this is my Daisy,” Tate says as he wraps his arm tightly around my waist.
Jack raises his eyebrow. “Daisy?”
“Hi, Jack; it’s actually Harper. So nice to meet you.” I offer my hand over the top of the DVD shelving.
Jack takes it and gives it a shake. “It’s nice to see someone forcing Tate to watch movies out of his regular genre.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’m glad to. I think that decides it, then.” I grab my pile of DVDs out of Tate’s hands and pass them over to Jack. “We’ll take these, please.”
Handing Tate back his pile, I instruct him to go put them back as I follow Jack towards the front counter. Grabbing some Lolly Gobble Bliss Bombs popcorn and some chocolat
e on the way, I toss them onto the counter, too.
Jack scans the items and puts the DVDs into the cases as Tate steps up behind me. He stands right up against my back, barely leaving a breath of space between us. He reaches around me to place some potato chips and jelly snakes on the counter, also.
My body shudders as he wraps an arm around the front of my waist and splays his hand across my stomach and then pulls me back into him, holding me tight.
We watch and wait for Jack to finish processing our order, and Tate leans down and kisses a small spot of skin on my shoulder, causing me to shiver.
He chuckles under his breath as he does it again further up my neck. Reaching my hand around, I cup his semi-hard cock. He gasps in my ear and then kisses under my neck. Instead of caressing him, I grab him tightly and squeeze . . . hard.
“Harper,” Tate yells as he jumps away from me.
“Everything all right?” Jack asks, turning around to look at us.
“Everything’s fine.” I smile. I turn to look at Tate and he is staring at me, wide eyes horrified. “Don’t mess with me, Washington,” I whisper. “I’m not as easily seduced as you seem to think.”
Tate throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Jesus, Daisy, you keep me on my toes.”
I smile arrogantly before turning my back on him and focusing on Jack once again. It’s not long before Tate has me wrapped up in both his arms again and leans down to whisper in my ear.
“You’ll pay for that.” His voice is full of desire and lust and my lower belly tingles with anticipation.
“I’ll make it up to you.” My voice shakes.
“Okay, that’ll be twenty-nine dollars,” Jack interrupts.
Tate releases his hold on me, standing next to me instead, and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket to pay. I grab the pile of DVDs and snacks as Tate places his money and wallet back away.
We say goodbye to Jack as we exit the video store, and Tate wraps an arm around my shoulder.
“Let’s go home.”
There it is again. That word. Home.
Once we are back at Tate’s apartment, we move around seamlessly together. Tate makes drinks as I set up all our snacks. We carry everything over to the coffee table and I set it out in front of us.
Whatever You Do Page 14