“I’m a mess,” I whisper and shake my head.
“You’re my beautiful mess.” He kisses me, long and deep, and I’m fighting to catch a breath when he finally pulls away. “We’ll work through them, together. You got me?” He raises expecting eyebrows.
“I got you,” I whisper before leaning back in and continuing the ferocious kiss he started.
A throat clears behind us and we turn to see a woman scowling.
“Is that your neighbour?” Tate asks with a cheeky smile.
“I have no idea.” I frown. Shouldn’t I know my neighbours? The woman stalks off as she huffs in annoyance.
“Who cares? They’re not your neighbours anymore.”
“They’re not?” I ask, unsure if he would still want to make such a huge commitment to such a loose nut like me.
“Let’s go home, baby.” He smiles, kisses me, and turns to make his way out the apartment building, carrying me the whole way. “By the way, we have a guest staying with us for a while. I’ll explain later.”
“No need. We’ve already met and sorted the living arrangements.”
Tate frowns at me. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. If you’re good to us, maybe we’ll let you stay.”
“Is that so?”
I nod and smile but I can see the light in his eyes at the prospect that Lana and I have not only already met but seem to be getting along. I have no doubt as to how important it is to him.
“Come on, Daisy.” Tate sets me on his bike and then slides on in front of me. Grabbing my helmet off the handlebars, he holds it out and gives me a quick kiss before sliding it over my head.
“You brought it with you?” I whisper, surprised.
“Let’s just say I was confident you would be leaving with me.” He gives me a cocky grin and I can’t help but return it.
Eagerly, I wrap my arms around him as he kick-starts the bike, squeezing my leg before he pulls away from the kerb and heads for home. Our home.
The ride back to our apartment . . . our apartment. Fuck, I love how it sounds. The ride back goes quickly as I enjoy Harper’s hold on me; her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, her face nuzzled between my shoulder blades.
As I pull into my small garage, I think about the week I’ve had. The shitty week I’ll be glad to forget real soon. And I plan on forgetting it by dragging Harper to our new bedroom and losing myself in her for the rest of the weekend.
“I didn’t know if I’d ever be bringing you back here again,” I say after I shut off the bike and am pulling off my helmet.
Harper removes her helmet with one hand and drops it to the floor before tightening her arms around me. She snuggles into me and peppers kisses all over my back. Placing my arms over hers, I return her squeeze.
We sit in silence, holding each other. The content atmosphere which surrounds us is satisfying, and I’m relaxed and at ease.
Harper soon brings my thoughts back as her hands slowly slide down my body. They venture all across my hard stomach, which tenses under her touch, before they lower to my jeans.
I gasp as her small hand covers my hard cock, which is struggling to stay contained in my jeans. Luckily it doesn’t stay there long as Harper skilfully undoes my pants before she slides her hand inside, quickly slipping beneath my boxers and causing me to groan.
My head rolls back onto hers, which is still pressed up against my back as she slides her hand up and down my shaft. She holds me tightly and I grip her thighs, looking for something to grab onto.
Her speed picks up, and it’s not long before she has me sitting on the edge. “Fuck,” I breathe. “Harder, baby.” She squeezes me tighter, her movements becoming more uncontrolled. “That’s it . . . yes . . . oh, fuck.”
The familiar sparks build in my lower back as my thighs tense. Fuck, I hope I don’t drop the bike, my legs being the only thing keeping us upright and balanced.
The overwhelming sensation becomes too much and I wrap my fingers around hers, taking over her movements. Her soft hand slips inside my T-shirt and runs up the length of my torso. She reaches my chest and tickles my nipple underneath her fingers before she pinches it hard.
I growl, and the second time she does it, it sends me off. Using her hand to pull myself harder, I come all over our joined fingers.
“Wow,” Harper whispers, nuzzling into my back and dropping kisses over it. “That was . . . hot.”
I turn to her and smile warmly. She smirks before bringing her hand to her mouth and licking her fingers clean.
“Fuck, Daisy.” I groan, grabbing her by the waist and dragging her onto my lap so she is straddling me. I kiss her hard and she responds instantly, our tongues duelling fiercely. Our passion and need ignite, and we are pulling at each other’s hair and clothes, trying to get closer with every move we make.
“Baby, I need to get you upstairs and bury myself balls deep in you.” Harper giggles into my neck as she places small kisses under my ear. “Seriously, we’re not coming up for air until we’ve made up for this week and I’ve got you good and fucked.”
“Tate,” she admonishes my dirty words.
“Don’t go shy on me now, Daisy. I believe you were the one who started that little exhibition.”
“No one could see,” she defends.
“Well, you better get inside before I bend you over my bike and put on a show.”
Harper hops off my lap, and I follow her off the bike, quickly picking up our helmets and placing them on the handlebars before I take her hand and drag her out of the garage. She can’t keep up with me so I pick her up, throwing her off for a second before she wraps her legs around my waist.
We go up the stairs like this and struggle as I go to unlock the door while still holding her; we’re now making out like two horny teenagers.
“Well, welcome home, you two.”
I pull my mouth away from Harper’s, and my sister leans on the back of the couch, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
“Oh great, you’re here,” I say flatly, clearly not impressed Lana is about to put a hold on my catch up time with Harper. How did I forget she would be here? Oh, that’s right—Harper had her hand wrapped around my cock.
“Tate,” Harper reprimands me, slapping me on my chest.
I reach into my pocket, keeping one hand under Harper’s ass, and pull out a fifty-dollar bill. “Here, go find something to do.” Throwing the money at my sister, I pass the couch and head to my bedroom.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Go to a movie,” I call over my shoulder.
“It’s going to be long few months,” she mumbles as I kick shut my bedroom door behind me.
Throwing Harper into the middle of the bed, I don’t waste any time in removing all of her clothes and throwing them across the room before I strip my own off. I crawl up to rest between her legs and kiss her longingly and slow, relishing in having her here—in our apartment, in our bed, and I don’t want to waste a second not being inside her.
Sliding up against her, I place my cock at her entrance and push straight in. With how wet she is, there is no resistance from her body at all as her pussy clamps around me.
“God, Daisy,” I moan. “I love how wet you always are for me.”
Harper whimpers and I pull right back before sliding the tip of my cock in and out of her. She moans in frustration and I match her as I test my own control, wanting to thrust right in but also wanting to be able to last.
“Stop teasing me,” she breathes, and I lose all control, slamming inside her in one hard thrust.
I take my time. I control my movements, my thrusts slow and hard. And I show her exactly what it means to me to have her here. To have her in my life, and have her be totally mine. My light of sunshine; my ray of happiness. My Daisy.
Three months later
Leaning back on the café counter, I glance around at the newly refurbished café. A stage has been set against the back wall of the extended room. There are house instruments, which a
lways sit up there, and a band who is currently setting up their own equipment.
The house lights are low and the atmosphere is so different to the daytime business crowd. Tate has announced music nights on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights. He has acquired a liquor license and the proper permits to stay open late. The café has open mic nights on a Friday night, Saturday nights are saved for the bands who Tate has checked out and booked gigs with, and Sunday night is a more mellow night with guitar and solo artists. Tonight, being opening night, Tate is giving the customers a taste of everything.
He has been working his ass off for the past three months especially to make tonight happen. And I have been right by his side. Okay, so I couldn’t help too much with actually doing anything, but I’ve tried to be his support. You know, behind every good man, and all that.
I watch as he runs around dealing with staff, musicians, and customers. He looks so calm and in control, not to mention totally hot in his black slacks and black shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off only some of his tattoos, but enough to make me want to rip his shirt off and find the rest even though I know them by heart now. I have spent the last three months burning them into my memory as I have consumed hours exploring them.
There’s a light tap on my shoulder and I turn to see the new bartender, Jared, gesture to the drinks I ordered. I laugh at my distraction and the fact I’m already letting Tate down with the one job I had to do tonight. Look after our guests.
It’s not a hard task, considering we don’t have many, with Tate having no family and mine not being around, but still I am slacking.
Picking up half the drinks, I resign myself to the fact I’ll have to make two trips, and turn to make my way to the table. I stop in my tracks by Maurice’s approach.
“Let me get the others,” he says, reaching around me to pick up the remaining drinks.
I smile up at the man who has quickly become a father figure to me. Things between my dad and me are better than they’ve ever been, and it seems we may have come to a mutual understanding to accept each other as we are. He’ll always have his beliefs in the way things should be done, and I’ll always do whatever makes me happy. Luckily, we can both agree we want me happy, and we both think Tate is the man for the job.
Maurice follows me to the small table we have grabbed, and we place the drinks down in front of Brooke, Saxon, and Lana.
“When are you going to get up and sing, doll?” Maurice asks Lana as he sits down next to her and places his arm around her.
“I don’t think so,” she scoffs, laying her head on Maurice’s shoulder. I knew Tate and Maurice were close, but I didn’t realise how much he had been a part of their lives until I saw Lana with him. Maurice has taken the two of them on as his own, and I have been blessed to be invited into the fold.
“Do you sing, Lana?” Brooke asks excitedly.
“No,” Lana blurts out at the same time as Maurice says, “Yes.”
“She sings like an angel,” Maurice tells Brooke as Lana rolls her eyes.
“Aren’t we doing girls’ night next Friday?” Brooke winks at me.
“Karaoke, it is.” I smile at Lana.
“Leave her alone,” Saxon says. “Anyway, with her singing—” he gestures to Brooke “—there’s no way you could possibly embarrass yourself.”
“Hey.” Brooke pouts at him.
I smile at the banter between the little group we have formed. With most of us not having siblings, being without parents, or not having the best relationship with our folks, we have come to rely on each other. Tate’s little family and my own have merged so well, and it’s now the going joke about our own Brady Bunch.
A warm pair of hands grips my shoulders before massaging them gently. I know those hands all too well and can’t wait until the night is over and I can have them all over me.
“You okay, baby?” I look up at Tate.
He squeezes my shoulder and gives me a tight smile.
“You all right, buddy? You’re looking a little pale,” Saxon teases him, but I narrow my eyes on Tate’s face and notice he is, in fact, looking a little green.
“Fuck off,” Tate tells Saxon as he gives him the bird.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Maurice interrupts. “We are in the presence of ladies.”
“Where?” Saxon looks around the café.
“Funny,” Brooke says sarcastically. “No, really, that’s a good one.” Saxon laughs at her and leans over to place a light kiss on her lips as he wraps an arm around her and pulls her into him.
I don’t feel anything but happiness now when I see their obvious love and connection. I have it. I have finally found the one person who makes me feel whole. I had to kiss a lot of frogs, but I have finally found my prince.
Placing my hand over Tate’s, which is still resting on my shoulder, I intertwine my fingers with his. Bringing our hands to my mouth, I kiss the back of his and lean my face against it. Tate mindlessly reciprocates by rubbing his thumb up and down my cheek while chatting with the group.
I didn’t see Tate much after that, as he was so busy being called here, there, and everywhere. We’ve had a few beers and wine and gotten louder and more excited as the night’s gone on. The final band have just said their goodbyes and Tate takes to the small stage to wrap up the night with a lovely thank-you speech I helped him write.
“Everybody, will you put your hands together for Sublime,” Tate announces excitedly to the packed café. “Before we shut off for the night, I have one last little surprise.” I narrow my eyes, not having heard anything about this before.
“A few months ago, I met the girl of my dreams.” My eyes widen as Tate’s gaze lands on mine. “We had a lot of shit to work out, and it hasn’t been easy, but we did it.” Tate smiles warmly at me and I give him a wide smile, even though I’m not sure what he’s up to.
“Daisy, I promised you one day I would play and sing for you. Well, I’ve been working on a little something and this is for you.” Someone carries over a guitar and hands it to Tate. He slips the strap over his head as someone else carries a stool over for him.
When I glance at our friends sitting at the table, they all have different looks on their faces, but the one expression none of them has is surprise. They all knew Tate was going to do this.
He settles himself on the stool and lightly strums the guitar. The notes hit me head-on, and my smile fades as I watch in rapt attention. Tate sings into the microphone, his eyes never leaving mine. His raspy voice booms through the restaurant, and it’s as though no one else is there.
Tate is wildly talented. Not that I ever thought he wasn’t but sitting here, watching and listening to him, is a different thing. His eyes have never once left mine and it’s as though he’s singing only to me. As if it’s just the two of us, upstairs in our apartment, locked in our bedroom. This feels intimate somehow, even though there are probably a hundred or so people watching.
Tate strums the final chords on his guitar, and the audience goes wild. He waves his hand, gesturing for me to join him on the stage. I don’t think as I stand, and my legs carry me to him. Tate rises to his feet as I approach and I find myself standing in front of him, a feeling of pride inside me, and a look of awe on my face.
Tate takes my face in his hands, and brushes away my tears with his thumbs. Tears I didn’t even realise I was crying. He holds my face only inches from his own as he stares into my eyes.
“Daisy, I love you. I never expected to find happiness like this, and then you strolled into my café and knocked me on my ass.” I smile sheepishly at him. “You are my sunshine and I don’t ever want to wake to a dark day again.” He pauses and swallows roughly. “Will you give me the final piece of you and become my wife?”
My tears are flowing freely now and I’m well aware of them. “Yes,” I whisper hoarsely through the lump in my throat.
Tate smiles widely and then kisses me. It’s quick, yet hard and fierce, and I feel everything he can’t say wit
h words. Tate reaches into his pocket and pulls out a vintage engagement ring. Smiling up at me from under his lashes, he slips it onto my ring finger. I grin up at him, unable to hide my happiness at the prospect of me and him forever, and I smack a loud kiss on his lips.
The crowd goes wild, and I’m brought back to the fact we are not alone. Tate pulls me against him and hugs me tightly. I glance to our table and see our friends in celebration mode. Lana has tears running down her cheeks as Maurice hugs her with a proud smile on his face. Brooke is dabbing at her eyes as Saxon gives Tate a nod and me a small cheeky smirk.
“You really want to marry me? I carry a mixed-up bag of issues, you know.” Pulling back, I look up at him and raise my eyebrows.
Tate chuckles. “Daisy, I will always want you.”
“What if I go crazy again?” I smile teasingly.
Tate pulls me even tighter against him. “Daisy, whatever you do, I’ll always love you. Crazy bag of issues and all.” He leans down and meets my mouth firmly, taking my lips with his in a loving and contented kiss.
He pulls back, and I smile hugely up at him. I don’t see anything other than the man standing in front of me. The man I have given my all to. Not just my whole heart, but my body, my soul, and my trust. I have handed him everything on a platter, and I know he is going to care for it better than I ever could.
Tate’s right—whatever happens, whatever we do, none of it matters. This is it; this is real. I have searched from far and wide and have finally found my one. The one.
The End
Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed Harper and Tate’s story. It would be so greatly appreciated if you could spare a minute to leave a review, good or bad, on the purchasing site.
Thank you, Steph xo
Coming Soon – How My Heart Breaks
Book 3 in the Try Again Series
Lana and Jake’s Story
I’m going to try and keep it short and sweet this time.
Whatever You Do Page 25