Tainted Gold: Providence Gold Series Book Three

by Moore, Mary B.

  I knew that I needed to tell her how I felt. So, as I slowly pushed into her, gaining more ground than before, I braced myself with both hands in the mattress either side of her – which angled her hips upward making my next retreat and push even better – and leaned down so that our faces were only an inch apart. “Lily,” I rasped, my voice sounding like I was the lead singer in a heavy rock band with how gravelly it sounded. “It might not have been romantic, but I meant what I sent you last night.”

  I’d remembered something earlier. A grand tequila inspired plan to text her how I felt. I couldn’t remember what she’d replied, but now that I had her here, I wanted to actually say it so she could hear the words.

  “Tate,” she groaned, arching her back slightly. “I don’t care if you touch your wiener, just use it on me already!”

  Shaking my head, I started to speed up. “No, not that one.”

  I almost forgot what we were talking about as she dug her nails into my back, using them to pull me into her harder. “Our baby won’t look like an Avatar.”

  What the shit was she talking about?

  “I don’t care about that,” I growled on a hard thrust that had both of us gasping. “I meant it when I said I was in love with you.”

  Hours later, I’d realize that I’d chosen the most unromantic time to tell her. I’d also realize that she hadn’t heard a word of it because she was too busy crying out again, her pussy squeezing my dick to the point of pain.

  I’d also discover that I hadn’t sent her the text messages I’d thought I was sending. In fact, I’d sent them to the last person I’d want to send them to, including an in-depth description of what my cock wanted to do to her vagina.

  At that moment though, none of that mattered. All that did was the tingling in my spine that changed into a feeling like an electric shock teamed with euphoria as my own climax hit and I started to come inside her. It hit me hard and left me feeling so drained that I only just caught myself when I lost the feeling in my arms.

  Panting into her neck, my release starting to escape around where we were still joined, I took a deep breath in and couldn’t stop my hips from moving again when her scent hit me.

  I had my own brand of Viagra, and I had a lot of time to make up for.

  Twelve

  Lily

  We’d been in bed for a full twenty-four hours. Dad had announced last week that he was coming back to work regardless, so I’d taken last night off.

  Mom had taken time off from the movie she was working on after she’d been unable to concentrate on it because she was worried about him. That meant she was now spending time helping Dad get back to full health, and although he missed her when she was away she was a fusser who clucked over him like a mother hen, so getting his freedom back was heaven.

  It was the first night in a long time I’d had off, and sure I felt guilty about it, but he’d sounded so excited and relieved when I’d called to tell him, that I ignored the guilt and focus on the bliss.

  Now that we’d spent time getting to know each other in the sex sense, we were lying in bed surrounded by the leftovers from our picnic in bed.

  I was just closing up a bag of chips when Tate groaned and rubbed his face with both hands, stopping me mid twist.

  “What’s up?”

  Lowering his hands slowly, he avoided eye contact with me and focused instead on the sheet covering his lap. Granted, it was a nice sheet, one that his mom had picked apparently, but I wasn’t sure it deserved the concentration he was giving it.

  Finally, he answered. “It’s just… I’m going to sound like a big pussy saying this,” he muttered, getting out of bed and sauntering over to the door to let Chewy and Ozzy in.

  I’d given up hope of Chewy being called Foxy Cleopatra by anyone but me, so I’d grudgingly admitted that his real name was Chew Barka, aka Chewy, this morning when Tate heard me calling him Foxy and laid it all out for me. Admittedly, it didn’t really suit him, but it had become a matter of principle getting people to call him that – one I’d lost. So, Chewy it was.

  Tate had pulled on a pair of jockey shorts when he’d gone to get the food from the kitchen earlier, leaving me his t-shirt to pull on, which meant that I was sitting without panties watching his ass and crotch as they swayed past me. I dared any woman to not stare! It was impossible.

  Once he was behind me at the door though, I shook off the penis hypnosis and regain full function of my brain – ish.

  “What’s going to make you sound like a big pussy?” I asked, confused not just because of the hypnotizing skills his cock had, but because I was pretty certain a man like Tate Townsend could get away with saying almost anything without sounding like a pussy. Maybe a manly pussy, yeah, but a pussy-pussy? Nope!

  When he didn’t answer, I turned around and saw him holding Chewy while Ozzy sniffed around his feet, wagging her tail. The funny thing was – Chewy wasn’t that much smaller than Ozzy was, even at this age. Then again, I’d seen Tate holding Ozzy like she was a little puppy too on many occasions. Let me tell you, when your man can carry a grown Labrador on her back like a baby, you don’t question his masculinity. You might question his ability to carry you when you’re five hundred pounds heavier because of the baby killer whale in your belly, but his manliness? Never.

  Watching him, I realized that it wasn’t just seeing a hot man holding a baby that would drive women crazy. So, I did what any sane person would do and lunged for my phone, unlocking it and taking a photo of him before he could move.

  Pulling his head out of Chewy’s neck, he looked over his head at me. “Did you just take a picture?”

  “Yeup!” I nodded, saving it to my wallpaper and the lock screen on my phone, and grinning at the image of him holding one dog while the other sat at his feet looking up at him.

  “But… why?”

  “Because I wanted to,” I told him, dropping my phone as Ozzy jumped up beside me. She wasn’t overweight, but she was a big girl, so it shook the whole thing making me laugh when my boobs jiggled.

  When he didn’t say anything else, I turned and saw him watching the jiggling area with a gleam in his eyes.

  “Oh, hell no! Not again. And don’t look at me like that when the babies are in the room, it’s indecent.”

  There was no mistaking that look, I’d seen it way too many times in the last day. It was fair to say that blue would never be a problem again for either of us. Red maybe, but blue never.

  “I can always call Levi to come and take them,” he muttered, his eyes searching for his phone already. When he didn’t see it, he walked over to mine and picked it up, pausing when the screen turned on and he saw the photo I’d just saved on it.

  Moving so that I was on my knees, I tried to balance to take the phone back so he couldn’t call his brother – who would totally realize why he was being passed the baby-sitting duties. But Tate was a tall bastard and just held it over his head, not looking away from the screen. He suddenly turned and walked away from me, pointing out of the room, then closed the door behind the dogs who took the hint, and walked back to me without saying a word.

  “Give it back,” I hissed, making another grab once he was back beside me, regardless of the fact that I fell short from even getting close to it by about three feet. “Tate, seriously. He’ll never let us forget it. And you don’t want the dogs starting to prefer spending time at Uncle Levi’s house.”

  Instead of replying, he reached the hand not holding the phone toward me, and pulled me into his side so that I was face to face with the signatures of his family on his ribs. I loved that tattoo and wanted to get something like it done once I had the baby too. “What does this mean?” he rasped, looking up at the screen and then back down at me.

  That’s when I realized that the photo and its place on my phone meant something to him – something huge. It meant something to me too, but I wasn’t sure if now was the right time to say it.

  Then again, with the look on his face and the way his eyes w
ere shining, maybe it was?

  “That I love the photo?” When he just shook his head, I tried again. “That I love the way you are with them?” Another shake. “That I wanted to be able to see you and the dogs whenever I looked at my phone?” It was really hitting close to the truth, and he knew it.

  Gently, he lowered me onto my back on the mattress and leaned over me. “Why?” he breathed against my lips.

  The world faded away to this one moment between us, and I braced as I answered his question. “Because I love you.”

  I’d expected him to jump back and run, maybe even say thank you. Instead, he pushed again. “Why do you love me?” he asked as he ran the tip of his nose down the side of my neck slowly. His question stung slightly, and I was trying to figure out how to answer it without letting on how hurt I was when he brought his mouth up next to my ear and whispered, “I know why I love you, but I don’t know how you could love me back.”

  There was so much in that one sentence that I didn’t even know where to start. My initial reaction was shock that he loved me, which quickly morphed into happiness and relief. Then the final part hit me, and I felt confused. How could he not understand how someone could love him? Yet, there he was looking somewhat vulnerable as he looked down at me.

  “Tate, you’re the most loveable man I’ve ever met in my life,” I whispered back to him, watching the thumb that I was now moving down the side of his face and onto his beard. “You love with your whole heart, and people see that and love you back. You’re loyal, generous, supportive, you treat me like I’m your whole world…”

  “Because you are,” he rasped, leaning into me and giving me a light kiss on the lips.

  “And you’re going to be the best father in the world when our baby comes,” I finished, not forgetting to add that regardless of how awesome the kiss was. “You’re the best man I know, Tate Townsend, and you make every day better than the one before it for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life,” I finished, watching as his pupils dilated and his mouth split into a grin.

  “I thought you were ignoring the texts I sent you,” he told me, confusing me. “When I said it again last night, you didn’t say anything then either, and I thought you didn’t feel the same way.”

  “What texts? The only ones I got were about blue balls, our baby being an Avatar, and your fantastic attempt at romantic poetry.” I wouldn’t say it out loud, but I was totally getting that poem put on a mug, a t-shirt, a tank, a bag, probably a key chain, and maybe even engraved on a piece of jewelry that I’d never take off.

  “The texts I sent you that…” he broke off when I accidentally flicked his lip with my tongue when I licked my own. He looked torn for a second, and then groaned, “Fuck it!”

  Swooping down, he kissed me, going straight from the initial lip touch, into a deep consuming lip lock, and adjusted his position on top of me so that we were pressed up against each other – chest to chest, crotch to crotch.

  I didn’t have a lot of experience, but I was fairly certain that your vagina wasn’t meant to turn into a screaming slut within seconds of kissing someone, yet mine did every freaking time. If I couldn’t feel how hard he was too, I’d be embarrassed by her.

  Bending my legs at the knees and bracing my feet flat on the mattress, I pressed them down hard so that I could lift my hips up and grind us together where I needed him most – sweet shit, did I need him there. Given how many times we’d done this over the last day, I would have thought I’d be done and recovering for a while, but instead it felt like I hadn’t ever had him. As I ground up into him, the hem on the t-shirt I was wearing lifted, leaving me bare against his cock, the fabric of his boxers the only thing separating us.

  Why had I thought they were so awesome minutes ago? They were evil, ugly, hideous… and keeping me from his dick.

  Almost like he felt the same way, he reached down and pulled the waistband down, freeing his erection so it was resting against me. Every time I ground up into him, he’d shift so that it was rubbing up and down my wet center, bumping my clit at the same time. Moving my pelvis slightly meant that when his length next moved it ended up resting more in the small space between my lips, making me groan into his mouth. What started off as a low moan grew when he caught my leg behind my knee and shifted it so that it was now over his hip.

  “I’m not sure we’re ever gonna be able to leave this bed,” he rasped into my mouth.

  “How is this a problem?”

  Reaching for the hem of the t-shirt, he tugged it up, meaning I had to do a partial ab curl (totally not as sexy as his with my mini bump) so that he could pull it over my head. “It isn’t,” he muttered as he swooped in and flicked his tongue over my nipple. “Jesus, are these getting bigger?”

  Here’s the thing, I wasn’t flat chested, nor was I huge, but I definitely had an ample cup size. When they’d started growing at age eleven, I was so embarrassed being the only girl in my grade wearing a B cup bra. Throughout my diving years, they’d been a pain in the ass because you couldn’t miss them and guys had come to our competitions just to see them. Yeah, I knew that for sure. When someone texts you to tell you how great your tits looked, or holds up a sign with ‘Those tits make a splash!’, you can’t miss it.

  Basically, I had been surrounded by asses at school, and it had made me self-conscious. Obviously, when you hit a certain age, you lose that and learn to appreciate what the good Lord above gave you, but there were still times when it would strike again. If you’d asked me a year ago if this would have been one of those times, I’d have said yes. Instead, it just made me want him even more. They weren’t words filled with hearts and flowers, but the tone he’d said them in was almost reverential.

  To the men of the world, that tone makes a difference, which was why I did what I did next.

  Grabbing a handful of his hair, I pulled his mouth back up to mine, and kissed him at the same time as reaching down between us and wrapping my hand around his cock. With a firm grip, I moved my fist up and down, sweeping my thumb over the band of skin that joined the head to his shaft. With each pass over it, his body would shudder and more wetness would escape from the tip helping my thumb sweeps.

  I wasn’t sure I could form a sentence he’d be able to understand, so I kept it to four words. “I need you now.”

  Lifting up and away from me slightly, he looked into my eyes, and then looked down so that he could see what my hand was still doing between us as it moved up and down.

  “Squeeze it a bit tighter, baby,” he growled, and then moaned when I did just that. “Seeing your little hand around me, feeling how firmly you’re gripping my cock and the movement…” he broke off and tilted his head back so we were eye-to-eye again as he bit into his bottom lip. Releasing it, he shook his head and shuddered. “There’s nothing like it. It feels like I’m going to come, and then I think of your pretty little pussy,” he reached down and skimmed his middle finger between my lips, moving back up again to circle my clit, “and how tight it is. No way am I not coming inside you,” he said, twisting his hand slightly, and plunging the finger deep inside me.

  “Can we please get to that then,” I begged, my hips moving more urgently now.

  It felt like I was going to explode if we didn’t do it. There would be pieces of me all over the room, and all that would be left on the bed was my vagina probably be yelling ‘told you I was horny’.

  Expecting him to be in agreement with that, I let go of my grip around his cock, and moved the hand so it was gripping a handful of his solid ass cheek. Seriously, it was rock hard. In fact, all of him was rock hard. It was almost intimidating looking at the bumps on his torso and that v just over his pelvis which pointed right to the other rock hard part of him I desperately wanted inside of me. When he didn’t move, I dug my nails into his ass, wincing when I felt two of them bend.

  “Not yet,” he warned, moving so he was balanced on one arm over me. “Patience.”

  Lifting his free hand, he tr
ailed it from my collarbone, down over my chest, and stopped to circle a nipple. When it tightened into a hard bud, he brought his thumb into the mix and gently squeezed it between the digits. Here’s something every pregnant woman will know, in fact even if you’re due on your period you’ll know this – your nipples and boobs get very sensitive. A change in temperature, something rubbing over them, reading a book with hot sexy times in it, a really hot guy with a hard cock squeezing them – it drives you out of your ever-loving mind.

  “Like that?”

  “What do you think?” I gasped as he did it again.

  With a small smile, he lowered down and gently sucked the opposite nipple into his mouth. While I was distracted by his tongue flicking it and his teeth gently nibbling it, he lowered the hand that had been playing with the other nipple down my body. The only time I reacted was when he skimmed over my ticklish spot beside my belly button – that’s how good he was with his mouth on just a nipple. That’s also how sensitive mine were now.

  “Patience,” he warned when I cried out on a slightly harder suck and jerked my hips up against him.

  People extol the virtues of patience, and on the whole I’m in agreement with it. It’s handy, it’s rational, it keeps everything under control, it’s just the best approach in situations. However, when you’re lying underneath the man you love, who makes you want to come just by looking at him, patience is fucking frustrating. If it was possible to actually do that, I’d be a happy woman. Instead, a vast majority of women need something else to push them over the orgasm line, myself included.

  And when that man was blessed with fingers by Satan himself, it was even more frustrating.

  Gently pushing two fingers into me, he slowly moved them in and out, bending them so that they rubbed against my walls with each motion. Every so often he’d stop and rub them against that spot that drove me out of my mind, varying the pressure of each rotation so that I never knew what to expect next. Just as I’d start to feel that electric tension that signaled I was about to come, he’d stop and go back to the slow ins and outs. At the same time, his thumb would circle around my clit, stopping to rub on the spot he’d found yesterday which was my hot spot. It was torture!