Page 85 of The Situation
“When are you going to stop this and just admit it?”
I hesitate, giving myself a moment to change my mind. This is against the rules I set up for myself months ago.But am I even the same woman I was then?
Tate slides his hands beneath my dress and palms my ass cheeks.
I’m definitely not her.
“When am I going to admit it?” I ask, smiling smugly at him. “Right. About. Now.”
“It’s about fucking time.”
I lift onto my toes, and he meets me in the middle. His tongue sweeps past my lips like it owns them.
I moan, sagging into him, afraid of what’ll happen when he stops.
“God, I missed this,” he says, pressing kisses along my jaw and down into the crook of my neck.
“You have no idea.” I palm his cock through his pants. He flexes against my hand, emitting a growl that needles my libido. “Or, maybe you do.”
His hands travel around the curves of my hips, around my waist, and then slide back to the globes of my ass again. His touch erases all sense from my brain. He now controls my body. I’m officially his, and it’s pointless to say otherwise.
“This ass is unbelievable,” he says, kissing me again.
My nails dig into his back. “I was coming in here to call you.”
“Liar.”
“I mean it,” I say, bending my head to give him access to my neck. With every lick, kiss, and suck, a band inside me is stretched thinner.
“What were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask you to meet me.”
He balls my dress at my waist. “For what?”
He pulls back and looks me in the eye. The intensity makes me shiver.
“I was going to tell you I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For not being honest.”
His eyes narrow. “Have you been lying to me?”
I push forward, grazing his groin with my body. His jaw pulses, but he doesn’t look away.
“Every time I’ve said I’m not already yours was a lie,” I say.
He lifts me off my feet and sets me on the counter in one fluid motion. His lips find mine. Gone are the kisses born from a need to get off. These are different. These are conversation.
My lip is pulled between his teeth, and the friction makes me moan. His hand slips between my thighs.
I spread my legs for him. The back of my head rests against the mirror behind me.
“Let’s see if you’re wet,” he whispers against my mouth.
“If you touch me, you better be ready to make me come.”
