Keeping What's His(30)

“A Porter doesn’t run.”

“Greer did,” she reminded him.

“We think he was adopted.”

Sutton couldn’t help falling onto the bed, laughing. “What about the red hair?”

“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.”