“I’m shitting my pants,” Holt mocked.
Tate waited until Greer found Diane so they could leave together. Diane got behind the wheel of Greer’s truck after he climbed in.
His brother hung out the window as he said, “We whipped their asses.”
“Drive him into town with you, Diane, and keep him overnight. He’ll wake Logan up going into the house.”
She gave him a seductive smile. “You two want to come and have a drink at my place?”
“We’ll pass.” Sutton tugged him away from the truck.
“I wasn’t going to accept,” Tate said as they watched Greer’s truck pull onto the road. “Who were you trying to get away from?”
“It was a tie,” Sutton answered as he opened the truck door.
He climbed in the truck, taking her hand back in his and linking their fingers together. He tugged her closer until she sat next to him. Then Tate drove out of the parking lot, but instead of turning in the direction of home, he made a right, turning back toward town.
“Where are we going now?”
“I thought we would take a detour before going home.”
She started giggling when he made a left a mile down the road.
He expertly guided the truck up the mountain until they reached the top. Tate parked the truck, looking out over the mountains.
“I haven’t been up here in years.” He shifted until he could look at her. “Not since I was here with you. I remember coming up here after we went to Rosie’s. Every time we came, I hoped to get past first base with you.”
Sutton reached out, unbuttoning his shirt. “Get ready. You’re about to hit a homerun.”
Chapter 21
Sutton smoothed her hands over Tate’s chest. God, she loved touching him. Every touch reminded her she was with him, that it wasn’t a dream.
She placed a kiss at the base of his throat, her tongue exploring the salty taste of him. “When you used to touch me, it was everything I could do not to give in to you. Now I can’t imagine not having you inside me.”
His hand went to the hem of her dress, shoving it out of the way before sliding his hand up her thigh and going to her pussy. “If I could go back in time, I would beat the shit out of Cash and drag you into my truck. You would have broken and told me the truth. You never could hold back with me.”
“That isn’t true. I didn’t have sex with you.”
“Only because I didn’t push you.”
Sutton had to admit to the truth in that statement. Tate had always let her make up her own mind.
A tear ran down her cheek at the thought. He had set an example for what she should have seen was a flaw in Scott’s behavior before they were married. It always had to be Scott’s way. Even when they were picking out the decorations for their wedding, he had done the choosing. She had ignored the warning signs and had paid the price, and so had Valentine. That was what she had found was the hardest to deal with.
“Look at me, Sutton.”
She raised her head to stare into his eyes and caught her breath. He was giving her himself without fear or misgivings. It was openly mind-blowing feeling that he trusted her, without fear that she would throw it back in his face. He didn’t ask for her to show it back or tell him how she felt in return; he was just showing her how he felt.
He gave her the power in the relationship to make her own decisions. His jealousy might have driven him to tinker with her car and butt into her meeting with Liam, but for a Porter, used to having his own way and knocking any obstacle out of his path instead of going around it, he had showed remarkable restraint.
“I love you.” She let go of the hatred she had felt for herself for not protecting Valentine better, for not being strong enough to get away from Scott, for being the weak, useless victim he had made her believe she was.
Her struggle and suicide attempts hadn’t been because of Scott, but because she wasn’t able to forgive herself. All the group members at her support meetings, friends at work, and her therapist had told her it wasn’t her fault; she hadn’t believed them until now, as Tate showed her what real love was.
Evil intentions masquerading as caring cannot be recognized when good has never seen evil before. Scott had been her first brush with evil, and God willing, she would never see it again. If she did, she prayed she would be able to fight it better than she had the first time.
“I love you,” Tate repeated her words without hesitation.
She undid his belt then unsnapped his jeans. “Make love to me.”
Tate helped her shimmy out of her underwear before pressing her down onto the bench seat of his truck.
“I want you to know that I never fucked Cheryl without a condom, ever. Her having the clap was a rumor Jared started when she divorced him.”
“I didn’t ask, because I knew you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” Her lack of trust in Tate had been what had destroyed her life, and she would never make that mistake again.
“You’re so beautiful. It hurts my dick to look at you. Even after I fuck you, I can’t breathe because I want you again.”
“Me, too … I thought I could never enjoy sex, and now I can’t get enough of you. No one ever made me feel the way you do or ever will.” She smoothed his plaid shirt off his shoulders that gleamed in the moonlight.
He made her feel soft and feminine.
Sutton shuddered as he unzipped her dress, sliding it off in the tight confines of the truck. She wanted to make love to him until the only woman he could remember being in his arms was her.
She had learned his sweet spots. His neck was sensitive, which she now delicately licked the side of, gently biting down and marking him as hers. Any woman in town who tried to take Tate from her would find she wouldn’t stand around and let them take him from her again. She would fight tooth and claw to keep what was hers, and Tate was hers.
Tate rose up over her, sliding his dick into her, his hand going to the door over her head to brace himself to not smother her with his weight.
“Careful. I don’t want to fall,” Sutton warned as he began to thrust into her.
He buried his face in her neck. “If we fall, we’ll do it together. Nothing can hurt us again.” He took her hand, lifting it to his mouth, tracing the scarred flesh of her wrist with his lips. “Together, Sutton.”
“Together.” She wiggled under him, driving him deeper inside of her until she didn’t know where he ended and she began, melding them together as one.
He groaned as he climaxed, and watching his face and the expression of pure pleasure drove her to find her own orgasm. They then lay on the bench seat, enjoying holding each other.
Both of them jumped when a sharp rap on the window startled them. Tate reached down, handing her the dress that had fallen to the floorboard. He rose up enough for her to cover herself before straightening to roll down the window.
Sutton wanted to die of embarrassment when she saw the sheriff staring into the dark cab.
“A little too old to be making out at Lookout Point, aren’t you, Tate?” Knox didn’t make an attempt to hide his amusement.
Tate unconcernedly zipped himself back into his jeans. “I’ve seen some of those parties you and The Last Riders throw at the lake. At least I made sure no one was around.”
The huge sheriff’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Really? Then how did I sneak up on you without you noticing?”
“I noticed. I just wasn’t finished.”
Sutton’s mouth dropped open. She reached out, smacking him on the back of his head.
Knox started chuckling when Tate tried to catch her flailing hands.
“I’ll leave you to deal with her. Keep an eye out and remember we haven’t caught that shooter. Wouldn’t want you to get shot in the back while you’re … finishing.” With that, the sheriff returned to his squad car.
“I can’t believe you.” Sutton quickly pulled on her dress before reaching down to snag her panties. Raising her hips, she put them on as she listened to Tate laugh his head off at her.
“You jerk, quit laughing. Daffy Duck has more sense than you!”
“Come on, Sutton; it was funny as shit. You should have seen your face when he was standing there. It was your idea to make out in my truck, so don’t blame me for giving in,” he snickered.
Sutton was about to let him have it again when a strange expression crossed his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He started the truck, turning it around and driving down the mountain with hair-raising speed.
“Tate, you’re scaring me.”
“You mind if we spend the night at my house?”
“No, why?”
“I heard the death bells earlier today, then again when we were in the bar. I want you safe at the house where I can protect you and the others better. Dustin’s at the house with Logan and Holly, but we know Greer’s in town.”
Sutton didn’t question the request. He had once told her he heard death bells when someone he knew died. It wasn’t folklore among mountain people, but a strong belief handed down through generations.
“I don’t mind,” she assured him as they drove toward his house.
He had her call and warn Greer, who answered the phone, obviously drunk, but when she conveyed Tate’s message to be careful, he sobered instantly.