Keeping What's His: Tate (Porter Brothers Trilogy 1)

“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?”