Sacking The Player

m curled up on the couch in my pajamas watching Shadow Hunters. It’s a teenage show, but I loved those books. I take a bite of my cherry ice cream and try to eat my feelings. It isn’t working. I called in sick at my new job. I’ll probably get fired. Right now, I can’t be bothered to care. I don’t know how I thought I was going to be able to see Tate and keep a straight face to begin with.

My phone rings and I start to ignore it but it’s my mom and if I don’t answer she’ll get on a plane to see me. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetie. How’s the new job going?” She asks.

We chat a while, and of course, I avoid telling her I’ve seen Tate, or that I broke up with Sam when I hear a knock at my door.

“I gotta go Mom, I think Courtney is here.”

I end the call. I go to the door as another knock bangs loudly. I still have my spoon in my hand as I throw the door open. Tate is standing at my door looking as sexy as the day I first met him if not better. Damn him.

“Can we talk?” He looks as if he just won big, he has a huge grin on his face, and looks as if he wants to eat me alive.

“Tate, I…”

“You nothing, Amaya.” He steps into my apartment, forcing me back toward the couch. “We’re settling this right here, right now. We’ll never be over. We’re meant to be.”

He grabs me forcefully by the back of my head and I hit him with my spoon. “You don’t get to kiss me, Tate!”

He laughs and looks at me and bam, my ovaries explode. I tear into him, kissing him, scratching him. I need him.

Tate pulls back from me. “We should talk.”

“We should,” I agree.

However, talking is the last thing we do. The next thing I know, clothes are flying, and Tate has me in his arms carrying me to my bed. I thought it was my bed, but he accidentally took us to the bathroom.

“Oops,” he says on a laugh.

“Next door,” I tell him.

Then we are silent except for the heavy breaths passing between us and the erratic beating of my heart.

Tate tosses me on the bed, and I bounce as though I am his football on the covers.

He shoves his pants down, revealing his sexy as sin body that I have missed the touch of. He snakes across the bed, not wasting any time. He goes straight to it, and I don’t even try and stop him. He shoves his finger between my lips, and I suck it, licking it and savoring his salty taste.

He doesn’t give me easy and soft. It’s hard and primal when he rips my panties off and brings them to his nose. “Fuck, I love the way you smell. That smell is only for me.”

I can only nod as he spreads my legs apart. With his mouth pressed to my clit, he kisses me there once then stops giving me this sad look. “Have you been fucking Sam?”

“No,” I tell him, honestly. We hadn’t progressed that far in our relationship.

“Good,” he grunts and then he claims my pussy with his mouth. He licks me, sucks me, and fingers me without letting up for air. He’s like a mad man as he works two orgasms from me in no time.

I can hardly breathe let alone move, I am so shaken and entranced by him. This doesn’t feel real. Any minute now I am going to wake up with melted ice cream puddled in my lap and reality will set back in.

“Are you on birth control?” He questions, as he thrusts inside me.

I can only shake my head and swallow hard. I hadn’t gotten back on it yet. I actually have an appointment next week in case Sam and I decided to go to that level. After my accident, I never went back on it. I didn’t see a reason to.

“Tonight, I’m doing what I should have done years ago,” he growls and pumps into me again.

I gasp at how deep he’s gone and how full I feel.

“What’s that?” I ask, but I have a feeling I already know.

“I’m filling you up with my love, Amaya. I’m making a baby with you. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”