Chapter8
Lakelyn
After a night of tossing and turning and hours of taping today, I’m done for. I know I need to just go back to the B&B and sleep. I’ll have one more day here in Whiskey Run, just long enough to shoot retakes if the director decides we need to after looking at today’s film. But instead of walking toward the B&B, I’m walking toward Tate’s garage. It could have something to do with Tara pressuring me, telling me that if I really liked him, I wouldn’t just give up. Or it could be that I’m just drawn to him, and even though it’s going to appear like I’m begging, I can’t just leave tomorrow. Not without talking to him first.
I walk into the garage, and Tate is bent over under the hood of a Ford F350 truck. He’s mumbling under his breath as he works, and I take a minute to watch him. It’s obvious he knows what he’s doing even if he is frustrated.
“Damn it!” he yells as he tosses a wrench into the toolbox next to him.
“Try the five-eighths,” I tell him.
His head swings toward me so fast I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself. He looks me up and down. He’s noticing that I’m in another pair of cut-offs and a T-shirt and flip-flops. I thought about staying in my makeup and updo, but I wanted to be comfortable when I faced him. And me, like this, makes me comfortable.
He harumphs... but he does grab the five-eighths wrench, and he’s able to loosen the pipe fitting he’s obviously been working hard on. He doesn’t look back at me, but he does ask, “How’d you know that?”
I walk toward him and stop next to him. “My dad.”
He nods but doesn’t ask any more questions.
“Are you going to talk to me?” I ask him.
He’s quiet for so long I’m beginning to think he’s not even going to answer me. Finally, when I’m about to give up all hope, he does, but it’s not what I want to hear. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “That’s funny. I thought we do. Or did kissing me last night not mean anything to you?”
He doesn’t answer me, and I turn to go. “I should have known better. You are a player... you get off on girls falling for you and then shoot them down or something. Whatever, Tate. Have a good life.”
I get as far as the door when I hear the clink of tools hitting one another and then his feet stomping across the pavement. He hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me to him, while his other hand is on my hip, holding me close. His breath is hot and heavy next to my cheek. “I’m not a player.”
I’m holding my breath. My nipples are tight, and my panties are already soaked. I lean my head back on his shoulder and push my ass back to feel his erection poke into my side. I move my hips, and he groans and then hisses a breath between his lips. “Fuck, what do you to me.”
I grab his hands and pull them up my body until he’s cupping both my breasts in his hands. It’s my turn to moan when he squeezes their weight and flicks a finger across my hard tips. The garage doors are open. Anyone on the street would be able to see us, know what we’re doing, but I don’t care.
“Tate,” I groan as he thrust his hips against me. His cock is hard, and I push back against him.
He lets me go in an instant, and I moan in displeasure until I see him hurriedly lowering the garage doors and locking them. I don’t wait. I take off every stitch of clothing, and I’m glad I did when he turns around and I see the surprise and desire on his face when he sees my naked body.
He’s on me in an instant. “Fuck, baby. I couldn’t sleep last night for thinking about you like this...”
He’s touching me everywhere, his hard, callused hands stroking my body everywhere except where I need it. I pull his hand between my legs. “What were you thinking about... tell me,” I ask, wanting to hear him put it into words.
His fingers go through my slick folds, and the moisture coats his finger. I’m wet... embarrassingly so but that’s how much I want him.
He strokes back and forth. “I pictured you just like this... your naked beautiful body, moaning my name. I thought about how I wanted to take you... impale you on my dick until you forgot about any other man that’s touched you...”
“No...” I groan when he pushes his long, thick finger inside me. “You’re the only one.”
He freezes, but my body has a mind of its own, and I rock back and forth on his hand. I’m so close... I need to come.
“Baby... Lake... stop...” he says.
I shake my head, not stopping. “Please don’t stop, I need to come,” I plead with him.
He crushes my lips with his, and his tongue mimics the movements of his finger. He’s pushing in and out of my body and then pulsating his thumb over my swollen clit. I come in an instant, hollering his name, gripping my nails into his forearms to hold on.
He doesn’t stop until I’m completely satisfied and softly whimpering in his arms.
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