XOXO NIGHT TEMPEST
Yes, Master The Finale
“This is so ridiculous. I don’t even know where to begin.”
My hands drifted through Tate’s hair. He slept soundly in my lap, soft snores
blowing against my knee. “I’m not one of you, I don’t get it.”
Micah sat still in his chair. His eyes fixed on the window
outside in thought. I felt bad for him actually—with this talk of mates, Cade,
and just losing Isaac all in one breath. The guy was sinking somewhere deep and
emotionless. He had to be hurting. I
didn’t know if I could leave Tate knowing that he would one day be my
everything like Micah had with Cade.
And Cade? That poor guy, holy shit was he going to lose it.
Isaac and Melaina were the water that made him grow. Without them, he was
another only child lost to the world—never had been independent, too family
oriented too function. He had never been the type to stray far from them. He’d
grown up with Dan and a few others, but for the most part, he lived a life of
seclusion. Damon Ruiz had been the one guy to snag Cade in his slutty clutches,
only to drop poor Hightower on his ass when something dirtier came along. Yeah,
I’d heard all about that scandal.
Now Cade was all alone, slowly falling to pieces if he had
heard the news.
“The queen should be calling us shortly when things get
sorted out. Just relax for now.” David sighed heavily.
Everyone was feeling
these deaths around me. I too felt the grief, but I had to keep it together. We
couldn’t all break under pressure, even if we wanted nothing more than to curl
up in a ball and sob. Isaac and Melaina were good people and I would miss them.
I would miss them a lot. But someone had to hold their shit together and today,
unfortunately, that someone was going to be me.
“I don’t mean to push this, but how do you expect me to
relax, David? I just witnessed an unholy blood bath between crime lords,
vampires, and SWAT. I am holding my boyfriend who was pierced by some fucked up
metal rod that put him into heat and then? I watched his wound heal before my
very eyes. You whisk me away to Europe
after you erased the minds of some of the deadliest men in the city, the
fucking Cartel, tell me I’m going to lead your race, or manage it, in some new
era for New York City, tell me my father’s best friends are dead, and expect me
to relax?”
“Look at it from our perspective, Oliver. If you hadn’t been
wearing that mic, we would’ve been exposed to the entire world as a race. Our
queen is in mourning for members of her family. A war is being raged on our
species by a threat that we might
understand. Our friend…our loved ones are dead. Isaac and Melaina held this
city together.” David rubbed his eyes. Were those tears? “We know we’re asking
a lot of you right now, but in the scheme of things, we aren’t asking
much. We want you to be who you are, do
what you do best.
Most of our leaders are old world, Oliver. They don’t care
about the business side of thing, just that everything stays afloat around
them. Isaac did though and he chose you because he believed with all his heart
that you could do it, that you could help us.
Are you saying you can’t or that you won’t?” When David looked up, his
eyes were full of tears.
Micah laid eyes on me then. “Think about Cade. He’s going to
part of this pretty soon. They’re going to come after him next if the threat is
who we believe it to be. He’s precious to the Royals, the last of his kind. He
can’t do his father’s job as much he’s going to try. He isn’t made for that
life. Are you going to shoulder that burden on the man I love while he’s
grieving?”
“I would never do that to him. He’s my friend, Micah.” I was
shocked that he would even think that.
“I’m not a bastard.”
“Then do it.” David searched my eyes.
Looking down at Tate, I brushed his hair away. I had two
choices now. I could walk away from this. They could probably scramble my brain
and leave me on the side of the ocean. Or I could take the high road and make
something more out of my life. I could protect my friends and family. Fight
back against this asshole that was threatening us all. Decision made, I looked
up.
“I have no idea what I’m getting into. But I’m in.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~```
Who the hell knew what time it was, but I had heard the word
France somewhere in Micah and David’s conversation. I was too tired to care though. The mysterious queen’s people had called
David and he said we would chat tomorrow. It was night here. Hadn’t it just
been night time? Fuck, I was thrown off by all the changes going on.
I’d already dealt with enough on the ride here. David had
taken a blood sample from Tate in his sleep. Micah had briefly shown me what
all I’d be doing. I’d drank enough mini-bottles of whatever alcohol had been
dumped over ice on the flight to Europe. I was done. The rest would have to
wait for now. What I cared about was holding Tate, getting into this bed, and
sleeping for the next three days curled around his warm body.
“You good here, Oliver?” Micah yawned in the doorway. Poor
guy had been on the phone all night with the Hightower’s housekeeper Maggie.
The situation was going from bad to worse with Cade. Could I really be the one
to fix everything on the business end? There was so much to do.
“Yeah. You got satellite here?” I gestured around at the
room.
Spa-like in its design, the walls were nothing more than
doors that opened out to the beach, to the ocean air. White linen curtains blew
gently in the breeze, also ruffling the silky white sheets of the king sized
bed. No headboard or decoration, just a beautiful slab of heaven in the middle
of the room.
Shaking his head, Micah walked to a wall of curtains and
drew them back to reveal a flat screen.
“It’s on one thirty two if that’s what you wanted.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I murmured. I didn’t want to see, but if I
was going to be doing this. I had to know the ins and outs of the media and
their perceptions of the situation. See if we missed something. If there was
any way we could have made the situation better.
“That’s why he chose you, Oliver. You’re just like him.”
Micah smiled weakly. “I don’t even have the stomach yet to watch it.”
“Then how did you know I…”
“Because that’s what good assistants do and seeing how yours
is out for the count right now, it’s the least I could do to step in for a
minute.” He shrugged.
“Thanks, Micah.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “If there’s
anything I can do for you, let me know okay?”
Micah looked up at me with confusion, his face softening a
bit. “Good night, Oliver.” His eyes flitted to Tate on the bed with a look of
longing before he turned and left me standing there.
If I could’ve given him Cadence Hightower with a bow wrapped
around his chest, I would have. But that was another story for another time,
one they would have to write together. Seeing Tate sprawled out in only his
slacks on the bed though, I knew what Micah craved. Not my man personally, but
a person to touch, to feel at the end of the night.
Clothes on the floor, I climbed into bed with the remote
from the wall. The television glowed a florescent blue, giving me a second to
process what I was about to watch. I flipped the channel. The news station was
live from Bennett Wharf. Banners with different information about their deaths
flew across the top and bottom of the screen.
I pulled Tate to me and settled in. The city’s top news
reporter, Brian Gonzales was standing on the asphalt. Flashing lights and city
cars filled the picture behind him.
“Thanks, Gabe. We’ve been reporting to you live from Bennett
County since around eleven o’ clock last night. This stretch of road you see
behind me is located just about three minutes from the victim’s home right up
that road. If you’re just joining us,
the New York state troopers were called on the scene when a vehicle going
around this bend here, slipped on black ice and went off the side into the
rocks below.
By the time officers arrived on scene, the vehicle was
already engulfed in flames. That vehicle belonged to Hightower Industries owner
and CEO, Isaac Hightower and his wife, Melaina. Both officers and EMTs tried to
reach the vehicle to pull the victims out, but they were unable to save them
due to the magnitude of the flames.
The only witness to this tragedy was unavailable for
comment, but we will keep trying to reach them for more information. When we
tried to reach the family for more comment, the Hightower’s only child Cadence
Hightower, we were directed to the family’s lawyer who had no comment for us
either. In the loss of one of New
York’s most beloved businessmen and his lovely wife, we offer our condolences
and thoughts to their family and friends.
Tomorrow night, we’ll bring you a nightly special on the
lives of Isaac and Melaina Hightower. A long-time romance, the charitable
nature the couple offered to a city in need, and what comes next for a business
fortress like Hightower Industries. Stay
tuned as we find our more information within the hour.”
Slow music played as the camera was panned around the scene.
Smoke filled the air, cops covered every inch of the road they had perished
on. My anger began to rise. Rutovsky’s
boss had done this. One of his people had been chasing them down that road and
Isaac was trying to get home—trying to protect his son from the enemy. The
enemy which wasn’t ever going to be able to be contacted for comment, because I
knew with all my heart he was dead as a doornail. David had shown me the
pictures as confirmation and given me relief to know Cade was being heavily
watched until Micah could return to stay at the Wharf.
Sliding down into Tate’s side, I took a few breaths to calm
my body. I wanted to call Yuri, this queen, do something to help right now. But
I knew I needed a clear head. I needed more information about what I was up
against before I could be of any use. I
turned off the television and let the remote fall to the floor.
Tomorrow would be a new day. We were safe here for the most
part. I’d have time to get things done, take care of Tate. We just needed some
fresh air after the shock of everything wore off and reality set in. Pulling
Tate’s slacks off, I pressed our naked bodies together and let the breeze roll
over us.
A happy sigh sounded from underneath me and that little
exhale of breath made me smile. With a kiss to his hair, I closed my eyes and
began to sleep away the nightmares.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I woke up, a handsome little face looked down at me.
Eyes the color of Caribbean waters blinked before Tate descended onto my mouth.
His hair was a mess under my hands. His body was a little sweaty, but he felt
so good moving on top of me. Kissing me lightly, he pulled back.
“Where are we? What happened last night?” He stretched with
a yawn. “I feel hung over.”
In answer, I pulled him down and kissed him—craving him with
every thought in my brain. With a quick roll onto his back, I pressed my mouth
to his, hard, thrusting my tongue between his eager lips. His moan was all I
needed to hear and the details would have to wait. It had been too long since I
felt him like this.
“Oliver,” he gasped. My hand pushed him into the bed around
his neck lightly. My teeth pulled his tight little nipple away from his body.
“God. Yes!”
A little harder, I bit down until he arched all the way off
the bed. Happy with the red that shaded both sides of his chest, I moved down
his body. Before my very eyes, his soft dick began to swell. A few teasing
caresses and it filled my palm like steel. My eyes flicked to his with a smile.
Soft gasps of need with the clench of his fingers into the
bed caused me to salivate. With a flick of my tongue, I licked the head of him.
His little gasps became moans. My lips sucked the head of his cock inside,
harder and harder the suction lifted his ass from the sheets—enough for me to
slip my hands underneath him.
I didn’t think I would ever get enough of Tate Raymee. Still
craving a little bit of dominance was a far cry from the man I used to be just
a short time ago. He had changed me, had me whipped, turned me soft, gave me
emotions—whatever it was I called, I knew I loved him with all my heart. My
response to seeing him alive and well was to attack his body with passion. I
needed him like the air I breathed. To think for one second that he was gone to
me…
His taste on my tongue pleased me. Those soft sounds of sexy
panic drove me crazy. I wanted to bury myself inside of him and live there for
the rest of my life. I wanted to pleasure him until he never left me ever
again. I wanted a guarantee that he would be okay, that I would never lose him.
The need drove me on, taking him to the root and back again like a machine.
A small hand slid over mine on his ass. He squeezed, guiding
me where he wanted it. That’s how this worked now. I could have my time, but
when he got frustrated, he would help me along. Even in sex, we had become a
team—giving and taking, compromising to the fullest extent. So when he pushed my finger down the crack of
his ass, I had no problem complying with his need.
Like he was made of air, I lifted his bottom half off the
bed in my palms. His legs were spread and the soles of his feet slipping over
my shoulders until my face was where he wanted it. Tongue slicking over his
skin, I felt his smooth texture under my wet muscle. A few nips to his silken
balls and I slicked my tongue back down the line of his ass, over his entrance—driving
him nuts.
“More,” he pleaded. His chest heaved. The line of body was
stretched tight in arc of perfection. He was the epitome of beauty in my eyes.
All mine.
Burying my face between his cheeks, I swirled my tongue,
filling my taste buds of his musky flavor. His entrance twitched beneath my
mouth, begging to be filled, but I wanted him wet first. A drop of saliva
dripped from my mouth. The heavy bead of fluid ran down his skin causing me to
groan at the sight. Furiously, I worked the lubrication over his hole.
He begged, screamed, and tightened his whole body. The tip
of my tongue penetrated him. A sigh of pleasure rendered him limp as my mouth
fucked him—stabbing my tongue with vigor. My fingers held him with a bruising
grip—a grip that he had come to love. I couldn’t take it anymore and set him
back on the bed completely.
Wetting my finger, I pushed it inside of him. So tight, his
muscles never ceased to amaze me. As I stared at my finger working inside of
him, I looked into his eyes. He was so vulnerable, under my spell. He loved me
back. Someone fucking loved me with all their heart. He trusted everything I
did for him. He would follow me to the ends of the earth.
Could I ever watch him die? Could I lose him forever? Even
as perverse as my train of thought was headed, I pictured my father. He had
been given a second chance at life. Jacob Caldwell was stronger now. He was
healthy, would live forever. Then the craziest thought of all hit me. Now that
I was a part of this, would we get that chance too? Did I want that life with
Tate? Fangs and all?
“Oliver! Put it in. Oh God, I beg you!”
Shaking my head, I realized I had three fingers working in
and out of my lover. He twisted and turned, pushed back against my hand. How
many more years did I have of this wonderful man before a human death took him
away from me? He filled my heart with
the sounds of his love and I knew right then I would never give him over to
death. They owed me that much, these vampires.
My fingers slipped out of him, coating my cock until it
glowed in the afternoon light. “Stay with me, Tate. Don’t you ever leave me
alone.” My words caused him to raise his head in surprise.
“What? I would never…oh fuck yeah,” he slurred as I pushed
inside of him. I wanted him to feel all of me—the raw pain, the fullness I
provided, the twitch of my cock in time with the blood beating through me. This
raw emotion welling in my heart had somehow transferred into the inches I put
inside of him.
He must have felt my intention because he eased his grip on
my arms, his muscles relaxed a little. Even his eyes searched mine. “Oliver?”
“Say you’ll never leave me.” I covered his body with mine
until I was all the way in. My lips found their way to his. A soft kiss that
was very different than anything we usually shared. It was warm and tender, a
seal of my feelings for him.
“I’ll never leave you,” he whispered. His hands clung to my
short hair.
The first roll of my hips left us frozen in a stare. Our
eyes never wavered, our hands held each other tight. The only thing that moved
was our lower bodies. Together, like they we were a part of each other. I’d
never known this with someone else—this feeling that anything I did, he would
already be one step ahead of me, like we shared a brain.
The notion seized my chest. To know that even though we were
two different people, we could be so close, so intimate was breath taking.
Maybe it was the years of going without someone like Tate that made me react so
dramatically to his touch, but part of me knew I just needed it. This was real.
This was love. Throughout the entire process of our relationship, I had said
this a few times, but now that the action had slowed down and I had time to reflect
it really sunk home.
“I love you, Tate,” I gasped the words with conviction. My
hips pounded into his ass. My cock leaked inside him, preparing for the point
of no return.
“Love…” he panted. “Oh God, love you too.”
His mouth opened wide in an attempt to inhale our passion
into his mouth because words failed him. I slammed home, loving how my skin met
his with a sweaty urgency—the sound so fast, so repetitive, as if our bodies
were applauding our coupling. Blunt
nails dug into my arm and back. The pain of his clawing was so amazing. I
wanted more.
Yet, my cock had other plans. Pushing forcefully on the back
of his thighs, I slammed his knees to his shoulders and took him hard. He had
no choice, but to surrender to my will. Not that he was complaining. His hands
wrapped around his knees. Garble paraded off his tongue in the form of
luxurious moans and half formed syllables while my cock slid in and out at a
rate that surprised even me.
But this was me
and I had my hands to either side of head, plowing away at his entrance like a
jackhammer. His eyes rolled around for a second and I knew he was close. Make
that, we were close. One last brush
of my balls over his ass and I came apart. Buried deep inside his heat, Tate
forcefully brought me down to meet his lips.
Melting together, he screamed into my mouth his own release.
A fist around his cock, I felt the first drops of smoldering seed hit my
chest. All the breath left my body onto
his lips. Nerves shattered inside me. Tate’s muscles squeezing the very life
out of me—milking me, sucking me dry.
Sweat ran down the backs of my legs. His hair matted to his
face, but a smile on his lips as I pulled back to see his hazy eyes. His post
sex face made me want to sigh. So I did, because who the fuck cared? It was
just me and him, him and me. We just wanted each other, loved the feel of this
bliss in the air. Who did I have to play asshole for? No one, I smiled. I
actually fucking smiled.
“One,” he whispered hoarsely. “I love that smile.” His
fingers drifted down my jaw. “And two,
before you assault me again, where are we? What happened?”
“I love you too.” I raised a brow with a chuckle.
“I thought that was a given,” he returned. “But one way or
another, Oliver Caldwell, I will get an answer out of you.”
“You don’t just want to play a little while longer before I
ruin your day?” I murmured against his mouth.
He looked around for a second. The breeze fluttered through
the room. Tate took in his surroundings with a little more detail. “How could
you ruin this? This is gorgeous, Oliver. Come on seriously, where are we?”
“France. I think.” I shrugged as he sat up in my lap. The
bed was a mess, we were a mess, but none of that mattered as he wrapped his
arms around my waist and stared out over the beach.
Turning his head up to me, his eyes locked on mine. “France?
You think?”
“It’s been a long twenty four hours, Tate. I don’t think
ending up on another continent should really upset you after…yeah.”
“Upset me? Fuck that, I’m excited. France…”
I smiled. “Why are so excited? You must have been all over
the place with…him.”
He frowned. “No. He would never take me on those trips. I’ve
only ever been out of New York when I would visit my grandmother in New
Jersey.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, so can we just hold the phone? I wanna see France for
a second.” He grinned, slipping off the bed. Naked, he padded to the open deck
that looked out over the private beach. His eyes smiled over his shoulder.
“Come see.”
I’d been to France countless times, but not like this. Not
with him and really? I’d never been to the remote parts of the coast like this,
although I’d always wanted to. So peaceful, different than what I could have
imagined. Tall grass grew around a small trail that led to white sand and calm
waters. An infinity pool drifted off from the deck, seamlessly fitting into the
beach atmosphere, and I swear to God I felt home for the first time in my life.
Here with Tate, I was home.
“Can we go swimming?” He smiled.
“You can do whatever you like, baby.” A kiss to his neck, I
wrapped my arms around him. “After we talk about last night.”
“What if I don’t want to know?” The first hint of fear
rippled in his quiet question.
“If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I hate when you get upset.
Unless you do that angry face, where your eyes get all funny and your hair
seems to stick up on end. You know, Angry
Squirrel?”
He flipped around in my arms. “I am not an angry squirrel,
damn it!” His eyes narrowed.
“How did I get so lucky? You are fucking adorable when you
do that.” I pulled him up onto the railing.
My lips touched his, rendering him helpless in my arms. “Okay, fine you win.” He sighed. “What
happened?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later, Tate walked into the open living room with
red rimmed eyes. Our talk had not gone very well. He remembered everything
before the dart had hit him and now
he was worried he was going to die. He cried for Isaac and Melaina. He cried
because he didn’t know what fate our rescuers Ghost and King had fallen on. He
was scared shitless and he didn’t know how to handle it.
I’d tried consoling him. Hell, I’d tried everything to get
to him to understand what we were doing here and what we were going to do, but
he sort of shut down after everything had been said. He sat in a chair across
from me, worried that he was contagious and that I would catch something. A
little angry that I had just made love to him without knowing if he was now
diseased.
Exhaling from frustrations, I smiled at him weakly, but he
looked away with a cross of his arms.
“Tate, you have to understand that you’re here because this
is the only way to keep you safe. Until we have a plan, it was necessary to
remove you and Oliver from the situation in New York. The enemy knows both of
you now.”
“He knows my family also! My God, what about them? They
could be dead somewhere! I didn’t even think,” he sobbed.
“The queen is having them protected, Tate. They’re perfectly
safe.”
“Yeah about as safe as this whole Alex thing was supposed to
have been? Fuck that, I wanna speak to this damned queen and find out what the
hell she’s doing. Sitting on her ass up there in her fancy house while everyone
around her dies probably.”
David growled a bit, fisting his hands at his sides. “No, she…”
“That’s alright, David. He has every right to feel that
way.” A light female voice proceeded the clip of heels into the living room.
“Your majesty,” Micah and David chorused, standing quickly
with a bow.
Maybe twenty five, the curly blonde woman took the few
stairs down into the room. Sleek black heels, a wide brimmed hat covered half
her face, and black gloves were pulled from her small hands. This was their queen?
Tate’s mouth hung open in shock. Like myself, he couldn’t
believe this woman ruled an entire race of vampires. She was so…tiny.
“I have a few hours before I have to get back for the
services tomorrow.” She sat down next to Tate who was still in a state of awe.
“Your majesty, you should have informed us of your arrival.
We would have…”
“You would have what? Worn a different tie with that shirt,
David?” She shook her head. “I’ve had too much on my mind to worry about the
frivolity of tradition that comes with being a queen. I couldn’t rest and I
needed to make sure they were indeed safe for myself. Not that I didn’t trust
you both, I just needed this.”
“There are guards stationed all over outside. I’m sure you
knew that already though.” Micah ran a hand through his hair.
Crossing her leg, she took off her hat. “Yes. It doesn’t
sate the mother in me though. I would
have been here sooner, but I had to visit Cadence.”
“How is he?” Micah leaned forward quickly. If she had been
closer, he would have surely grabbed her hand.
“Micah, I don’t possess the proper term for how he is.” She looked
at her knees with grief. “As much as it
pains me to say, I would have you stay here for the duration of their work here
in France. Rowen is being Rowen, and Yuri is maintaining things in the city
until Oliver returns. Jacob has taken up root in Oliver’s business while the
police become involved and frankly I just don’t trust anyone else right now.”
“I…I understand, Nina.” Micah put his head down a little.
The need to go to Cade was obvious, but what would he say to a guy he’d never
met, yet he was hopelessly in love with? How the hell did this mating thing
work if you weren’t even a vampire? Fuck, this was so overwhelming.
“Forgive me, Micah. I am truly in need of you or I would not
have…”
“It’s fine, Nina. If you’ll excuse me,” he cut her off as
politely as he could.
“Take your time.” She placed her hat down next to her as
Micah left the room quickly. What an awful feeling, I thought. To know that you
couldn’t be with someone you loved when they were hurting in the worst way.
“Hello there. You must be Tate.” She held out her hand to
him, only to have him just stare at her. “That’s alright. I know you must be in
shock right now.” Patting his hand, she turned to me. “Hello, Oliver.”
“Hello.” What else did I say? Was I supposed to bow or
stand, maybe give her my hand? What the fuck was I saying? She wasn’t my queen,
right?
“First, I owe you a thank you for your efforts on our
behalf. Your bravery, risking the life of your mate to help uncover Alexander’s
plan was above and beyond anything a human has ever done for our kind. Not to
say the humans are aware of us, but what you did was astounding to even myself.
Your race never ceases to amazes me and from the bottom of my heart, I give you
my deepest gratitude. For without you, we would have never understood what was
happening.”
“Wow, thanks.” Deep breath, Oliver. She was tired, even in
her beauty, you could tell she had yet to sleep. The gentlemen in me crawled out my mouth.
“Would you like to lie down? That must have been a long trip…Nina.”
Humor flitted through her eyes. “Yes, it’s Nina, and no, I’m
fine. Thank you for your concern though. If it would be alright with you, I
would hope to get to business so I may get back to the states as soon as
possible.”
Tate inched closer to her. “Can you tell me if I’m going to
die?” Nina, Dave, and I stared at him for a second before he burst into
tears. “I can’t take the not knowing! No
one seems to know what to do and I have to make sure Oliver is okay. What if I
infected him and he could be dying too!”
Immediately I got up from my seat and went to him. He fought
me for a second before cuddling into my chest with a few long mewls of agony.
My eyes searched the queens and she smiled.
David cleared his throat.
“We’re waiting on the results of the blood sample. We could
have tasted your blood for ourselves, but we didn’t want to run the risk that
the drug was meant for us, which if I have Yuri’s comments correct, that is
what it appeared to be. Whatever it was seemed to be out of your system this
morning, but we’ll know within a few hours if any irregularities are still
present. Honestly though, Tate. I wouldn’t count on anything serious.”
“Darling, let’s think about this to put your mind at ease.
If you were dying, would you not be bed ridden instead of sitting here?
Wouldn’t you be sick, unable to eat or drink? In my opinion, and I have seen my
share of death, I believe you to be in perfect health. If anything, the drug
healed you, not hurt you. That in itself is something of a miracle. I have never seen a human heal their self like
us before.” She lightly touched his shoulder.
“Maybe you two should take a few days to rest before you
start with the project, Oliver. David will be here to give you all the contact
information for the other managers. They’ll need to be heavily involved in
this. The one thing I ask is that beyond the managers and the Royals I’ve
listed in the portfolio, I would have you keep this quiet save for the people
on that list. Some of our kind will have a hard time listening to a human and I
don’t want to give anyone further cause for joining up with the enemy. I know once you’ve established a good reputation
with the mangers and they see the work you do, the others will follow in line.”
“Who is this enemy anyways? I keep hearing about him, but no
one has given me a name yet.” I looked between David and Nina. Tate buried
himself closer into my chest. He was not having a good day. Sigh.
“I wanted to be sure before I spread his name. I couldn’t
believe it myself. After all these years, not a peep, but now we know what he
was doing—planting seeds and establishing his army before he crossed into the states.”
“Who is he, Nina?” I asked seriously.
She turned and stared out the window. “He is my brother,
Thomas.”
“What? Why would your brother want you dead?” I couldn’t
believe this. It was too crazy to be true.
A snort sounded, her curls bounced as she faced me. “When
you believe something with all your heart, you are just passionate, but when
you despise something with all your heart—the anger wells inside, it creates a
darkness so powerful you can’t think past it. In this, I pity my brother with
all my heart. I believe the great Albert Einstein describes Thomas the best. ‘God did not create evil. Just as
darkness is the absence of light, evil is the absence of God.’ My brother lost
his faith in our father, in us. He felt abandoned to the darkness, and he became
the dark. In everyone’s life there comes an enemy, Thomas just chose to
actually be his own.
It is why when I look into your
eyes, I see all the things that Isaac saw. Even sitting here saying nothing,
you are absorbing and calculating solutions to every word that comes out of my
mouth. Aren’t you?”
I had to admit my mind was trying
to understand why they hadn’t locked him up, or killed him. It sounded to me
from the tone of her voice that he had gone crazy, but why? Something had to
have triggered it.
“My mate was the first feral of our
kind. He was an original, one of the
first four to ever walk this earth.” She took a slow breath, turning from me. I
didn’t like where this was going. She looked so tiny and vulnerable, so sad.
“You don’t have to tell me any of
this, I said I’d do it,” I assured her, but she held up a hand to silence me.
“I’m not going into details, don’t
worry.” She looked down. “But he gave Thomas, my brother, an outlet for his
madness. Gave the man an in to rectify, try rather, to fix the problem he had
with our race.”
“And what problem was that?” Tate
peeked at the queen.
“He believed, still does, that the
world should be ruled by our kind. The humans should be our pets, our slaves,
something of that nature. That if we refer to ourselves as Royals, direct
descendants or children of the original four, then we should act like
royalty—take what’s ours and not bat an eye.”
“That’s crazy.” Tate’s eyes went
wide. “The world would be nothing, but a warzone.”
“Ah, and therein the problem
darling, that is what we do. We, the true Royals, protect the humans from our
own kind. Creatures like my brother and others that are looking to take
advantage of innocent lives. We make them go away. Forever. But sometimes…they
prevail.” She didn’t look up and she didn’t have to. I could feel her emotions
through every word.
Rubbing Tate’s shoulder, I watched
her. “I’m sorry, Nina. I’m so sorry about Isaac and Melaina.”
“And I’m sorry too, Oliver. I’m sorry you had no choice in
this. I’m sorry you didn’t have the time with Isaac like you should have, like
Micah had. I am so sorry if you left behind a life that you loved because of
us.”
Immediately, I shook my head. “Nina, I admit I was pissed at
first. But when I really look at where am I, who’s in my arms, I realize I
would still be nothing more than a suit if Isaac hadn’t come to me. I wouldn’t
have been able to take Tate away from Alex, if I hadn’t gone there in the first
place. Yeah, I’m scared about what comes next. Who the hell wouldn’t be? But
something tells me it’s going to be okay. I know I’m stubborn, but for once,
I’m just going to go with that little voice.”
She stared at me. For such a young, pretty face, her eyes
held the weight of many secrets and lifetimes. Nina really was their queen and
when she elegantly extended her hand, I smiled. Her fingers brushed mine as I
pressed my lips to her knuckles in a show of trust. Tate slid off my lip, sat
next to me watching her as well.
“Grace under pressure, Oliver. This is why he chose you. I
see that now.” She stood, slipping her
hat back onto her head. “Let’s take a walk, get some fresh air before I have to
leave.
As I took her arm and Tate grabbed my other elbow, I looked
out the open doors. This was my new life. I, Oliver Caldwell was now the
manager of New York City.
*****
Tate turned out to be just fine. The vampire who had
reviewed the blood swore he could see traces elements of vampire blood, smell
it as well, but after a few hours on the slide of the microscope, the human
blood reverted to normal. It was the strangest thing he’d ever seen in all his
life. They kept the sample secured, but they still couldn’t get anything off of
it.
Over the next few weeks, I was a mess of stress. I had
always thrived on fast paced work, but never like this. New face after new
face, language barriers, hell, era barriers—I’d never dealt with this before.
We were forming a community for the race to thrive in. A safe place to raise
children, a network of secure establishments and businesses, places for the
street turned vampires that Thomas had been flipping to live—a city within the
city, the Second City to be more accurate.
The plans were building, locations starting to take shape on
the map. The buroughs had been notified and slowly, volunteers began to
emerge—chaperones, teachers, even cooks. Word would get around that I wasn’t
the bad guy and that I was actually trying to help. That wasn’t what concerned
me at the moment though.
Then there was the funeral that none of us were able to
attend. Isaac and Melaina, their son, Cade, their friends and family had been
on my mind every day. I’d spoken to my father. I’d listened to him try not to
cry while I tried to keep it together on the other end. For the first time in a
long time, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and just hold on. But he was
thousands of miles away and I was swamped—physically and emotionally.
After a few weeks of meetings, listening to Micah flip his
shit over Cade, and David yammer in my ear all day long, I was exhausted. Not
to mention, I missed him—my Tate. I’d been so wrapped up in the upcoming plans
that I barely had time for him. Sure, things had been heated after hours, this
irresistible need to claim his body in the middle of the night, but it was
desperate sex. Not slow, deep, full of meaning like he deserved. And it
certainly didn’t curb my appetite for the other
things we were into. A house full of vampires, yeah, I wasn’t up for seeing the
teasing smiles the next day.
So, when David announced we were to leave the next day, I
almost dropped to my knees with relief. Finally, we could go home, sleep in our
bed. From now on we’d be in our house together. Tate could make me those
pancakes while I watched him flit about the kitchen. We could watch Saturday television or ignore
it actually, while he fell asleep on my chest. Maybe we could repaint the
bedroom, something to make him feel the space was his?
Oh fuck, what was I saying? Paint colors and pancakes? Way
to be so whipped you lose yourself, Oliver.
“What is that face
for?” Tate rubbed my thigh with a smirk. “Let me guess, you’re nervous to do
this for real—nobody else around, no guns or blood, just you and me for once,
huh?”
“I’m not nervous,” I lied.
“Yes, you are.” He kissed my cheek. “That’s okay, I
understand. But it’s not like I’m going to make you paint the walls red or
anything. I like your house the way it is.”
Eyes wide as if he was psychic, I glanced at him.
“Okay, now what the hell is that look for?” He chuckled. “Oh
my God, you thought I was going to redecorate, didn’t you?” Tate burst out laughing.
A smile crafted over my shock. He really did have a gorgeous
grin, his laugh even more infectious than his tight lips pulling his cheeks
higher to his eyes. Without hesitation or acknowledgment of David and the
driver in the front seat, I pulled Tate to me and kissed him. For only a
second, he stiffened against me. Soon he relaxed into my arms, kissing me back
slowly—a hint of a smile against my lips.
“Just not red, okay? Anything you want except that,” I
whispered into his mouth, opening my eyes to look right into his.
With a grin, he moved close to my ear. “Yes, Master.”
He knew I couldn’t attack him in the car. What, with an audience
we knew, it was impossible. I gave him a look of hunger. He got the message
loud and clear, squirming back against the door with a bite of his lip. Tate
Raymee would be the end of me or my eternity if we decided on that. That was a
conversation for another day. Today, it was all about me and him, together.
The car pulled through the front gate, passing the security
guard. Tate covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. The memories of that first
night hit me hard, him naked in my passenger seat, stroking himself for a
complete stranger at my command. God, I wanted him right here just thinking
about it. I settled myself in for the longest minutes of my life. Suitcase be
damned, the driver could keep it.
I wanted to throw Tate over my shoulder and make love to him
like never before. It would be the best sex of his life, in our house, with the
smell of my own sheets surrounding us. The entire drive down my street, I
watched him. Without even looking, he slid his hand over mine. He knew what was
coming.
“Well, this is it boys.” David turned around in his seat.
“It’s been a long journey, but I’m glad we made it.”
His words weren’t lost on me. I knew what he meant and I
nodded my agreement. Taking his hand, I shook it firmly as we came to a stop in
front of my house. “Me too, David, thanks for everything.”
“Don’t thank me just yet.” He grinned. “I’m obligated to
tell you that there are guards on your property.”
“Do what?” I lifted a brow. “You gotta be kidding.”
“It’s for your safety. All of the managers have them and with
you living outside the city limits like this, it’s more than necessary. Don’t
worry though. You won’t see them and they won’t bother you.”
“Oh, now that’s comforting. Grown ass men are prancing
around my house while me and my…” David gave me a stern look. I knew the guards
were staying regardless. “Yeah, okay whatever. If they come near the windows
I’m not going to be so nice about it.”
“I’ll make sure they know not to perv through your windows.”
The manager smiled. “You guys good?”
“We’ll be fine, David. Thank you for taking us home.” Tate
extended his hand.
I loved the way he said home so naturally. Hell, it felt
natural. Like we had just been off on vacation and were being dropped off by
the airport. It gave me a weird tingle, furthering the need to have Tate
underneath me.
“Yep, all good. Let’s go. Later, David!” I whipped open my
door before the driver could and yanked Tate’s hand with me.
“Whoa, Olly, chill!” Tate was awkwardly dragged behind me.
Pulling him along, I left David and the driver in the
dust—both of them laughing as I hauled the door open and slammed it shut behind
us. Forgetting men in the bushes, vampires, or business, I shoved Tate Raymee
against the wall and kissed the ever-loving shit out of my man.
****
It was two days later. The house echoed with Tate’s grunts
and the annoying sound of cardboard being sliced open. He had refused my help
unpacking the things my father had sent over from his apartment. Tate wanted to
find his own places for his clothes and such. Some sort of strange ritual to
him I guess. The more time I spent with him, the more I realized exactly how tidy
he was.
I could remember being in his small apartment not long ago
and thinking the exact same thing. Everything with him was so clean, orderly. Besides
putting my clothes in the hamper, I wasn’t the one that cleaned anything around
here. That was the housekeeper’s job, but now that we had declined further
service from her—ah hell, what the fuck did we do now?
I fingered the entertainment system, noticing all the dust
that had accumulated during our leave and bit back a groan over the phone.
“Yes, everything is on track for next week. My assistant
secured three private showings for the larger spaces and I’m trying to work on
a fourth in Soho, but it’s not technically on the market yet. Did you have
another space in mind or—”
I half listened to the manager on the phone. He was too
detail oriented for my tastes, had been talking about the same meeting for over
an hour on my supposed day off. “Alright, that sounds fine, Timothy. Uh huh. Will
do.” Come on you old bag, I grunted, get the fuck off the phone. “Yes, yes,
we’ll see you then. Mm hmm, okay. You too. Goodbye.”
“Fucking finally!” I voiced to the empty room.
I could hear music now blaring from downstairs. Tate must
have gotten bored with unpacking. But if
he wasn’t doing that anymore, what was he doing?
I crept down the stairs and around the banister with a grin.
A squeaky noise caught my ear above the music, leading me into the leaving
room. There on his knees, with a determined rigor to his hand, was Tate. He
stopped, sprayed more glass cleaner. He once again picked up the rag and went
back to buffing the floor to ceiling window with all his might.
I paused to look at the scene before me. His butt pushed out
in nothing more than a pair of briefs. One of my old college t-shirts hanging
loosely off his body—all that skin exposed. His lean legs trapped under him,
his hands pressed to the glass. It was just too perfect. His compulsive
cleaning had just trapped him in a very vulnerable position.
Tiptoeing back upstairs, I stripped off all my clothes—rubbing
my hands over my pierced nipples with a growl. Yeah, my boy hadn’t taken a
break in a while. I figured this time, I would make him stop. Pulling on a pair
of zip up leather shorts, I grabbed some supplies and went back down the stairs
to stalk my prey.
Of course he was still there, rubbing angry circles into the
glass like he pissed at it. A few times I heard him cursing at it. That dirty
mouth needed to be punished and I knew just the thing. So engrossed in his need
to rid the glass of smudges, I was able to stand right behind him for a while
without him noticing. Two leather cuffs in my hands, each with a Velcro strap
attached, awaited his wrists.
“Put the rag down, Tate,” I commanded. He made to turn
around, but I grabbed onto his hair forcefully. “I didn’t say turn around. I
said put the rag down, boy.”
The rag slipped from his hands, flopping with a wet smack
against the glass to slide to the ground. His fingers splayed against the
window—an open invitation for me to continue as he stared out over the
backyard. Those fuckers wanted to guard the house, walk around like ghosts in
the woods? Well, hopefully they were keeping their word, not perving, because
otherwise they were about to get one hell of a show.
I let go of his hair to pull his shirt over his head. His
body quivered in wait, his fingertips rubbing the glass while he no doubt
counted the seconds until I touched him again. Well he was going to be waiting
for a minute. I wanted to drive him mad, torture his need until he melted into
his submission. I will admit to being impressed. His hands went right back to
the glass. He kept his mouth shut, no back talk, no questions. Just him knowing
what was coming.
I attached the first cuff the curtain loop at the side of
the window. His hand moved towards me, not to touch me, but to offer himself to
me. To be bound with trust by my own two hands. Fighting the desire to kiss him
was hard. Before I had met Tate, I wouldn’t have thought twice, wouldn’t have
cared to kiss a lover, but now—I loved him, which made the need even worse.
Groaning inside, I pulled on his wrist roughly—trapping it
within the leather to secure it tight. Once both of his wrists were bound to
each side of him—pulling his arms to either side—I stepped back to survey him.
His chest puffed with each deep breath. His eyes were fixed
on an unseen point outside, but I knew he was still watching me somehow. His
toes curled, trying to find somewhere to ease the tension in his body. I was
trying to find release too, something to urge me on—to continue with what I had
started instead of wrapping my body around him and taking him right here, right
now.
A smile crept over my face, an idea planted. “Finish
cleaning the glass.”
“Uh, the rag is—” He looked down at the cloth on the floor
then back at the window.
“Unavailable,” I finished. “Clean the glass, boy.”
Leaning forward, he got the hint. His tongue swept out,
flattening to the window. A slow trail of his tongue up the glass, then another
and another until he looked like a cat licking up cream.
“That’s it. Clean it all up.” I grabbed a few things I had
brought from upstairs, kneeling behind him, but not touching. “I bet that
tastes good, doesn’t it, boy?”
He swallowed. “Yes, Master,” he whispered.
“Good.” I trailed a lone finger down his spine. He shivered
so hard, I thought he’d come right there, but he settled himself, finishing his
task at the glass.
Careful not to touch him too much, I pulled on the elastic
of his briefs, slipping them down either side of his hips. He helped me, rising
onto his toes so I could pull them down his legs—eventually all the way off.
More devious ideas came to me. Once I’d flipped on my Master switch, I couldn’t
stop myself.
I left him there, the open air vent right under his spread
legs. The thermostat beeped quietly, masked by the music as I turned it low—oh
so cold air kicking on beneath his hanging balls.
“Holy shit,” he squeaked. “Fuck, Olly!”
Smiling my way back to him, my captive love, I clucked my
tongue a few times. “You’re such a bad boy, speaking out of turn.”
“Forgive me, Master. It’s so cold.” He hung his head, a tremble running through his naked
body.
“Then we better warm you up, huh?”
“Please,” he begged.
With his legs spread as far as they would go on his knees, I
had access to his beautiful little ass. I palmed one cheek, squeezing, kneading
to get the blood flowing before I hauled back and spanked him soundly. He
gasped, but stuck his ass out further.
“Good boy,” I praised, rubbing his other cheek. This time, I
spanked him hard enough that he moaned against the glass.
Over and over, I brought my hand to his cheeks hard. Red
blotches spread over his ass, the back of his thighs where I had gotten carried
away, but he wasn’t shivering from the cold anymore and his dick was leaking
onto the carpet despite the frigid air blowing directly underneath.
The cool temperature, along with my rough handling, was sure
to send his body into another state of bliss. Just for fun, I rubbed my chest, the thick
rings of my nipples, along his back. A guttural moan greeted my touch, Tate
arching to meet me—starved for me.
I reached around, grabbed the base of his shaft and
squeezed. With my other hand, I grabbed the small leather cuff off the floor
before he became fully erect.
“Oh my God,” he breathed.
“What did I tell you about speaking, boy?”
“You said—oh fuck yes,” he moaned when the cuff fit around
the base of his cock and balls. Before my eyes, over his shoulder, the blood
collected in his cock. An angry red, swollen head fought against the restraints.
His length sculpting tight as the glossy fluid still ran thick at the tip.
“Just for that dirty mouth, I have something for you,” I
promised, slipping under his arms to stand between his face and the glass.
Slowly, I unzipped the shorts as he watched me from below.
His eyes so intense, I had to bite back a growl. My cock settled between the
open zippered teeth, hard and waiting for his warm mouth.
“You know what to do.”
My words caused him to lick his lips while reaching for my
cock that was a stretch beyond his bound domain. Hips thrust forward I watched
his kitten mouth open to engulf me. At first I let him nibble only the head,
teasing him by pulling back little by little until only his tongue could taste
me, craning his neck for even that.
Satisfied that he was completely entranced with my body, I
grabbed onto his hair. “Open.”
He did. His lips formed a perfect circle—an entrance in
which to dock my aching cock. There were no subtleties to the way I pushed
inside his mouth. There were no pats to the head. No, you can do this, kinds of
encouragement. I wanted to feel the head of my cock push past his comfortable
barriers—the narrow entrance of the back of his throat brush around my
sensitive skin.
He coughed, his eyes watered after a few seconds of no
oxygen, but his head followed my member as I pulled back to allow him air. Tate
wanted me, to please me, to let me have my way. In this and every way, Tate
Raymee was mine. Sex, trust, love—we had it all.
Fuck, I had become so emotional since meeting this man that
I was slowly losing my rougher edges. But if I had to choose my life before or
after him, it would always be after. It would always be him.
Thinking of love and precious sweet nothings while thrusting
into his mouth was much like the cold air that brushed his genitals while being
spanked—sensational. The connection our
eyes made, mine determined yet forceful, his submissive but full of love, made
me want to go right there. But I had other plans.
“One last taste, boy, make it good.” I pushed all the way in
and he stilled to relax. I held him there for a count of ten then let go of his
mouth, the rich warmth replaced by the cool hum of the air vent below. “Very
good, what do you say?”
“Thank you, Master,” he panted.
In reward, I gently ran the backs of my fingers over his
cheek before slipping back under his arms to position myself behind him.
Dominating was about giving and taking, but more so about being in control.
That didn’t mean the person on the other end didn’t enjoy praise, a job well
done. In Tate’s case, he needed it to continue.
Pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, I let him feel
my breath on his skin for a minute—goose bumps flowed across his back, along
his arms. I felt I had teased him enough this time. Hell, I’d teased myself
enough. His cock was so tight, hard as it bounced with his movements that I
just wanted to un-wrap the cuff and watch him go against the glass.
But I still wanted to bury myself inside of him in a way he
would never forget. Clicking open the lube on the floor, I drizzled it over his
ass, letting each thick droplet trail over his crack, making me salivate with
want. The lube bottle forgotten, I pulled the rubber sleeve over my cock with a
grin. Raised knobs and ribbing covered the bendable jelly—perfect for blowing
someone’s mind while fucking them senseless.
“For being so good, I’ve got a present for you, boy.” I
licked the back of his neck. His cheek pressed into the glass as he closed his
eyes. “One I think you’re really going to like.”
“Please, Master. I beg
you.”
“Now, how can I say no to begging? So fucking hot, you don’t
even know,” I growled in his ear, biting the lobe—pulling on it as I slipped my
sleeved dick in the crevice of his ass.
He tensed at the foreign feeling of synthetic on his body,
tried to move his head around, but I pressed him back into the glass. The lube
coated us both, the knobs rubbing his entrance over and over.
“You gonna take it, boy? Hmm, do you want this cock inside
of you?”
“Yes, Master.” His response was somewhere between a cry and
a plea.
I lined up the head of my cock to his ass. “Ready?”
“Fuck, yes,” he hissed. I couldn’t fault him for that one. I
was totally on the same page. Even if it would be a little tight, he wanted it
bad.
I covered his back, pressed the cool metal of my nipples
into his body, all the hair on my body brushing against his flawless skin as I
pushed inside.
A garbled cry left his lips, my dick stretching him wide—the
sleeve even more sensation on top of the slight pain of my entrance for him. He
was most likely entering another world. So was I. The further I inched in, the
more the jelly consumed his heat. Never having used the device before, it had
just made it to the top of the list.
“You think those fuckers are out there watching you?” I
groaned between laughing. “Let’s give em a show, baby. Take it hard for me.”
“Oh my God,” he moaned. “Holy hell.” His mouth opened wide.
His eyes shut tight.
“You like that?”
He bit his lip with a nod. “Fuck me.”
I pushed all the way in, skin to skin and he fisted his
hands with a cry. The knobs on the sleeve were no doubt activating nerves
inside him he didn’t even know he had. Somewhere inside, his prostrate was
singing like an angel, a glorious fucking hallelujah to the heavens. Fuck,
yeah.
I grabbed his cock in my hand, using my other arm to clutch
his waist to me as I pistoned into him. His legs curled around me from the
back, his toes clutching to the inside of my calves in a desperate attempt to
hold on for dear life. His cock was like nothing I had ever felt before. So
hard I swear it wasn’t human any longer, his balls turning some shade of purple
below.
The music surrounded us—his cries and my animalistic
breathing accompanying whatever the fuck was coming on over the speakers. Who
the hell cared about the music? The only thing I cared about was how his ass
clamped down me, how he twisted his head trying to watch me move in and out of
him, how just looking at me from the side made him moan.
Tate vibrated with energy, the need to release, but he
couldn’t—the vice below staving off anyplace to let it go. I was getting close
myself. If I timed it right, we could come together—give him a new reason to
clean the window with his tongue. The thought drove me harder into him. Like
two animals rutting, sweaty, howls, the scent of sex, I pushed that sleeve into
him harder than ever before.
My hands found his nipples, squeezing, twisting so hard at
one point he threw his head back and screamed with pleasure.
“I have to...I have to! Please!” He begged, slapping back
against my cock.
“Please what!” I growled into his back, biting the flesh
between my teeth.
“Please, Master! I need to come!”
Feeling my own release upon me—the dizzy feeling building in
my temples, the heat creeping through my body that had nothing to do with the
sweat pouring off of me, and the fire building in my balls, I nodded.
“Ready?”
He grabbed onto the curtain loops with a strangled cry.
“Yes,” he hissed.
I positioned my thumb under the metal clasp right below his
balls. His ass gripped me on the last thrust and I felt my balls lift. Seconds
before my own release, I flicked my thumb—the cuff around his genitals falling
to the floor.
Tate’s entire body shuddered, his release jetting against
the window. He wordlessly cried, his ass clenching me so hard, I wasn’t sure I
could ever detach myself from his body again. I filled him with my own liquid
heat, leaning on his body with only his wrists supporting us.
“Wow,” he finally whispered.
“Yeah, who knew cleaning the windows would turn me on.” I
started chuckling against his neck. He joined me until we were laughing so
hard, I had to pull out of him to balance myself.
“I’m washing the floors tomorrow if that’s the case,” he
teased as I freed his wrists.
“I was thinking more along the lines of vacuuming. I could
get you a frilly little apron. Damn, the image alone—”
“Fuck off.” He slapped my chest with a laugh. “I am not
wearing a damned apron.”
“You would if I told you to.” I waggled my brows. “Wouldn’t
you, boy?”
He flicked his eyes up to me, spreading his hands over
shoulders. “Maybe.”
“Wrong answer.” I flattened him onto the ground, covering
him with a growl.
He laughed as I licked his chest, hissed as I brushed over
his still sensitive cock. “Okay, okay I give!”
“Well?”
“Well what? His voice was teasing. His legs wrapped around
my hips.
“Sassy little thing.”
“Always.”
A moment built between us. Not about sex, not about the heat
of our bodies rubbing against each other. I knew it was love as sure as I was
breathing.
“I love you, Oliver,” he whispered, fingers running over the
back of my neck.
I pressed my forehead to his. “Vampires, tigers, and bears
included? Even though I’m part asshole and probably won’t get it all right.
Even though I still have no clue what next week is going to bring? Even though
I don’t know your favorite color or how you take your coffee? Even though—”
“Even though you’re not psychic, I still love you.”
“I’ll never get over you, Tate Raymee. You’re the one.”
“Good, because I’m not going anywhere. Pretty sure you’re stuck with me.”
“Baby, there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck on than you.”
I kissed his lips softly. “I really and truly love you, Tate. Happily ever
after and all that bullshit.”
“Do you have to be so crude during a moment like this?” He
smiled.
“I told you I’m part asshole. You got a problem with that,
Angry Squirrel?”
“Nope, guess not.” He slid his hands down the sides of my
chest. “Except for the part where you call me Angry Squirrel. I think we’ll
have to chat about that later.”
I slid down his chest with a grin. “And what if I don’t want
to?”
“Then I’ll refrain from cleaning for the next month. See
where that gets you.”
“Are you threatening me?” I opened my mouth with faux shock.
Tate Raymee, the very man who had changed my life, put his
hand over my heart with a soul stealing smile—a smile that caused me to lose my
breath.
“Yes, Master.”
The End
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1. I grew up in the deep South. A small town with an even smaller population. Moved up North with my family in junior high. Culture shock! Snow...ick. The year we moved up here, Michigan had the worst winter they had seen in over twenty years. Picture small southern girl with snow up to her shoulders. Yeah. Not cool.
4. I'm a music freak. In choir all my life, well, except for now. I can still remember all the words to Carmina Barana (O Fortuna) even though it's in Latin. When I'm not singing in Latin, laughs, I am attached to a source of music at all times--computer, iPod, CD player...something. I cannot write without music and a quiet house drives me crazy. Out of all the music I have accumulated, nineties grunge will always hold a special place in my heart. On a good day, Smashing Pumpkins-Rotten Apples, will play a full circuit at least three times. I've also played the piano since I was six and can sometimes manage an acoustic guitar, but it's not my favorite.
At restaurants I embarrass everyone at my table by telling the waiter how I like my coffee. It's not silly, it's just the way I like it. A small carafe of hot water on the side, leave the mug 1/4 empty, and bring me cream...lots of it. There is nothing wrong with this! Gah. If I'm paying for it, I want it how I want it, right? Apparently I'm supposed to take the coffee for lumberjacks with a smile and not say anything. *eye roll* lol
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7.I own around two hundred bottles of nail polish and my collection is forever growing. I'm slightly obsessed and can usually give the name of a color just by looking at it. It doesn't matter what brand. I've seen them all. I'm known at work as the polish whisperer. 
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