Page 30 of Fighting Gravity

His promise spread through her body like wildfire. Tate brought her chin down so they were eye to eye, lip to lip.

“I don’t want to wait. But I can’t be your whole world. I’m not ready for that.”

She could see that her admission hurt him, but he nodded. He moved his mouth to the pulse of her neck. Rosie moaned as his tongue teased her. “Tell me what you like,” he whispered. Under her shirt, his hands slid up her back.

“You,” she answered.

She felt him smile. “Tell me what you want.”

“Same answer.”

17

Tate hadn’t expected to feel his life click into place when the arresting redhead walked into his hangar for the first time. He hadn’t meant to fuck Rosie on his plane. Hehadplanned on worshipping her body tonight, but worshipping her right fucking now was even better. Rosie was a surprise, every inch of her, every corner of her mind.

She wanted to forget? Good. Tate wanted to give her amnesia. Starting now.

He cupped Rosie’s heart-shaped face in his hands. He kissed her forehead first. But then her lips were his. His dick started to swell as soon as their tongues met. Her soft noises would signal his demise, he was sure of it.

He broke away from her lips. “Bedroom,” he demanded, breathless.

Rosie blinked a few times and nodded.

Tate practically dragged her down the hall to his room. She backed up to his bed with him close behind, magnetized to her sex-filled eyes and warm body. His shirt was over his head and on the floor in seconds. Rosie sucked in a breath. Tate paused, a smile spreading. She’d never seen his body before. Her eyes traversed his pecs down to his waist, and Tate felt every inch of it.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” she said.

“Entirely mutual,ma belle.”

Her fingers connected with his abs, making his muscles twitch. His hands went to her hips as she gained confidence to explore with more pressure, more possession. He wondered if she could possibly know how much of him belonged to her. It made no sense, feeling what he did so soon, when he never thought he’d feel this kind of connection at all.

Her shirt disappeared. Tate unhooked her bra and added it to the pile on the floor. The tumble of vibrant hair against her creamy skin filled his blood with need. He wanted to taste those perfect, tiny nipples again, but he needed her on her back so he could feel her full-body reaction when he did.

Tate yanked off her jeans and underwear, then his. Rosie was panting like she’d finished a marathon. Tate wasn’t much more controlled. Lithe and long-limbed, she was a fucking dream. Light freckles peppered her chest. Her blush-pink nipples called to his tongue. The contours of her long torso begged to be covered in kisses. Fully nude and inches away, she reached a hand out to stroke his cock.

“Fuck,” he moaned, leaning his forehead against hers as their fevered skin blended together. He ran a hand down her soft-as-satin backside, the fullest, roundest part of her body.

“We have to soon or I might die. I’ve never wanted anyone so badly, Tate. I don’t know—”

He pushed her onto the bed and followed, pulling a nipple in his mouth. Her cry and delicious arch were exactly the reactions he wanted. Her desperate grinding into his hips was a happy surprise. Tate kept sucking her nipples and sliding his cock over her wet folds, punctuating with words and touches to let her know how much he wanted her, how grateful he felt.

He could tell from her unraveled sounds that Rosie needed more. She needed everything.

Tate released her breast and flipped her onto her stomach. He traced his large, tan hands over the outline of her, then coaxed her up onto her knees and spread her legs. He couldn’t hide his smile as his hands explored her back, ribcage, and hips. Rosie leaned into his worship, sighing and arching, her hair silken against his chest. He slid his hands to her front, ghosting over her small, taut breasts, down her flat stomach, and ending in the slick folds between her legs. He began his soft assault there, his lips on the side of her neck. She clutched his fingers in deeper and moaned his name. Tate felt her whispered words all the way down to his cock. When he brought his free hand up to pinch her nipple, she screamed and shoved her backside against him.

That was it for Tate. He kissed her shoulder blade and reached into his nightstand for a condom. Situated, he moved back into position. He worked her clit and nipple to the sexiest soundtrack he’d ever heard.

As Rosie’s cries grew higher and louder, Tate sank inside her from behind. Rosie gasped and pushed against him, bringing him deeper. They called to God at the same time.

He didn’t move his hips. He lost himself in the tightness, therightness, of Rosie’s body as his fingers continued loving her.

Then Rosie started to move. She moaned his name again and again as she slid up and down his cock and moved against his chest like a dancer. Minutes later, her walls tightened around him. By reflex, Tate pulled her hips closer. She went silent before she screamed her release, bucking wildly.

Panting, she collapsed in front of him. Tate let his hands roam and fucked her slowly, reverently, drinking in the pleasure. This was a new kind of sex for him, of both the body and mind. He felt his release building. Rosie encouraged him with words, with movements meant to bring him higher. The orgasm touched every part of his being. He chased it without speed until it broke him.

He didn’t let go of her for a long time. He kissed down her back, spread his hands across her thighs. Reminded her how much he loved her breasts. Then he flipped Rosie onto her back and kissed her until they fell asleep tangled together.

They stayed in bed most of the day. They made love one more time, but mostly, they lost themselves to pillow talk. She never saw the library or mentioned the pool. Tate fell harder with each passing hour.

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