Page 41 of Fighting Gravity

Small nod.

Good. Warmer. “Tell me,” he urged.

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know if I can.”

Tate rose to lock the door. The blinds were already closed. He approached her, walking behind the desk to where she sat. He held out his hand and she took it. “You’re safe with me,” he promised. “Always. If you can’t tell me, you’ve got to show me.”

She nodded. Still gripping his hand, she perched on the edge of the desk and pushed the chair away with a stiletto-clad foot. When she slowly spread her legs, Tate understood. She wanted him to go down on her. Here. Lust slammed into his body, heating him from head to toe. “I’d love nothing more,” he told her.

“Really?”

Tate shook his head, baffled. “Do you not understand yet that I would do anything to make you happy? You spread out in front of me, mine for the taking, for the pleasing, is a fucking dream come true.”

He knelt in front of Rosie, reveling in her quickening breaths. Tate was already swollen to the point of pain. He lifted her dress up to her waist and nipped a trail up the inside of her thighs. Silky and lightly scented, her skin had quickly become his favorite texture. Trying to be tender, Tate hooked his fingers around her underwear. She assisted by lifting her hips. He slid the satin down her slim thighs, past her knees and her charcoal pumps. Suede with spikes on the back. Soft with a surprising side, like her.

He grasped her waist to move her closer to the edge. Then he scissored his fingers to part her folds. Every inch of Rosie was fucking flawless. She cried out and gripped his hair when his tongue found her sensitive spot. He kept his free hand on her hip to keep her close. She was slick and sweet, and Tate lost himself in her pleasure as she undulated against his mouth. He swirled and sucked and snuck glances at her face. She moved to lie back, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to watch. Wanted her to know that he’d kneel for her anytime she asked. He moved his hands to clamp down on both of her wrists and keep her upright. Her hooded eyes dropped to his as Tate dove in deeper with his tongue.

Their eyes were locked as she came undone. Tate figured it topped his life’s hottest moments, but then she stood on trembling legs and brought him to standing with a finger under his chin. She pushed him gently to the desk and removed his belt without asking. She knelt, gripping his cock while Tate’s hand tangled in her ponytail as she gave what she’d been given. Watching Rosie come was equally as hot as watching her work his cock with her mouth. Of course, he’d fantasized about this. Of course, her moves, her hums, her gaze, were sexier than anything he’d pictured while alone.

Tate rocked his hips in rhythm with her hands and mouth, not bothering to keep his voice down. The full-body high started in his toes and sailed upward. His orgasm pushed him to standing, gripping her head as she drew pleasure unlike any he’d known. He roared his release into the empty office. Then he kissed Rosie’s beautiful, swollen mouth.

“Merci, ma belle.”

“I could say the same.”

When their clothes were resituated, Tate pulled her into his arms. He was drained of everything but gratitude. “Do you have to leave?”

She nodded. “If I don’t…”

Tate sighed. If Rosie stayed, she’d be admitting she didn’t want leave. To her, that admission was too dangerous. He didn’t know what she was waiting for, which clue or sign or milestone. He didn’t know what to say or do or fix to get the woman he was falling in love with to see them for what they were.

22

Rosie floated into work on Monday.

She’d heard from Elle over the weekend. Their time in Vegas with her family had gone splendidly. So well, in fact, she was thinking of proposing to Chen.Proposing. What the two of them shared was real, though not everyone might think so. They hadn’t been dating long, and Chen did need permanent residency. Rosie knew she’d be glued to her phone all week waiting for the text from Elle that she’d popped the question.

She had her own reasons to be happy as well.

Rosie couldn’t shake the memory of Tate’s soft grip on her thighs, his sweet words, and even sweeter tongue. She appreciated that he wanted to make every annoyance or inconvenience disappear. The bloom in her belly, the tight spot that clenched with unnamable feelings around him, was becoming distracting. And no less scary. She couldn’t name the feeling, but Selah, likely intentionally, had planted a seed in her mind during their last session.

Have you ever been in love?The casual question had thrown Rosie. No, she’d told Selah. She’d dated Levi in college, but even after two years their relationship hadn’t felt serious. She’d never met his parents. She wasn’t sad when he moved back to Iowa. He’d been fun to date, a decent sexual partner, and nothing more.

Now she couldn’t stop applying Selah’s words to the concentrated emotion in her stomach.

But she couldn’t be in love with Tate. No, if she loved him, she’d be able to stay the night at his house again, or invite him to her apartment. The ball of feeling was likely just some sort of chemical thing. Tate was the first man to give her what she wanted physically. Orgasms that redefined the word, a safe space to explore, the full giving of himself that she craved. Tate did not hold back with her.

Of course that would have some lasting effects. After acknowledging that she’d fallen under a sex spell and nothing more, Rosie felt marginally calmer. Insane attraction was a level of danger she could handle. Love? Not so much.

Her team had already gathered in the conference room for their Monday morning huddle. She was running late because she’d stopped for pastries and coffee. Her staff descended on the boxes like vultures when she set them on the table. Rosie selected a chocolate croissant for herself and listened attentively as everyone updated the team on what they were working on for the week. The biggest push, of course, would be the OrbitAll project.

“Hotel Astra for the name,” Gigi said. “What do we think? Astra means star. And, you know, that line from Virgil.Sic itur ad astra.‘Thus one journeys to the stars.’”

“I love that name,” Rosie said.

Anne nodded primly. Colton shrugged, Andrew was checking his phone, and Henry smiled around a donut.

“Great. I’ll bring it up to Tate. Gigi, can you please design an entry sign? And Colton, can you add Gigi’s sign to the rendering? I’ll bring the updated rendering to the meeting on Friday.”

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