Page 15 of SummerTime Madness
It’s an honor that he used my thoughts to sell it off to a big corporation–that was nothing, but what they plan to do with the specimen would be groundbreaking, scary–so fucking life altering that I need in.
Not for them.
But for me.
Because I have even bigger plans, and for that, I would need to be right in the middle of the action. Tate’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
“Are you even listening?”
“I am.” I scowl, “ What do you want Tate?”
“I told you what I want, stop playing games with me,” he says through clenched teeth, his warm breath fanning over my lips, making me shiver with need.
For a small moment, the mask slips and behind all his anger–there’s the pain. His love all laid bare for me to see, but as quickly as it’s there, it fades.
“Tell the professor you are done, you don’t need it. Say you’re going to Bora Bora, whatever you fucking want, or else I’ll expose you and him.”
“And if I don’t?” I push him away, looking at my manicured nails, letting him simmer in his small victory–one I handed him. And who said I didn’t love my Tate?
“Cordelia,” he groans.
“I’ll do it,” I snap, turning on my heel when suddenly his warmth wraps around me like a blanket. His breath is hot on my neck as he leans in and bites me, causing me to arch into him–my body responding to his call, fitting perfectly.
“Tate, what are you doing?”
I try to steady my voice, but I know he heard the small crack that screams my need. The bite should have pissed me off but it didn’t–it made me wet.
“One more thing, Cordy. Next weekend, starting Thursday, you’re ours.”
I swallow.
“Ours?” I ask, playing dumb, which must have annoyed, maybe even irritated Tate, as he wraps his inked hand around my throat, his long hair falling on my exposed shoulder as his other hand hikes up the length of my red strapless dress.
“Ours, Cordy,” he breathes.
Narrowing my eyes, I study him, “What does it mean?”
It’s not like I hid the fact that Chase and I still fucked; of course we did. He belonged to me, and Tate did too. He just enjoys resisting, but I still hear him listening through the walls, fucking his hand wishing it was my cunt.
He inhales deeply. “What it sounds like,” is all he says.
Rolling my eyes, I whisper. “I can’t.”
“Find a way. We are going on a little trip,” he says before placing soft, tender kisses on my shoulder, causing me to arch even more, my ass pressing against the hardness hiding beneath his jeans.
“Why?”
“To let loose, Cordy. It’s a musical festival on an island.”
I knit my brows together. This wasn’t Tate’s idea; he hates large gatherings, so that means it’s my sweet boy, Chase.
“Fine, I’ll pull my application for the internship,” I say, pulling away again, but his hand reaches out, grabbing me by the wrist as he presses something. The screen in the garage turns on, and front and center is me wearing my little blue dress–the one Daddy got for me on a trip to Spain–and my professor,cock deep in my mouth. My core throbs, and I bite back the urge to smile because everything is so perfect.
“No, please. I’ll go.”
My lack of hesitation has Tate reconsidering, but his need to have us together wins, overruling his instinct to question me. But what's the worst that can happen at a stupid music festival… I can go have my fun and see what kind of specimen thrives on Luna Island.
Nothing screams opportunity more than isolation and fungi always thrive when no one is watching.
