Page 106 of Pucked Up Plans
She pulls back to peer at me. “And to let me know what to bring.”
“Sure, that too,” I appease her. My mother won’t ask anything of her. “I’m going to miss you. Miss this. Miss the way…”
“Stop talking and kiss me, Walsh,” she demands.
On her tiptoes, she meets me halfway, our lips crashing together as if this is our last kiss. And it will be for a while considering I don’t know when we’ll have another chance to be alone.
Each kiss from Tate stirs up emotions inside me, begging for more.
More kisses.
More emotion.
More everything.
Our tongues duel for control. Usually she gives it up easily, but she seems to want it now. I back off slightly, encouraging her to take the lead. Our mouths still connected, she leaps into my arms, immediately wrapping her legs around my waist. Her tongue delves deeper into my mouth, rubbing against the inside before assaulting my tongue. Will I ever get enough of this?
In my pants, my cock grows hard, the hint I need to break away.
Tate pouts, her eyes flying open at the loss. “Why did you stop?” I thrust my hips up, allowing her to feel the reason. “Oh. Yeah, I could see how that’s a problem.”
“You think?”
She giggles. “It still amazes me the effect I have on you.”
“Get used to it. I don’t see it changing soon.”
“Promise?”
“Yep.” I pop a last chaste kiss to her lips and slowly lower her down. “Hope Aubrey had fun at her sleepover.”
She perks up. “I can’t wait to hear how it went. Her call last night was too quick. Have fun at practice.”
“Thanks, babe. I will.”
I grab my bag from the floor by the door and wiggle my feet into my sneakers. As much as I don’t want to go, I can’t stay any longer. One last wave and I’m out the door, on my way to see my other favorite girl.
I let that sink in for a minute as I warm up my car.
Damn, I’ve got it bad for Tate.
Hope Lennon won’t mind sharing her top spot with a new person sometime soon. Or two.
That thought causes a stupid grin.
Lennon observes my skate bag the moment she walks through the door and disappears up the stairs. Out of curiosity, I follow her. She runs to my room and swaps the blankets, bringing hers to her nose, the scent appealing enough to warrant a smile. Back to her room to leave her blanket on her bed and grab her skating bag. It doesn’t even faze her as I watch from the hallway.
“I’m ready, Keeley. I skate too?”
“Most likely. But there’s going to be a team of other kids there who I’ll be helping. Mr. Kenny’s daughter will be there to keep an eye on you.”
“What’s her name?”
“Liliana. I think.” I scratch my head. “You know I’m not good with names.”
“Is she pretty like Tate?”
“I’ve never met her.”
