Trouble by Nicole Angela & Society Salvation

Author:Nicole, Angela & Society, Salvation
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Thorns Press
Published: 2021-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tate

I’ve been awake for the last hour, just watching Hennie. Her beautiful blonde hair kisses my chest as she lays tucked into me. Last night was so much more than I could’ve ever imagined. And believe me, I’ve imagined making love to Hennie ever since we were teenagers. I knew she would be the only love of my life since then.

My peaceful sense of mind begins to wane as thoughts of Hennie being engaged to someone else creep in. I blame myself mostly for Hennie falling in love enough to want to marry. It never should’ve come to that. Had I only been quicker in reaching out, perhaps she and I would be married.

My heart aches at the thought of Hennie being like this with her fiancé, whoever the fucker was. I wonder if she let him do the things to her that I did last night. I tense at the anger I feel. Hennie must sense it because her gorgeous blue eyes flutter open, the same damn eyes which have haunted my dreams for the last ten years.

“Morning,” she whispers as she kisses my chest, sending my dick into a tailspin.

Kissing the top of her head, I return her sentiment.

“Tate?”

“Trouble?”

“I think we need to slow down a bit.”

I roll Hennie over, so she’s on top of me.

“You do, do you? Now, why should we do that?” I question as I kiss the inside of her neck. It’s the one place I know drives her crazy.

“Tate, please.” Her voice is a mere whisper begging me to either stop or continue, I’m not sure which.

Looking into her eyes, I can see she’s not sure either. So I hedge my bet and continue getting reacquainted with Hennie’s lips. She responds just as I had hoped. With my hands in her hair, I pull her in deeper.

I feel a moan come from my woman, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever felt. Her sound vibrates through my whole body as if teasing me to continue. And just as I’m about to take things a little further, my fucking phone goes off.

“Tate, your phone.”

“Fuck my phone.”

Hennie giggles against my mouth. “Get it. I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

I watch Hennie as she sways her hips while I inwardly plot the murder of whoever is on the phone. Reaching for my phone, I don’t recognize the number, but I answer anyway.

“Tate Palmer.”

“You have a collect call from a New York State Correctional Facility.”

I hit ‘end.’ My no-good son of a bitch father calls maybe once a year, and today’s the day he picks. Fuck him. I’m not going to let him spoil my time with Hennie.

“You okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, gorgeous, everything's perfect.”

Reaching around her waist, I pull her small body against mine, remembering how she felt and tasted last night. Her hands clasp around the back of my neck as she pulls my mouth down to meet hers. But what I anticipated as a long lingering kiss is more of a gentle reminder of just how precarious this situation is.

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