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Someone yelled out, “it’s about fucking time!”
It turned out that the only people that Tate and I had been fooling were ourselves.
We looked at each other and tried not to smile but it was useless.
“Okay, thank you,” Tate held up his free hand in mock surrender. “Now that everyone knows our business, can we let it go, and get to work?”
And we did.
The day was like any other on set.
We filmed, we flubbed, and we did it again until we got the take.
Afterwards, we headed to our favorite pub for dinner. No one paid us any particular attention. Not that I noticed. I was too busy pinching myself that me and Tate were real.
Tate seemed to relax as the day wore on, but I was still watchful.
Until we made it home that evening and Tate showed me exactly how he was feeling.
I’d barely had time to say goodbye to Korry and close the door when Tate all but pushed me inside the house.
Next thing I knew, I was stumbling into the foyer, my back hitting the wall as Tate took ownership of my mouth.
A shiver wracked my body from head to toe. Possessive Tate was hot as fuck.
“I’ve wanted to do that all damn day,” Tate whispered in between deep, drugging kisses. “You were right there, so close, so fucking tempting. It was all I could do not to pull you into that dressing room and fuck you over the makeup table.”
Desire pooled low in my belly.
“Tay.”
Without hesitation, I dropped to my knees and unzipped his pants. I shoved his briefs down and pulled out his cock, already rock hard and leaking pre-cum.
His cock was long and thick, fucking gorgeous, and all mine.
“Fuck, shit, goddamn it,” Tate bit out.
I chuckled. “That’s a lot of swearing.”
Leaning forward, I gave his cockhead one provocative lick, watching the feral expression on his face.
“It’s warranted because watching you touch my dick is… fucking hell, Reed. It’s the hottest thing ever.”
His hands were shaking as he gripped my hair, tugging me closer.
“Then fuck my face, love. Don’t hold back,” I demanded.
His taste was salty, musky, so fucking good that I was ravenous, swallowing him down in one smooth glide. Thank God for no gag reflex. Plus, I was damn proud of my blowjob skills. And Tate’s responding groan spurred me on.
I wanted to drive him out of his mind. I wanted to wreck his control and give him all the pleasure.
Bobbing my head, I swallowed again, sucking his dick like my life depended on it.
He was moaning now, incoherent. His hands tightened on my hair and his hips punched forward, pushing his cock down my throat.
My knees were on fire, my jaw ached, and saliva ran down the sides of my mouth. I didn’t care what I looked like. The only thing I wanted was for Tate to let go, to unleash in my mouth.
Gripping the base of his dick, I sucked and swallowed faster, my rhythm faltering only when he chanted my name.
