Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
She stalked me? “Okay …”
“It was harmless,” he says. “Don’t panic. Anyway, I saw a picture of you looking hot as fuck in your cheer uniform. And I’ve always teased Carys that I wanted to bang her hot stepmommy. Now I’m banging her hot stepmommy.”
“Never call me that again.”
He cackles. “New kink unlocked.”
“Stop it!”
“Wanna role-play?” He wiggles his brows. “You can—”
“Tate! Stop,” I say, trying not to laugh at his ridiculousness.
“You didn’t even hear me out.”
I sigh.
“You can call me Daddy if you want.”
I climb out of bed and cross my arms over my chest. “This isn’t funny.”
He grabs his cock and palms it. “You’re right. It’s hot as fuck.”
Tate walks toward me with a glimmer in his eye. I take a step back. Then another. His smile grows wider with each movement, and the pull in my core grows tighter.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say. He opens his mouth, but I can read his mind. “And don’t call me Mommy.”
He growls, still moving forward. “You’re taking the fun out of this.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing. My heartbeat picks up. “You’re making me nervous.”
He leaps forward, and I stumble backward, shrieking as I land on the bed. My ass lands in the pie plate and blueberry pie filling squirts everywhere.
“Tate! Wait!” I say, trying to warn him about the mess.
If he hears me, he pays no attention to it. He’s on me before all the syllables fall from my lips.
“Pie,” I say, looking at him hovering over me. “Sorry.”
He kisses me quickly and then rolls to the side. A sneaky smile graces his lips.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, scooping a blob of the filling with his finger. Then he dangles it over my naked chest, letting it fall between my breasts.
My chest rises and falls rapidly. I giggle. “What are you doing?”
“I have to clean up my messes, right, Mo—”
“Tate! Don’t you dare … ah!”
His tongue slides down my chest, lapping up the dark blue blob. His eyes stay trained on me as I wiggle beneath him.
His right palm is covered with the dessert, and he plants it just below my belly button. The mixture is sticky and soft. The entire room is perfumed like blueberries. Tate smears the mixture up my torso and my nipples, painting the buds with his fingertips.
“Oops,” he says, grinning devilishly.
“Right. Oops, my ass.”
“I can oops your ass.”
I shriek as he turns me over, smacks my ass, and blueberry pie goes everywhere.
“This is going to stain everything,” I say, laughing. “You’re nuts!”
He lies next to me, his hand resting on my backside. His smile lights up the room. Somehow, it shines on the inner corners of my heart—the parts that have been hidden in the shadows for far too long.
His kiss is tender and sweet, and I melt into him. But as he pulls away, his smirk is back.
“Ready to get eaten, Stepmommy?”
“Tate!”
His laughter mixes with mine. And if this is the kind of relationship Tate has in mind, I might be okay with it after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tate
Me: I need help.
I lean against the bathroom doorframe and watch Aurora sleep. I’ve never seen someone so peaceful. Not that I’ve ever watched someone else sleep.
It was hard for me to get out of bed and climb into the shower. What am I going to do when she wants to go back to her house? How do people handle this?
Why won’t she just marry me now?
My screen lights up.
Astrid: Weird bat call.
Me:
Astrid: What do you want?
Me: About 50 candles delivered to my house, please. I think I like amber and vanilla. Does that sound right?
Astrid: How in the world would I know what scents you like?
“I should’ve written that down somewhere,” I mumble.
Me: Go with that. Feel free to wing it with other stuff, too.
I glance up at my blueberry-stained sheets.
Me: I like blueberry.
Astrid: I officially know more than I ever wanted to know about you.
Me: You could sell that information.
Astrid: Oh my God.
Me: Can you have someone put them in one of my closets?
Astrid: Any specific closet?
Me: Nah. Whatever.
Aurora moves, the sheets slipping across her body. She’s so soft and delicate. I just want to protect her—to keep anything bad from ever happening to her. Again.
My jaw clenches as I turn back to my phone.
Astrid: Anything else while I’m doing the most random shit for you today?
Me: Yes. Thanks for asking. I need “fuzzy” blankets. Just toss them throughout the house.
Astrid: Size? Shape? Colors? Textures?
Me: Assorted. Assorted. Assorted but not white. Cozy.
Astrid: SO HELPFUL. Due date?
Me: Tonight by six-ish?
Astrid: I don’t get paid enough for this.
Me: I’ll get you a raise. All you have to do is ask. (I’m not Gannon.)
Astrid: Bye, Tate.
Me:
I glance at Aurora one final time, then finish getting ready for work.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tate
“How are you feeling?” I ask, finding Carys in the kitchen. She looks tired and paler than usual, but she’s upright. That's a good sign. “Sick of soup yet?”