Sweet Hill Homecoming (7 page)

He fumbled with something in his back pocket then returned with a condom. She moved her hand and he sheathed himself then gripped her ass.
 

In one fluid motion, he lifted her up like she weighed nothing, pressed her farther against the wall, and thrust home.
 

Mia gasped and clawed at his back. He stilled for a moment and kissed her neck, up to her ear and back to her mouth. He withdrew then thrust again and she was about to come right there. Surrounded by his strength, his intensity, she lost herself. Gave everything she was up to him and let him lead. She may have started this endeavor but Tatum made it clear he was finishing it.
 

“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” he rasped against her mouth. He pounded in and out of her harder. Faster. As if something snapped and he was determined to meld himself to her.
 

All Mia could do was let him hold her and have her. It still wasn’t enough. She was burning for more. She wanted every inch of her skin bare and his hands on it. She also wanted him completely naked so she could feel his muscles bunch and flex beneath her fingernails.
 

“More,” she breathed locking her legs around his waist.
 

He pressed his forehead against hers and looked her in the eyes. She gasped because of all the “more” she was craving, that was beyond anything she expected.
 

He fucked her against the wall but the way his dark eyes fixed on hers, it was the most exposed, the most vulnerable she ever felt.
 

He didn’t look away, and she couldn’t either. Every move, every touch, every breath…he was seeking her out. Calling to her soul. And Mia couldn’t escape. Didn’t want to. It was then it hit her: she had never looked into the eyes of a lover, and they never looked back.
 

Pleasure was spiraling and she was on the brink of losing herself.
 

He whispered against her mouth, “I feel you, Mia,” and buried himself to the hilt and stayed there.
 

Her eyes shot wide because he felt her come before she did. That one moment did her in. Every muscle shot tight and her body trembled as she came apart in his arms.
 

He clung to her even tighter. Watched her face as pleasure swept over her and she watched his.
 

“Mia,” he said her name and followed her over the abyss.
 

She’d never fallen so far, so hard, before. And she had a feeling that once she landed, it was going to sting.
 

Bad.
 

Chapter Four

“Slow down,” Luke said, running next to Tate.
 

Tate glanced at his jogging partner and eased his pace a little. Ever since he saw Mia flirting it up with any guy that came her way a few nights ago, he had a hard time sleeping and woke up irritated and needing an outlet.
 

Not to mention the sex that followed outside against the wall of the bar.

Jesus Christ what had he been thinking!
 

He knew exactly what he’d been thinking: Mia, in a skirt and boots, running that tempting mouth and goading him on.

It was the same thing he’d been thinking about for the past few days. He had lost his mind. The woman made him crazy and tapped into a side of Tate he didn’t even know was tappable. Then she literally tapped him.
 

She never faltered, never called him sweet or nice. Didn’t elude to his campaign or his worth as a potential Sheriff and town contributor. She just grabbed him by the cock and treated him like a man.
 

That stupid tremor he’d been trying to outrun shot back up his spine. A woman like Mia wasn’t sorry for a damn thing. Not that he wanted her to be. She obviously went for what she wanted. But he should have been more controlled than that.

When he wasn’t thinking about his lapse in judgment, or how her turquoise eyes went wide and starry when she came, or how she felt hot and wet all around him—cue tremor number two—he thought about how she left.

There was a few seconds of breathing. A couple brief heartbeats they clung to each other, then it was over. No exchange of numbers. No sweet goodbyes or promises to call. She simply slid down his body, and left him. With his damn pants down and walked away.
 

So…did he call her? It would be the gentlemanly thing to do, getting her number wouldn’t be difficult. Or maybe she specifically didn’t give him her number because it was just a fun Saturday night for her. Then again he hadn’t asked for her number either—

That’s it! He was disconnecting his phone! This battle of whether to call or not was ridiculous. Mia wasn’t his, problem, woman, or otherwise. But he needed to pound something. So he went with the pavement.
 

“Man, you are pissed about something,” Luke said, huffing and keeping pace as they made their way down Main Street.
 

The cold air burned Tate’s lungs and while the road was pretty quiet, Mrs. Moberly waved as they jogged by her jam shop.

“Just have a lot on my mind,” Tate said.
 

“Yeah, like Mia Blake?”
 

Tate shot Luke a look and upped his pace a fraction.
 

“I saw the way you were looking at her. How you got all grouchy and moody and stormed out the other night.”
 

“She’s got an attitude that irritates me,” Tate said honestly. “And a mouth that…”
 

That he wanted to bite. Kiss. Devour. He did all those things and it was the only damn image his mind kept churning out. He shook his head, hating for the millionth time in three days his thoughts.
 

“Oh, I know what kind of mouth she has. It looked like half the guys at the bar the other night knew it too.”
 

Tate’s blood heated and he knew Luke was fucking with him. Trying to get him to admit, what? That he liked her? No, actually at the moment, he couldn’t stand the thought of her. Mostly because the thought always turned into him trapping her against the nearest wall and kissing her so hard she took back her accusation of him “being on a power trip” then begging him for more.

Begging him for more?
Jesus
,
maybe with her he was having some kind of power trip.

Fuck you brain
. He internally cussed when more images from that night flashed again. He suddenly had the need to display the power he had. On her. It wasn’t just the sex he couldn’t stop thinking about. It was everything that came before.
 

Even from across the bar he had noticed the way her green eyes swept over him in appreciation. How her gaze paused on his chest, then his belt and back up to his face. In between shooting some mean glares his way, she was looking her fill last night and he knew it.
 

It was a game of wills. And Mia got the upper hand.

“That woman should come with a storm warning,” Tate growled, remembering how she licked a little bit of sugar from her bottom lip after finishing drink number two last night. Free drink number two he might add. He had his share of beers and if he were lying to himself, could blame his lapse of judgment on that. But he knew it was bullshit.
 

That kind of woman had no problem making friends, rather, man servants wherever she went. That much was clear. And Tate would be damned if he fell into that trap, only to return to being a sad sack hanging on her every demand.
 

Yet he was already a sucker. She demanded everything from him, and he gave it to her. Screwing a woman outside a bar where anyone could have seen wasn’t exactly electoral behavior. He was running for Sheriff for god sakes and how he acted was…

Primal.

More importantly, it couldn’t happen again.
 

“I think you should cut her some slack,” Luke said. “I guess the move back hasn’t been easy on her.”

Tate frowned. With each hit of his feet to the assault, his shins vibrated just enough to take notice on how hard he was actually stomping.

“I have a hard time believing Mia Blake has a hard time with anything.”
 

“She’s been Kyle’s guardian since their mom passed last year. She had to leave behind her job and life in the city.”

“Trust me when I say, Mia doesn’t have to do anything. She does what she wants.”
 

“Not when it started screwing with her brother’s life. I heard that she moved Kyle there to live with her and it wasn’t working out so well for him. So she quit her job and moved back here since it was the place he knew and wanted to be. But Annie says she keeps asking for more shifts. Guess money is tight.”
 

Tate let out a long breath and it had nothing to do with the last three miles he and Luke just put in. Slowing way down, he clutched his hips, shirt sweaty and sticking to his chest and faced Luke. If money was tight for her that could have been the reason she got so upset about the ticket.

“You really think she’s not the same cheerleader flashing a smile to get a favor girl?” Tate shook his head. “I saw her the other night. Hell, you saw her. She walks around with a sense of entitlement.”
 

But if Tate were honest, the moment he had been inside of her, she’d taken over his entire being. She’d owned him.

Luke grinned. “Some could say that about you.”
 

Tate scoffed. “We’re very different people.”
 

“Yeah, and people change.” Luke said. “Look, all I’m saying is a woman like Mia Blake is challenging, but she’s trying.”
 

Tate glanced at the gray sky. He was the first one to know how much people could change. Hell, his reflection was a daily reminder. Maybe Luke was right and Mia was trying. Giving up her job and moving here for her brother was a pretty selfless thing to do. Maybe they just got off on the wrong foot.
 

He checked his watch. “My shift starts in an hour. Gotta get going,” he said to Luke.
 

“Good talk, buddy,” he called after him.
 

Tate jogged toward the station. As if his mind wasn’t already full of Mia Blake, now his chest kind of was too.

~

Mia rushed through the double doors of Sweet Hill High, a place she hadn’t stepped foot in since she graduated eleven years ago, and nearly sprinted to the office. Shoving her purse strap up her shoulder, while her apron strings loosened and hit the back of her knees with every frantic stride, she finally made her way to the office.
 

She’d had a crappy weekend. By crappy she meant odd. Certain parts were amazing. Like Tate taking her against the wall like he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted her in the moment. But that left all kinds of unresolved, and frankly, unfamiliar feelings churning through Mia’s mind.
 

That was back burnered at the moment because it was only Tuesday afternoon and her heart was ready to beat out of her chest for a whole other reason.
 

“Where is Kyle? Is he okay?” she stuttered out, the fear of god successfully placed in her from a phone call she took from work only ten minutes ago.
 

Wanda, the same crotchety receptionist that had been there since she was in school, looked at her with bored yes, not bothering to acknowledge her further.
 

“I’m fine, Mia,” Kyle said and she leaned over the office counter to see Kyle sitting in a chair outside the principal’s office.
 

“No need for hysterics, Miss Blake,” Wanda said.
 

Mia wanted to scowl. The way she said, “Miss Blake,” took her past nostalgia all the way to bad memories. She’d sat in that same chair many times. Mostly for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And sure, some of the times she deserved some punishment. Like when she TP’d the vice principal’s house. But that was after he chewed her mother out and made less than nice innuendos.
 

“You called me and said there was a serious issue with Kyle. How do you expect me to react?”
 

Wanda just shrugged a little and went back to typing. Principal Williams came out of the office and looked at Kyle, then at Mia and frowned.
 

“Well hello again, Miss Blake,” he said. Great, so he remembered her. At least it wasn’t the vice principal that greeted her.
 

“What’s going on here?”
 

“Well, it appears that Kyle doesn’t feel art class is a sufficient enough place for expressing himself,” Principal Williams said walking around with Kyle to meet Mia in front of the office.
 

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Seems someone has spray painted a phallic symbol and some crude language in red on the side of the school.”
 

“And why are you accusing Kyle?” She glanced at her brother. “Did you do it?”
 

“No,” he said firmly and Mia knew right away her brother was telling the truth. He was a good kid and never could look her in the eye and lie to her.