Chapter 10

I may not be everyone’s cup o’ tea, but I’m too busy enjoying my beer to give a shit.

-Text from Tate to Hennessy

Hennessy

That morning, I had no idea that I was about to be a bad, bad girl.

All I knew was that I was dressing up, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was doing it only for him.

“Are you sure that you want to do this?”

I was Facetiming with my best friend, and she was shaking her head.

“I’m sure,” I said, fastening the corset. “I’m sure that I need to wear this.”

I wasn’t sure why.

Maybe just the need to don body armor, to make myself feel pretty despite the fact that I’d never cross that line between patient and medical professional.

One could daydream, though.

“At least wear a shirt over it that makes it to where you can’t see it,” she said. “And for God’s sake, if you’re going to wear stockings, make sure the skirt is long enough to hide them.”

I grinned and held up my long pencil skirt that I’d just bought yesterday on the way home from work.

“I’m so proud that you’re growing up,” she admitted, smiling at my first purchase without her. “But you need to be careful, here. I don’t think your judgement can be trusted when it comes to Tate Casey.”

I wasn’t sure it could either.

He’d always been my weakness.

“It’ll be okay,” I told her. “He has exactly eight more weeks of time left with me. That’s sixteen more visits. I can do it.”

I hoped.

“All right.” She sighed. “If you need anything today, call me. I know you have a full schedule.”

I did.

Tate was my first appointment at eight thirty. Then I had a full patient load until four that afternoon, when I had a doctor’s appointment for my yearly vagina check.

I literally wouldn’t have time to eat until I got home at six or so tonight.

I’d overbooked myself, but honestly, I was okay with that.

At first, I hadn’t thought that Hostel would benefit from having a psychologist in town. I’d been surprised, though, when on my first day of being open, the judge had declared that any referrals needed from the county jail would now be on my plate.

From there, it’d just spiraled, and I now had a full patient load.

I was making money, and paying off stuff that I thought would take years to pay off.

“Will do, friend,” I said, smiling at Krisney. “What are you doing today?”

She grimaced. “I have to call a tow. My car broke down.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but she interrupted me. “No, I don’t need a ride. I’m at home today, and have no plans to go anywhere. I just need it fixed, and the easiest way to do that is by having someone come get it and take it to the mechanic.”

I shut it just as fast.

Before she hung up she yelled, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Then there was nothing but dead air in my ear.

Sighing, I yanked the corset off, reached for a simple white V-neck camisole, paired it with the new skirt I’d bought yesterday, and settled with simple flats, and a soft, baby blue cardigan.

Once I was as dressed as I was going to get, I went to the bathroom and started on the makeup.

I didn’t know how to do makeup—that was Krisney’s forte.

However, I gave it my best shot, and ended up with lip gloss, mascara, and a light gray color of eyeshadow that had glitter in it shading my eyelids.

It was very simple, but it helped my pale white skin look less ghost-like, and more presentable.

I’d just stepped out of my house and locked the door when I looked over at the house across the street and the breath stalled in my lungs.

Tate was there, standing beside his bike, staring at something. Something that I couldn’t see, but he was definitely interested in.

My brows furrowed as I took the steps down the walk, and then I tripped over a large book that was on the ground.

“You Need Jesus,” I read aloud. “I need Jesus?”

“You got one, too?”

My eyes went from the book lying on the ground, to the man that was now straddling his motorcycle.

“You mean the ‘You Need Jesus’ book that was on my front walk?”

He nodded.

“Then yes, I got one, too.” I smiled, trying not to seem too overly eager to talk to him.

I wanted to lay my head against his chest and listen to the rumble of it while he spoke, but that would probably be one of those patient/doctor boundaries that I probably shouldn’t cross.

“See you there,” he muttered, then started his bike.

I bit my lip as I watched him ride away, and wondered if I could take a picture of him the next time I saw him get on his bike.

I was in this ‘Beard Watch’ group on Facebook, and each time someone from the group saw an exceptional beard that they loved, they snapped a picture and posted it.

See, I wasn’t all that great at it like some people were.

The group admin’s mother was good. She’d walk right up to a bearded man and take a photo. Me? I’d be willing to take them through the blinds of a restaurant, but if it required me to actually interact with said bearded man, then I’d freeze.

I got embarrassed easily, and when I got embarrassed, I forgot how to use my tongue.

Hence why I sucked at doing anything outside of work.

I was a social pariah.

Annoying, but true. I got into the car and started it up, making the drive to the office in ten minutes, and still beat Tate there.

Deciding that he’d gone to grab a coffee or something, I pulled my office keys out of my purse and started walking, head down, to the front door.

That’s why I never saw him coming until it was too late.

“Bitch.”

I looked up to find my date, Tad, standing there with a look of pure fury in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Tad.” I hesitated. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”

“You knew I didn’t want to eat tacos,” he hissed. “But you said, ‘this is my favorite place. You have to try it,’ and I caved. It’s all because of your stupid, stupid eyes.”

My eyes? What?

“I don’t know what you’re speaking of,” I admitted. “But I have an appointment in less than five minutes, so I’ll have to finish this discussion later.”

“You’ll finish it now, bitch.”

He wrapped his hands around my arm and squeezed.

For a little dude, he was surprisingly strong!

I yanked my arm away from his grip and took a step back.

Then he lunged.

I stepped back, but it proved unnecessary when a hand wrapped itself around Tad’s shirt and yanked him back before he could take even one threatening step in my direction.

Tad squealed. Literally, squealed. Like a tiny little pig picked up when he didn’t want to be.

“I know that you weren’t about to do anything to the good doctor here,” came Tate’s chilling admonishment. “Because if you were, I might very well have to defend her.”

Tate let Tad go, and the way he was straining to get away caused him to fall away with the resistance he was no longer being provided.

He hit the ground with a dull thud, but caught himself on his hands and knees.

“Fucking worthless cunt,” Tad growled, making his way back to his feet. “You made me throw up all night long!”

“Why?”

“Because you made me eat cow!”

My brows furrowed, and I couldn’t quite grasp the link of him eating cow to me making him eat cow.

“She didn’t make you eat cow, you dumbshit,” Tate said. “That was an honest screw up on the waitress’s part. You can’t honestly be dumb enough to think that Hennessy would’ve done that to you on purpose, can you?”

Tad’s face went mottled with rage.

“I’ll have you know that I was a perfect vegan until yesterday. You can’t begin to understand the cruelty to animals that goes into making the products that you heathens consume on a daily basis.”

Tate frowned at him.

“I assure you that I don’t like the way that animals are treated, either. However, you’re not a perfect vegan. I read on Google last night that cheese used to be made using cow intestines,” Tate drawled. “And let’s not forget that it’s made out of milk. You know, the thing that comes from cows? You were eating cheese tacos all last night before you ever ate the ‘cow.’ If you were a true vegan, you’d know what your cheese was made of, and why you ‘can’t’ eat it.”

Tad turned his angry eyes on Tate and started to sputter out a dispute.

“What are you talking about?” Tad hissed, pointing at me. “You’re a fucking cunt liar, and you’re just a big cunt douchebag.”

I wanted to beat my head against the wall.

I was glad that I only suffered through one and only one date with the man. There was no way, with that attitude, that anything would ever have worked out between us.

“I hate the word cunt.”

Tad bared his teeth at me.

“You’ll hear from my lawyer.”

I frowned, but before I could ask him ‘for what?’ he was already gone.

“Well, that was fun,” I muttered, brushing invisible lint off my shirt.

Tate snorted.

“You’re lucky I was here.”

I thought so, too.

“I didn’t think you were, to be honest. I didn’t see your bike.”

He pointed to the tow truck that was sitting beside the building, barely visible but for the back bumper. “Went to get the truck so I can leave for a job after this.”

I bit my lip and nodded, making my way to the front door, and opening it.

I felt his heat at my back, but I didn’t turn. Didn’t do anything.

Didn’t dare.

Not with the way my hormones were practically urging me to do naughty things with the man, and screw anyone or anything that tried to stop me.

“You want me to get those blinds?”

I shook my head and gestured to the door. “No. I don’t want to see him outside if I can help it. Not to mention my father shows up at the worst possible times, ruining our sessions. You can lock that door. We’ll open it after you leave, that way nobody knows that you’re here.”

Tate shrugged and dropped the string he’d been holding to hoist up the blinds.

Then he stalked toward me.

“You want some coffee before we get started?”

My question had him tilting his head.

“No, I had two cups before I got out of the RV this morning,” he answered, taking his regular seat on the leather couch. “Is there anything you want to start with in particular today?”

I bit my lip and looked away, realizing rather quickly that the man was wearing tight blue jeans that hugged his hips—and his package—rather deliciously.

The shirt he had on clung to his chest, and I wasn’t sure that I could make it all the way through this session without involuntarily coming.

Not with the way I wanted him. Not with how he’d saved me earlier. Not with the way he was looking at me—like he wanted to eat me alive.

Shit, shit, shit!

I took a seat and crossed my legs, very much aware of the increase in sensation when I did that.

The clench of my thighs sandwiched my clit between the lips of my sex, and I had to tell myself, multiple times, not to squirm. Although it’d feel good, it was nearly impossible not to know what the hell was going on—what I was doing—on Tate Casey’s end.

This is so inappropriate, I thought morosely.

Tate shifted in his seat, his eyes hot and on me, as he waited for me to begin.

Though, that was just how Tate was. So freakin’ intense that sometimes it was hard to get two words strung together that made any bit of sense.

I uncrossed my legs and crossed them on the other side. His eyes tracked my movements.

“We’re going to start today off a little differently.” I cleared my throat. “If you had to choose one thing to never happen, whether it affected you or the world in general, what would it be?”

He pursed his lips, then casually crossed his arms loosely over his belly. His feet were stretched out in front of him, partially covered by the coffee table that was separating us.

“Anything?”

I nodded. “Anything.”

He tapped his fingers loosely on the opposite hand and lowered his brows in concentration.

“Rape.”

“Not murder?” I asked curiously.

He shook his head. “No. Sometimes murder is a good thing.”

I tilted my head. “How do you figure?”

“Have you ever heard of assisted suicide?” he questioned.

I nodded.

I had. Texas wasn’t one of the states that allowed it, but it was definitely something I’d heard about while going to school, as well as in the news and on Facebook.

“That’s a type of murder,” he explained. “If those patients weren’t able to get help, they’d live a painful life however long they had left to live it.”

I nodded, understanding where he was coming from.

“Any other examples?”

He had me curious.

He laid his arguments out well, and had backup and proof for everything he gave me. It was an amazing thing to have a man that could verbally spar with me.

“Well, say that you were young…a kid,” he said. “Say that you walked in on your sister being raped.”

My stomach clenched.

I knew where he was going with this, and the anger at what Tate had to go through as a young child, and was then expected to live with it, was a harsh reality that I’d never been able to see past.

I hated Tate’s mother. I hated my father for not doing anything about what had happened to Tate’s sister, Alyssa. I hated the town for not forcing the police force to follow through.

Alyssa hadn’t been anywhere near our age. She’d been in high school when her boyfriend of six months had gotten tired of waiting, and had decided that it was time for Alyssa to give up what she’d been flaunting.

Alyssa hadn’t been flaunting anything. Alyssa had been a normal teenage girl.

However, Alyssa’s boyfriend had decided that no didn’t mean no, and proceeded to rape her in her bedroom. All the while, Alyssa’s brother—Tate—had been in the next room.

Tate, at age eight, had gotten hungry and went to find his sister to see if she would cook for him. What he’d found when he’d come into the room was a sobbing Alyssa, and a still in the process of raping her, boyfriend.

Tate had tried to intervene, not quite understanding the repercussions of what he saw, but he’d tried to help anyway. He’d gotten a fist to the face for his trouble, and had passed out.

Once Alyssa’s boyfriend had stopped, he’d left. Alyssa had then had to take not just herself, but her brother, to the hospital.

Then, two months later, she found out that she was pregnant with his kid.

It was rumored that Alyssa had then tried to kill herself, but nobody besides Tate and maybe his mother knew the truth.

“Walked into that room, and what I saw will forever haunt my brain,” he said. “My eight-year-old self was able to twist what I did see, and now every time I get into a similar situation that reminds me of it I black out. My rage is over the top, and off the charts. I can’t seem to control anything—not even my mouth. But here’s where I think murder can be good in certain situations.”

I paused and waited for what he’d say next. Would it make me smile? Would I agree with him? Would it be morally and ethically wrong, and would I have to delve into this further?

As all of these questions filtered through my brain, I was left blinking stupidly when he said what he did next.

“I witnessed my sister try to kill herself four times.”

My eyes closed, and my pen stopped doodling on my paper.

“The second time, I stopped her, she screamed at me. She told me that I was selfish.”

I bit my lip.

This man wasn’t selfish.

“The fourth time, she was days away from having her baby.” He paused. “And that was the day, at the age of nine years old, that I knew that sometimes killing someone was okay—sometimes this Earth can’t handle them—can’t make them whole again. Sometimes, it’s the most humane thing to do, let them go.”

“I’ve wanted to kill Duncan Trey every day for the last twenty plus years.” He paused. “He’s the reason I have never met my nephew. He’s the reason my sister refuses to have anything to do with me. He’s the reason that I am the way I am. He’s the reason that I can’t fuckin’ sleep at night.” He looked at me sharply. “I’ve witnessed seven girls get raped, as well as two men.”

My belly churned.

“Most of those I saw while I was overseas in the military,” he added. “And most of them were men doing that to their wives—though it’s okay over there. The woman is supposed to do what the man says she has to do. If she doesn’t, she can be punished for her sins.”

I bit my lip, trying hard not to interrupt him. This was the most I’d ever gotten out of him in one session.

“The good thing, though, was that all of those men were living on borrowed time. One by one, they all went down by either my hand, or somebody else’s hand, until there was only one left—my sister’s rapist.”

“You won’t…”

His smile was fierce. “I won’t. But I want to.”

I licked my dry lips. This was toeing the line for me…I was at a point where I needed to make a decision.

I needed to either allow this one to go untouched, call his probation office, and tell them that this man wasn’t going to be fixed in just twenty something sessions. Or, I needed to let it go.

“Heavy thoughts?” he teased.

I shrugged.

“What I’m thinking is that you’re a very strong man.”

He laughed and looked away, and I chose that moment to stand up and walk to my desk where a Keurig was sitting.

“Coffee?”

He grinned but shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Thank you, though.”

I half-heartedly smiled at him and started myself a cup, waiting for the man to say he was through with this session.

When he didn’t, however, I realized that he didn’t plan on going anywhere.

He was giving me the answers today, because something had changed.

“Tate?”

He’d never once taken his eyes off of me.

“Yeah?”

His voice was rough, and for the first time today, I took everything about him in.

“Tate…”

“Hennessy.”

I took a step forward.

“Are you even a little bit apologetic?” I asked, trying to keep myself from taking that next step.

He shook his head so slowly that it was almost impossible to misunderstand.

“Prison sucked ass,” he admitted. “However, that little girl is fifteen now, has a boyfriend, and is alive right now because of me.”

I bit my lip.

“Probably should be sorry.”

I nodded.

“But I’m not.”

No, I could see that he wasn’t.

“As the person in charge of your case, and the anger management issues, I should be encouraging you to never think the way you’re thinking right now.”

He shrugged.

“But…”

“But,” I exhaled slowly. “But I’m not going to. There’s no reason to.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t say I don’t agree with you,” I answered. “I would’ve probably done the same thing, being in your position.”

His lips tipped up.

“I’d hope that if you were ever put into a situation like that, that you wouldn’t do anything as stupid as I did,” he drawled. “Otherwise you might get that pretty little head hurt.”

He thought my head was pretty?

“Pretty little head?”

His lips twitched.

“And that cute fat ass.”

My mouth fell open.

“It’s not fat.”

His eyes went to my hips.

“No, you’re not fat. Your ass though? It’s not fat, fat. But it’s fat. Round. I bet it would take my hips pounding against it like a pro.” He paused. “Would like to see it flaming red from my hand smacking it, too.”

I swallowed.

That was when I noticed that I wasn’t across the room from him anymore, but standing near the edge of the couch—only a scant few feet away from him.

I swallowed and started to step back, but his hand reached out and snagged my wrist, halting my backward retreat.

“You know something, Ms. Hanes?”

I swallowed again, and shook my head.

The feel of his long, strong fingers wrapped around my delicate wrist was my undoing.

I never knew that a touch on my wrist could feel like an electrode was connected straight to my clit, but damned if I wasn’t pressing my thighs together to alleviate the ache.

His eyes missed nothing.

“What do I know?” I whispered hoarsely.

“I know that this thing between me and you will never work.”

I frowned, anger that he’d write us off before we even started simmering in my belly.

Before we’d even started? What the hell, Hennessy?

“Wanna know why I know that?”

I swallowed and nodded.

“It’s not what you think,” he said.

I cleared my throat.

“What do I think?”

“You’re thinking that this is a patient doctor line that shouldn’t be crossed.”

I nodded faintly. It was. Very much so.

“But that’s not what’ll ruin us.”

“What will ruin us?” I questioned.

He grinned. “We will.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“You’re the preacher’s daughter. I’m the son of the town whore.”

I bit my lip.

He was speaking the truth.

Everyone knew who I was, and everyone knew who he was. Neither of us denied that fact.

“You’re all sunshine and giggling unicorns. A doctor that the whole entire fucking town can’t help but love, and I’m the dark, dangerous man that’s been to prison. That has killed someone. Nobody but my own crew likes me. You’re sweet honey, and I’m gasoline. Highly flammable and something that everyone is wary of.”

“I like the smell of gasoline,” I blurted.

His lips twitched.

“We’re gonna do this once, and once only.”

He pulled me closer, and by God if I didn’t do what he asked without protest.

“Straddle my hips.”

He’d see my garter belt. My stockings. The ones that I wore for him.

Oh, fuck.

I shook my head.

“What we’re about to do could ruin my career.”

His smile was sort of scary.

“How’s your heart?”

I placed my free hand to my chest, and felt it beating. “It’s racing.”

He smiled at that news. “What about your cunt?”

I shivered.

That word, coming from his mouth, would be my undoing.

“My vagina is…wet.”

Why was I being so honest with him?

“Do you ever say cunt…or pussy?”

I shook my head.

I tried really hard not to curse. The worst word I used was hell or damnation.

Being the daughter of a preacher was one way to stop yourself from using those kinds of words.

It’d been touch and go in college, but I’d managed to stay strong.

This man, though? He had the power to make me do anything, and I think he always had.

“What about cock?”

I shook my head, my eyes going to where his fingers still wrapped around my wrists to keep myself from looking at his lower half. Because if I did, I might very well throw myself at him.

“No,” I rasped.

My eyes became fixated on his tattoos. Starting at his fingers, they flowed up his wrist into a perfect sleeve. There wasn’t an inch of his skin that wasn’t covered with something. A jester. Swirls from some tribal pattern. A flower. Rose petals. A constellation. Mickey Mouse. The word ‘Alyssa.’ It just went on, and on, and on.

Each one I wanted to ask its meaning, but I couldn’t make my mouth work.

My body was focused on other things—like the throbbing between my legs.

I wanted nothing more than to drop my hand between my legs, and swirl my fingers around that unfamiliar bundle of nerves.

Yes, you’re reading that correctly. Unfamiliar.

I’d never had an orgasm.

Never.

I’d never once touched myself down there.

I’d had sex one time, and one time only.

It was the night I got really, really drunk.

I’d been at a party, had started drinking, and it’d lowered my inhibitions enough for me to do something I’d never been able to do before. Have sex.

It’d been a boy from my physics class. He’d been what you would call a nerd, and had been exceptionally terrible at sex.

I’d come onto him, and he’d taken me up on the offer almost immediately.

He’d taken me up to his room, shut the door, and followed me down onto the bed.

There I’d let him touch me.

I knew I hadn’t gotten off. I was fairly sure I hadn’t even been all that turned on.

But I’d always been curious.

However, when I was sober, I wasn’t able to lower my walls enough to ask for what I wanted.

There was a time that I thought something was wrong with me, but right now, standing next to this man, I realized that there wasn’t anything wrong with me.

I just hadn’t been near the right man long enough to realize what I wanted.

And I wanted Tate Casey, almost more than I wanted my next breath.

His eyes watched my face, studied every single expression that crossed it.

“Are you a virgin, Hennessy Hanes?”

I shook my head.

That was one thing I wouldn’t be able to lie about, and didn’t have to.

I wasn’t a virgin.

I hadn’t come. I never got myself off. And I hadn’t had sex in over ten years.

But I wasn’t a virgin.

Practically, yes. But technically, no.

My drunken night of sex with my first and only sexual partner had ended with him getting off the moment he’d sank his penis inside of me. I guess I should be lucky that I at least got that. Krisney hadn’t had sex with any man but her ex-boyfriend, Reed. Reed, who had shown her what she was missing, and then had taken it away from her. Mine, at least, hadn’t done that.

“Good,” he growled.

Then I was in his lap.

This was going to be bad. I knew it. He knew it. We all freakin’ knew it.

My notepad hit the floor, and the next thing I knew, my mouth was on his.

I was straddling his thick thighs.

They felt like rocks underneath my ass, as well as the long, thick column of his cock.

I told myself this was a bad idea.

I was breaching all kinds of patient/doctor boundaries.

Did I care?

Hell no.

Should I care?

Hell yes.

I felt his hands on my outer thighs, and it took me a long minute to realize that he’d gotten my skirt up to my hips, exposing everything from the waist down.

I pulled away from him, my chest heaving, and stared worriedly into his eyes.

He looked down, not realizing my rising panic.

Why was I panicking?

Because I don’t shave my vagina.

It likely looked like a wooly mammoth was covering my vagina.

Oh, God.

I started to pull away, but then I felt his thumb sweep over my panty-clad lips, and froze.

“Like that you got hair.”

My breath stalled in my lungs.

“I-I don’t shave,” I told him.

He grinned at me, then slipped his finger into the top of my panties, exposing my lower region to his gaze.

“I see that,” he said. “Don’t like looking at bare vaginas, to be honest. Makes me feel like a pedophile who’s into little girls.”

I definitely wasn’t that.

“Trimmed, like yours, is how I want it.” He growled.

Then one finger dipped inside.

The tip of his finger slid between my pussy lips and grazed my clit, causing my entire body to jolt.

Oh, God.

I wasn’t going to make it.

Another touch like that, and I was going to orgasm.

That I knew for a certainty.

Somehow, he knew it, too.

So when he did it again, this time watching my face the entire time, I bit my lip…and came.

It was the best feeling I’d ever experienced in my entire life.

I now knew what the big deal was, and it was everything.

Stars burst over my vision, and my head went back.

My bun that was situated nicely on the lower portion of my skull was knocked askew when my head went back, and a gasping scream left my throat.

But the icing on the cake? That was Tate’s reaction to me coming.

One second I was on his lap, still fully clothed.

And the next, I was naked except for my garter belt and stockings.

My bra was the last thing to go, hitting the floor beside the skirt, shirt, and ripped panties.

By the time I came back from having my mind blown, his mouth was descending toward my nipple.

The moment that his hot mouth closed around the very tip and sucked it inside, I felt my juices leaving my body in a steady rush.

I wanted this man more than anything. More than I wanted a cookie after a meal. More than I wanted a puppy. More than I wanted to win a million dollars and spend it on a house and land where I could have horses.

I wanted him with the ferocity of a hungry lion looking for its next kill.

Then I felt his teeth nibble on my nipple, and I latched onto the first solid thing I could find—his shoulders.

My nails dug in, and I stared, transfixed, as he watched me watch him.

We were tied together right then, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, as something profound passed between us.

“Unzip my jeans,” he ordered, while kneading my breast.

Then he bit down again, this time a little bit harder, causing my hips to jerk.

“Unzip. My. Jeans.”

I reached down, almost on autopilot, and unzipped his jeans.

I was awkward, clumsy, and it was obvious I’d never done it before.

But he didn’t stop playing with my breast. Didn’t stop giving attention to my nipples.

Did nothing but watch me fumble with his belt. Try twice to unsnap his jeans until I realized that it was a button. Then yank down his zipper so hard and fast that it almost got caught on the erection that I could see and feel.

He did nothing to reprimand me. Did nothing to change my awkward ways.

Only watched as I shoved open his jeans, then ran my finger over the wide column filling his boxer briefs.

Oh, God.

And what a big thing it was.

So, so big.

I immediately started to get nervous.

“Take. Out. My. Cock.”

When I didn’t comply fast enough, he pinched my nipple between two knuckles and squeezed.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed the roughness—the orders—until he’d delivered them.

But with him telling me everything I needed to do, I found that my brain cleared long enough for me to comply.

I hooked my fingers of both hands into the waistband of his briefs and pulled the band down.

Exposing his cock slowly, I bit my lip as I got my first good look at the base of him.

His hair surrounding where his cock attached to his pelvic region was dark. Almost black. The base of his cock was thick, surrounded by pubic hair, and so thick that I worried that my fingers wouldn’t even fit around it.

The more I exposed of his cock, the more that I realized that Tate Casey was anything but average.

I was always a curious girl.

I’d watched porn. I knew what a penis looked like.

Tate Casey’s cock was a porn penis.

Big, thick, veiny, and long.

It started out a tanned, lovely shade of brown, and turned into a ruddy red the more of it that was exposed.

And the crown?

My god.

The tip of his penis finally freed from his underwear, and it hit his washboard stomach with a thick smack.

I bit my lip and looked up at him, only just now realizing that he’d stopped what he was doing to my breasts.

Both of my nipples were hard peaks, and they looked—as well as felt—angry and red.

My breasts were heaving, and my pussy—yes, I finally realized the merit of saying pussy, because vagina just didn’t work in situations such as these—was throbbing with need.

I wanted nothing more than to take this man’s cock inside of me, and ride it straight into the sunset.

I, Hennessy Hanes, also wasn’t stupid.

I knew what would happen if I tried to put his cock in me and slam down on it. He’d rip me a new one.

The man was hung.

There was no other definition for it.

He was huge, hard, and extended to his belly button. That had to be at least eight, if not nine, inches in total length.

“Lost you.”

My eyes found his, and I bit my lip.

“I’m pretty sure that you’re huge, and I might not like this very much.”

He grinned and let his hands slide from my ribcage where they’d been sitting to my belly. Then they curved around to my splayed thighs and dipped down over my sex. One thumb went on one side of my cleft, and one went on the other. All he did was run those two thick appendages down the length of my sex, didn’t touch anything important, and my back arched.

Oh, God.

He was going to kill me.

“It’s a man’s job to make his woman ready, honey,” he teased. “Let me tell you a secret.”

I leaned in, enthralled with the way his eyes stayed on mine.

“What?”

He grinned and leaned forward until his mouth was a scant inch from mine. “It always fits.”

My mouth fell open, but before I could sputter out the response required in situations like these, he finally let those thumbs do some work, and slipped one straight into my willing pussy, while the other one went up to my clit.

The double whammy he just committed was enough to steal the breath straight from my lungs as I moaned out, low and loud.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “We don’t want you making too much noise, do we?”

I grinned and opened my mouth to say, “How can I not?” But when I went to say it, he pulled my head down to his, and let his tongue slip inside my mouth that I’d opened to argue with.

The air in my lungs returned as I gasped into his mouth.

This was already the best sexual experience of my life, and I’d only had his thumb enter me.

What would I feel when it was his cock?

His kisses had me dizzy, and by the time he was through, I was riding his thumb, desperate to get to a point that I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

The thumb inside of me was making slick, wet sounds each time I raised and lowered my hips, and at one point, I knew I would’ve been embarrassed. That point would be later, not right now. The way he made me feel…God, I couldn’t even explain it.

It was like I’d gotten all of my favorite things at once. All of those things now centered around Tate.

I didn’t think that even a Snickers would make this day any better.

Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could ruin it.

Even if he stopped right this second, I knew that it’d be something I remembered for the rest of my life. Something I compared all other sexual encounters to for the rest of my time on Earth.

But then he did go and make it better.

“Drop that tight cunt onto my cock,” he ordered, holding his cock up like he was wielding a weapon.

There was no hesitation at all. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

I lifted up and waited for him to position his cock at my entrance, and he didn’t disappoint.

The moment I felt him there, I started to descend, filling myself full of so much Tate that I wasn’t sure I could take it.

“Easy, baby,” he cooed, running his rough hand up the outside of my thigh. “Take it slow. We’re in no hurry.”

Except for I wanted him inside me so badly that I couldn’t think straight. Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that I had an appointment in an hour.

I had a feeling Tate could go for days. An hour would be inconsequential to him.

But I’d give it the good ol’ college try!

My thighs burned as I pulled back up, coating his cock with more of my need that was leaking from my pussy.

The extra lubrication helped, and the second pass of his cock came much smoother, allowing me to take another few inches. But he still wasn’t all the way inside.

“I guess what they say is true,” I panted. “Big feet, big hands…”

He started to laugh, and by doing that, he was making the cock inside of me jump.

“I’m not sure that’s true in real life, but in our world, we’re going to go with it.”

I bit my lip and tried not to blurt out how much seeing him laugh—feeling him laugh—made me happy.

He’d stop, and I didn’t want him to stop.

Not ever.

His hands on my hips guided me, telling me how much I could take, and setting the pace in which we would go.

I allowed this, unable to do anything but, and rode the wave that was Tate.

He controlled every single aspect of our lovemaking—or our fucking. I couldn’t tell which one it was at this point. But regardless, this man made me feel so much that I knew that today would forever change me.

We’d made no promises to each other, and honestly, that was okay.

The man knew what he wanted, and I did, too.

I wanted him, pure and simple.

Then he slammed me down onto him, and I was forced to take everything.

There wasn’t a single inch of me that wasn’t filled with him.

My eyes closed, and my head fell back. My breath hitched for a few long seconds, but I continued to breathe through it. Though, I did have to admit that it was difficult.

“Look down at us.”

I let my head fall forward, my eyes taking in where we were joined.

His cock made my pussy stretch so full that it looked nearly painful.

It didn’t feel painful…yet.

“Told you it would fit.”

I bit my lip and tilted my head back up, my eyes meeting his.

“You did, didn’t you?”

He growled something at me, then used those large, strong arms of his to wrap around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

Then he fucked me.

This was no lovemaking. This was fucking, plain as day.

The force of his thrusts, compared with the way he pulled me down so forcefully, had my orgasm starting that climb again.

How it could be possible, I didn’t know, but I knew tomorrow, nothing else would ever be good enough.

Only Tate’s cock would do.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

I didn’t even realize I’d said a curse word. Tate did.

He laughed, deep and low, as he continued to fuck me.

The backs of my thighs were hitting the tops of his so hard that loud slaps filled the quiet office.

The springs of the couch were squeaking, and it would only be later that I realized that he was using my coffee table as leverage to power upwards with his thighs.

My eyes went hazy as tears filled them, then I shattered into a million, tiny, never going to be put back together, pieces.

I was aware of him following me over, but I could care less. I was experiencing the one thing that all women dreamed about. An orgasm that dragged me fifty feet under, shook me up, and threw me back out a completely different person.

I opened my eyes, my heartbeat racing, and looked down at the man who had rapture still written all over his face.

His mouth was slightly parted.

His beard was ruffled from my kisses.

His signature baseball cap was askew, but not completely off.

And his hands were clenched so tightly around my hips that I knew tomorrow I’d have perfectly defined bruises of all ten of his fingers. Five on one hip, four in the back, one in the front. Five on the other. Four in the back, one in the front.

Then he pulled me up and off of him, setting me on my feet.

My eyes automatically looked down, and I saw him sheathed in a condom that I didn’t remember hearing him put on.

“You used a condom.”

He grunted. “Always have, always will.”

I couldn’t find fault in that, but I was somewhat disheartened that I didn’t get to feel him burst inside of me. Not that I would ever tell him that. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Good,” I said and bent down for my panties.

Once I saw that they were ripped on both sides, I realized that panties weren’t happening today.

That would be uncomfortable.

“Really?” I asked him, holding them up for him to see.

He grinned unrepentantly and stood. “My bad.”

I snorted and watched avidly as he took the condom off of his cock, tied it off, and then reached for the tissues that I had on the coffee table.

Once he’d wrapped the condom, he put it into the trash and tucked his cock back into his jeans…his still half hard cock.

Even that was an impressive sight.

The man was definitely large. Everywhere.

Once his jeans were buttoned, he pulled his t-shirt back over his pants, his eyes once again on me.

He didn’t look uncommittable, and it was only then that I realized I was still standing there naked looking at him.

I bent over and got dressed, wincing only slightly when I realized that I’d have to go throughout the entire day with no panties on.

Usually I wouldn’t mind, but I had a lunch date with my father, and that was going to be extremely awkward.

“How do you like the word cunt now?” Tate wondered.

I bit my lip, wondering if I should say what was really on my mind.

“I love it,” I told him honestly. “But only when you say it when you’re inside of me.”

He grinned, then winked.

Distantly I heard the jingle of bells on my front office door, and realized that our hour was up. My next client had arrived, and there would be no waiting for him.

This client’s name was Jeff Yates. He was a favor from a friend.

When Jeff was a small child, he’d been diagnosed with schizophrenia. Now, at the age of twenty-six, he was still suffering from the same episodes, but had them better under control.

He’d moved to Hostel from Austin, Texas about a year ago, and the woman that he used to see as a psychologist had been my teacher, and my mentor, during college. She’d called me and asked me to take on Jeff as a patient, and I’d agreed.

It was only after he’d come to see me for the second time that I realized how hard he’d be to deal with.

He also didn’t know the word ‘wait.’

I wasn’t even sure he knew the word ‘stop.’

“Can you get the blinds for me while I go let Jeff in?” I asked him. “He doesn’t wait well.”

Tate’s eyes held mine for a few long seconds, and then he nodded in understanding. “Yeah.”

As I left the office once again fully dressed, I felt Tate’s movement behind me. As each section of blind was raised, and my little world was exposed, I felt marginally better.

I could deal with the blinds closed with Tate. There was no way for me to feel scared in his presence.

Jeff, however, was a completely different story.

The man gave me the creeps, and I was on the verge of dropping him as a patient.

The only thing that kept me from completely freaking out was my old mentor and teacher. We’d compared notes, and I had a better understanding of how Jeff’s mind worked.

That likely wouldn’t be enough, though.

Not with the way he gave me the chills, and made me feel like I was a sitting duck in the eyes of a predator.

Jeff was smaller, about six inches shy of six foot.

He was lanky, had long hair, and looked like he didn’t step foot out of his house much.

He lived with his mother, or at least that was what he told me, but I had yet to see her.

Steeling my nerves and opening my office door, I smiled warily at Jeff.

“Nice to see you, Jeff. Won’t you come in?”

Jeff did, and glanced in the corner at Tate the moment he breached the room.

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

Tate’s eyes narrowed on Jeff.

“I was just leaving,” Tate said carefully. “See you in a couple days, Ms. Hanes.”

Then Tate was gone, glancing over his shoulder twice at me, and then at Jeff.

He must’ve felt it, too.

I shivered and turned to my patient.

“Won't you sit down?”

Jeff went horizontal on top of the couch.

“I need to tell you what I dreamed about last night.”

And then he proceeded to tell me a tale of a dark-haired woman that was dead on the side of the road, that had a remarkable resemblance to me.