Chapter 36 Sullivan
SULLIVAN
“Did you beat Brandon up?”
Tate and I have been driving for fifteen minutes since dropping Ashley off and she’s finally spoken to me.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You look surprised, but I think you knew the answer before asking the question.”
I meet Cliff’s eyes in the rearview mirror and dip my chin. The soundproofed privacy screen slides up into position.
“You don’t want Cliff to hear that you beat a guy up and gave him a black eye? Probably some broken ribs?” Tate scoffs.
“Pretty sure Cliff knows seeing as he’s the one who helped toss your ex into the trunk of this very car two days ago.”
Tate blinks, her pouty lower lip falling open. “What?”
“He deserved it, Tate. He stole from you.”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing.”
I adjust my cufflinks, tension oozing up my spine at the hint of concern in her voice for the jackass.
I inhale slowly and recall his sniveling pleas as he’d hammered on the inside of the trunk as Denver and I sat in the backseat together and chatted about the Yankees’ latest game while we drove out to his cabin in the woods. They replay in my head like a sweet melody, easing my tension.
It was the perfect place to scare a pathetic asshole shitless while letting him believe I was going to murder and bury him where no one will find him.
Denver even had an axe. A little steak blood on it in preparation of our arrival and Brandon Rutter pissed himself thinking that’s the last place his head was going to be attached to his body.
I don’t recall the last time I hit actual flesh and blood, and not the punching bag in my home gym.
It was rather therapeutic.
I turn and pin Tate under a pointed gaze.
“If you’re waiting for an apology, then you’ll be disappointed. My only regret is the guy’s still able to walk. Now tell me how your meeting went.”
Tate shakes her head, breaking my gaze and looking out of her window. I fight the urge to take her chin and turn her back to me so I can see her eyes. So I can gauge what she’s thinking.
“They want to sign me,” she says.
She flicks a look in my direction when I remain silent.
“Did you hear me? They want to sign me?”
“I heard you.” I hold back my smile at the spark of defiance in her eyes. It’s only when she’s pissed at me that I see it. But I love the times she lets her fire out.
“I suppose I should thank you. If Brandon hadn’t come forward, it might have been harder to prove what he did.” She turns away again.
“No. You had all the evidence. Him getting his ass kicked was for my benefit, not yours.”
She whirls in her seat to face me, her cheeks blazing.
“Are you serious? You beat him up for nothing?”
“You’re not getting my point,” I clip in irritation.
“Maybe because your point sucks!”
“Why are you suddenly concerned about an ex who treated you like shit? An ex who enjoyed fucking another woman more than he enjoyed fucking you?”
My words land straight on target. But they hurt me as much as her as a shimmer of self-consciousness passes through her eyes and she moves back, faltering in her attack on me.
I’ve gone too far. Put her back in a place she should never have been. Reminded her of a way she should never have been made to feel.
“Come here.”
“No,” she spits, jerking her face toward the window and crossing her arms.
“Tate,” I instruct, my voice soft, but firm. “Come. Here.”
“Make me.”
I unfasten my belt, and in one swift move, I unfasten hers and pull her into my lap to straddle me.
“I’m not going to apologize for my actions.”
“Well, what a surprise. Sullivan Beaufort doing exactly what he wants.”
Her eyes are like two flames trying to destroy me, but her words lack conviction. Especially because her panties are soaking as I rub the tips of my fingers over them.
“Don’t think that’s me forgiving you, just because my body reacts to you.” She pouts.
“No one will ever treat you like he did and not have to deal with the consequences. And you can fight with me as much as you want. It won’t change a thing.”
I unzip my pants and pull my dripping dick out.
“Does anyone ever say no to you? Refuse to let you have your own way?” she snaps, even as she shivers in my arms, letting out a soft moan.
I yank her panties to one side roughly, my heart rate skyrocketing as she does nothing to stop me.
“If they do, then they soon say yes. I can be very persuasive.”
Holding her glare, I grip her hips and lift her, bringing her down slowly onto my aching cock.
She feels like fucking ecstasy.
I tip my head back, keeping my eyes on hers as I groan, sinking my teeth into my lower lip.
“You’re mine, Baby. And I protect what’s mine.” The words spill out before I can stop them. I shouldn’t be saying them, no matter how much I want to.
“I’m mad at you,” she breathes, unable to hide the way her voice pitches.
“So fuck out your anger right now so that I can kiss you and tell you how damn proud of you I am.”
Her pupils dilate and she stares at me. “Proud of me?”
I stroke her cheek, sliding my hand down to curl around her jaw possessively, but oh so gently.
“So fucking proud,” I whisper.
“Asshole,” she breathes.
Then she launches herself at me, hands sinking into my hair, thighs clamping tight over my hips.
And my girl fucks me.
She fucks me like a star in the backseat of my car.
“Wipe that smug smirk off your face,” she pants. “The moment I come, we’re done, whether you’ve finished or not.”
But her threat is wasted on me. Seeing her like this is enough to make me blow on the spot.
I wait until the telling rush of wetness swirls around the head of my dick, and she clenches, indicating she’s about to come.
Then I bring her to me by her neck, pulling her lips to mine, and release deep inside her with a groan.
“Fuck, Baby. That’s my girl.”