Page 146

EMILY

I’m not usually that much of a wine person, preferring beer, but when your sister pours you a glass, you drink it.

Kelsey is either trying to get me drunk enough to spend the night or get me bold enough to make a move on Tate.

That’s what red wine will do to you, and as much as I love my sister and Deke, there is no way I’m spending the night.

Those two are newlyweds. I’m sure they fuck like rabbits all over the house.

That’s something a sister does not need to hear or walk into.

The way my luck is going, it’ll only solidify just how unlucky I am in the orgasm department since Tate worked his wizardry on me.

“Come on, let’s go out back.” I know the way through her house, of course; I also know that we’ll be walking by the guys, which means this is a make-or-break moment.

“Hold on. I need to drop off the rest of my shit before I make an absolute ass out of myself carrying my phone, keys, water chug, and wine glass,” I tell Kelsey after she poured what seems like a mega pint of red wine for herself and me.

“All this time, and you could have had that done. Take your shoes off, too. That way, all of your stuff is together and you don’t lose something again.

” Leave it Kels to call me out on the fact that misplacing things is a common occurrence.

My purse is not in my car, by the way. Good thing I keep my license and credit card with my phone.

That’s the one thing I haven’t misplaced; everything else seems to be fair game.

“Yes, Mother.” The chide rolls off my tongue like it would back when we were teenagers and Kels was put in charge, which made no sense; we’re barely a year apart.

“Whatever. You know it’ll happen, and you’ve already stated you’re driving home. Though, I’m wondering whose house you’ll be driving to, yours or Tate’s.” Reason five hundred and one why you should never tell Kelsey anything. This is the crap I’ll be hearing all night.

“You’re lucky I love you, or I’d be marching ahead of you, going after Tate and then leaving just as soon as we seal the deal.

” I kick off my shoes. My cup is already on the counter.

I put my keys near it, and as much as I’m tempted to leave my phone, I don’t.

Kelsey gets it. If something were to happen to Beach Babe and neither of us answered a call, it would be devastating.

I mean, it’s closed, locked up tight, safe and sound; that doesn’t say our website doesn’t crash or one of our suppliers doesn’t need one of us at the drop of the hat.

“Fine. You always were a brat. I see nothing has changed.” I look at her, raise one eyebrow like The Rock does, and take a hearty sip of wine as well, causing Kels to eat her words because neither of us are brats in any way, shape, or form.

“Alright, you’re not a brat, but stubborn?

Yes. There’s no denying it; it’s in the gene pool. ”

“I beg to differ.” A snort leaves me after I try to keep a smile off my face.

“Let’s go. They’ve been here an hour, and sometimes that’s all they stay. Now, put your sex kitten game on and let’s roll.” We’ve had to use a hushed tone thanks to the open concept floorplan, but this bar area is off to the side in an alcove before you walk into the kitchen.

Someone has been drinking too much Kool-Aid from the punch bowl.

I get that she’s in pure wedded bliss, but even this is too much.

Kels has already turned around, starting to walk through the house in order to get to the back deck, where I’m sure she’s stationed some kind of food along with magazines for us to glance at.

All in pretense to make this seem like work and less like her younger sister is dying from not reaching an orgasm.

Though, I know she’s scheming for Tate and me to have a relationship like hers and Deke’s; not that it started off on the right foot either, but that’s life.

It's only when we round the corner that I take him in. His back is to me, broad shoulders covered in a well-worn shirt, muscular arms, tapered waist, thick thighs that are powerful, especially when he’s using them to thrust so hard you can feel him hit that place so deep inside you, your own body betrays you when it’s flying a part.

Tate’s elbows are on the table, and he’s holding what seems like cards in his hands, which would make sense if he came over to play poker.

His hair has grown longer in the past six months.

“Hey guys. Not sure you’ve met my sister.

Joey, Davis, this is Emily. Tate, you met Em at the wedding.

” I give a finger wave, trying not to look like an idiot.

Thankfully, I’m not one who blushes because the way Tate is eyeing me, it’s hard not to make a scene.

The one that is currently running through my head right now, on a repeat cycle, is Tate standing, using the wall to brace his body against as I’m down on my knees in front of him, two hands wrapped around his length, my mouth lapping at the precum at the tip, his hands fisted in my hair, attempting to control himself from slamming his cock all the way down my throat.

“Hey, Emily, nice to meet you,” Davis says, barely looking up from his cards, wearing some kind of purple-lense sunglasses.

“Likewise.” I look at Deke. He just shakes his head at what I’m sure he knows what I’m thinking.

“Hi, Em.” The guy who must be Joey drags the last letter of my name out, giving the vibe of someone who’s a flirt. Note to self, stay away from Mr. Wanna-be Rico Suave. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“That’s enough, Joey,” Tate’s voice carries through the house. Well, if that isn’t a change of events. “Emily, good seein’ you, babe.”

“Hey, Tate.” I’m not sure if he’s adding on that last adoration to warn off Joey or if it’s for me. Whatever it is, I’m going to take it.