She nods, her breath fogging the glass as I continue to thrust into her.
“I thought you left me again,” I whisper against the shell of her ear, as I pound into her wet pussy relentlessly. She moans in response, her head falling back.
“No, I’m right here,” she groans in reply.
Untangling my hand from hers I wrap her long blond locks around my fists, and drive into her hard. She arches into me wanting more.
Her cries, moans, and audible breaths, I take them all, and with envy.
“My naughty little Tate, the girl next door that likes her hair pulled and ass spanked as I pound into her without mercy.”
“Yes!” she moans, meeting my thrusts.
Every erotic sound spilling from her gorgeous body is mine.
Tatum Davis is mine.
Pressure builds in my cock, and my chest constricts with the urge to cum.
Letting go of one of her hands I slap the side of her ass and she whimpers. My hand burns from the contact.
“That’s for not listening to me. That is for making me fucking crazy. That is for making me love you all over again!” I spank her hard, and her pussy tightens around mine. The sensation firing in my dick and shooting down my body until I’m weak in the knees.
Panting I slowly pull my dick from her wetness, and she shivers from the void. Picking her up bride style I bring her back to the bed, placing her back on my chest. Where she belongs.
I toss the blankets over us, and tangle one hand in her hair while the other soothes the soreness of her butt cheek away.
“I love you Tatum Davis,” I whisper into her hair.
Chapter Twenty-Two
One week later
Tate
“Keep your chin up!” Camden taps my chin with his glove, and I push my head up. My eyes setting on his.
When we got back from our date night I went and checked on my dad and then went to Camden’s. As soon as I walked in he fucked me against the door. The hostility and resentment finally gone, we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other since.
He slaps me in the side of the head, grabbing my attention.
“Focus!” he scolds, his face hard. “The fight is in two days,” he reminds me. I nod, narrowing my eyes on his hands as I spar with him.
“You’re not wearing out as quickly, that’s good,” Camden praises. “I’d like to take praise for that, keeping you in my bed probably helped with that,” he states smug.
I roll my eyes.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Tate, this is Reba, she is going to do your wardrobe,” Debs states from outside the ring.
I lower my hands, and spit out my mouth guard as I look her way.
A tall skinny blonde woman stands next to her. She has on a long sleek dress, and has high pink cheek bones. She looks like she just crawled out of a store front based out of New York.
“I’m sorry, my what?” I can’t help the high skepticism in my voice.
“Your wardrobe my dear. The weigh in is tomorrow, not to mention the interviews. You’ll want to look your best,” Reba adds, her accent telling me is definitely not from here.
“I’m going to fight, not walk the damn runaway.” I put my fists back up, urging Camden to come at me.
“Actually, Kiki refused the interview,” Debs informs.
“Why?” Camden’s face narrows in questioning.
“She is insulted that a newbie is getting into the ring with her.” Debs shrugs. It hurts, but it will be her mistake if she underestimates me.
“Okay, so you’ll need approved gear for the weigh in and fight, I can take care of that,” Reba informs with a cheesy smile.
“This is unnecessary, I don’t need a wardrobe.” I point at Reba, eyeing Debs like she’s lost her mind.
“You’ll have fans, little girls will be watching you, they will want to be you. You need to set an example.”
I drop my fists. “What message will I be sending them if I let you dress me up like a goddamn doll, when that isn’t who I am.” I half laugh.
Reba looks shocked, her mouth dropping, and her hand clutching her chest.
“Do you get what you’re doing? Do you get that you are jumping the fucking spectrum with this fight? Do you have any idea how hard women work to get here?” Debs’ voice rises as I have clearly unraveled her.
Reba touches Debs’ arm gently, as if to calm her.
“Tate, trust me. I won’t have you looking like a … doll. We will find something that matches your personality,” Reba assures me.
“Personality? Do you have something made of nails?” Debs huffs, crossing her arms. I glare at her, but kind of take it as a compliment.
“No, something edgy, and daring would work well,” Reba objects, as she clasps her hands in front of her.
Wiping my forehead with my wrist, I exhale a frustrated breath.
“Fine.”
“Right, well, we should get a move on then.” Reba smiles.
I look at Camden worried, and he looks at her like she’s crazy.