His hand left my hair and became an arm wrapped around my upper back, jerking me tighter to his body.
“Jesus, Lauren, I’ll ask one more fuckin’ time. What’s up your goddamned ass?”
At that, I lost hold of my temper which was my only choice since the only other thing I could do was lose hold on the tears I’d been ignoring since my couch contemplations last night and our scene in the bed early that morning.
“You’re a jerk!” I snapped.
“Yeah, I get pissed, I am. So?”
I felt my eyes get wide. “So?” I repeated.
“Not somethin’ you don’t know about me, Ace.”
“I don’t like it!”
“Yeah?” he asked and went on before I could answer. “And I don’t like it when you lose hold of your attitude and turn into a bitch. But since most of the time you’re sweet or hilarious or you make my dick get hard, I can put up with that.”
“There it is,” I pointed out, trying to slide away at the same time pushing against his biceps but his arms got super tight and I stopped.
“What?”
“You just called me a bitch!”
“Babe, honest to God?” he asked, his voice impatient.
“Honest to God!” I snapped, my voice rising.
“You don’t know you can be a bitch?”
“No, I don’t. Normally I’m not. You draw it out in me.”
“So I’m not only a jerk, it’s me who makes you a bitch,” he stated.
“Yes,” I replied.
His arms didn’t loosen even as he tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“Let me go,” I demanded and his head tipped forward again.
“No,” he replied.
“And there it is again!” I declared instantly.
“What?” he clipped, his arms giving me a mini-shake.
“I get that you’re an alpha male, Captain, but bossing me around, making me do stuff I don’t want to do? Not… liking… that.”
His face dipped close. “All right, Ace, get it all out. What else?”
I’d had enough, more than enough, so I got up on my toes and got close to his face too. “Okay, Captain, here goes,” I started. “Neeta, Wood, Neeta, Wood and maybe a little bit more of Neeta and Wood!”
“You wanna expand on that?” he growled.
“Not me not expanding, Tate,” I snapped.
Tate head twitched then, immediately, he started his story.
“Knew her for as long as I can remember. Hooked up with her in high school. Partly ‘cause she was gorgeous, mostly ‘cause she put out. I was seventeen, she was fifteen and I wasn’t her first.”
I gasped at the knowledge that Neeta put out (and he wasn’t her first) at the age of fifteen. I lost my virginity at the age of twenty-one to my college sweetheart after his pre-graduation fraternity dance. We’d been going together for two years and he’d taken me to a posh hotel and bought me roses and told me he’d love me until the day he died after we did it. We were still friends and he called me on my birthday every year and each time he did we laughed together about the good old days for at least an hour.
It was doubtful at fifteen Neeta held out for posh hotels and roses and equally doubtful her first still remembered her birthday, if he ever knew it at all.
Tate continued. “She was wild but I knew that about her and it was a fuckin’ blast, always. She could have fun, Neeta. Always smilin’, laughin’, dancin’. She’d get up from watchin’ TV and dance into the fuckin’ kitchen to get a drink. The world was a dance for her. A party all in her head. But when I hooked up with her, spent that much time with her, something struck me, somethin’ not right about it. It wasn’t until later I realized she wasn’t wild. She was desperate. For what, I still don’t fuckin’ know, spent years tryin’ to figure it out same time I spent those years tryin’ to give it to her. All I know is, back then, I was too young and too addicted to her mouth wrapped around my cock to think of much else.”
This was way too much information.
“I –” I broke in but he shook his head.
“You wanted to know, babe, here it is,” he told me. “I think you get I was a good football player. And I was good. So good, I had scouts comin’ to games my junior year. Senior year I had six offers before I took the seventh and two came in the day after that. Neeta, she liked that, bein’ with me, lookin’ into our future, plannin’ it all out. It wasn’t about me, what I could do, what I earned. It was about what Neeta could get outta it.”
I bit my lip, Tate held my eyes and kept speaking.
“But Neeta, she’s not like you. She isn’t smart. She doesn’t work hard. She thinks of the future with her head in the clouds. And she doesn’t work for shit. Always, even when she was a little kid, expected everything to be handed to her on a silver platter. So she wants to party, have fun and she wants me with her. And I’m with her because I’ll get laid or get a blowjob but also because I’m not, there’s no fuckin’ tellin’ what she’ll get herself into. And, fuck me, I love her. Not just her mouth or her cunt, but her. The way she is, the way she dances through life.”