6. Tate

CHAPTER 6

TATE

On the cab ride to Brooks’ penthouse, I replayed the end of the conversation we’d had on the patio at The Black Door. I apologized for leaving the first night we’d met, then he asked me if kissing was still a hard limit for me. Shocked he even remembered that, I told him no, and he looked like he wanted to lick the word out of my mouth right then and there.

To say Astor Brooks was intense was an understatement, and to think, with all the fantasizing I’d done over the past six months, I’d almost forgotten just how overwhelming he could truly be.

As the cab pulled to a stop alongside the curb out front of a steel and glass skyscraper, Brooks turned to me in the back seat and studied me earnestly.

“How hard is too hard, Tate?” he asked.

I swallowed nervously. “I don’t know.”

“And the other way?”

The driver came around and opened my door, waiting for me to get out.

“What do you mean?” I asked .

I climbed out onto the sidewalk, smoothing my hands down the front of my jeans while Brooks followed me out. He tipped the driver, but I didn’t think he’d even looked away from me for a single second.

“How soft is too soft?”

“I also don’t know,” I rasped.

No one had ever been soft with me before. That wasn’t what I’d tried to chase after, and judging by how well I liked Brooks’ hard, I didn’t envision myself craving anything soft, least of all from him.

“It’s still red,” he said, striding past me toward the building. There was a doorman built more like a bouncer than a concierge, but I didn’t want to judge. My building didn’t even have an elevator, let alone a doorman.

“What’s red?” I jogged to catch up to him before the brick wall of a man in front of us shut the door in my face.

“Your safe word.”

Somehow, without Brooks even pressing the call button, the elevator doors slid open and he stepped inside. Again, I followed after him, heart trying to escape my body via my mouth. The organ felt like it had lodged itself in my throat, battering its way toward the nearest possible exit.

“Okay,” I agreed. The doors soundlessly slid closed behind me. “It’s yours too.”

He scrunched his nose at that, corner of his mouth tugging up into half of a smile. “You’re still the only person who’s ever cared about my safe word.”

I tangled my fingers together in front of me because I didn’t know what to say.

The elevator raced up so fast, my stomach floated around inside of me and, on top of my nerves, I worried I was going to throw up all over both our feet. Thankfully, the numbers on the panel flashed PH and the car coasted to the smoothest stop of any elevator I’d ever ridden in before. The doors whooshed open into a private lobby with a single white door on the opposite wall. It reeked of modern new money, and I was thankful Brooks hadn’t brought me back here the first night because there was no way I could have gone through with it. Even now, knowing what I was in for, understanding how badly I wanted it, every nerve in my body wanted to turn around and run the other way.

“You look like you’re going to be sick.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and held it up against a small black pad beside the door knob. A light flashed and beeped, and a lock in the door disengaged.

“This is a lot,” I muttered.

“Last time I fucked you at The Black Door, you ran out on me,” he said, twisting the knob and pushing open the front door of his home. “I figure I’m doing us both a favor by bringing you back here.”

“How do you figure?”

“I get to treat you the way I want to and it’s harder for you to leave.” Brooks gave me a boyish grin and tilted his head toward the door.

“I hope you know that sounds far worse than you meant it to.”

“Does it?”

I groaned, reaching out to grab the door before it closed. Brooks was clearly done waiting for me to get my act together, which was more than fair. I’d chased him down twice at The Black Door, and when he’d given in to what I wanted, I started to drag my feet .

“Has anyone ever told you you’re intimidating?” I asked, letting the door lock itself automatically at my back.

“Often.” Brooks turned to face me, hands clasped behind his back. He worried the corner of his lower lip with his tongue, and I pressed my shoulder blades against the door. “Would you like a drink?”

A laugh fell out of my mouth, and I unceremoniously slapped my hand over my face as if it would be enough to stop the noise. Brooks bit his lip between his teeth and I cursed myself, the word muffled against my palm.

“I don’t want a drink,” I finally said. “You know what I want.”

“Demanding little thing now, aren’t you?” he murmured.

“Let’s not pretend this is anything other than what it is.”

“And what is it?” he asked.

“Sex,” I answered, the word scratching against my throat like sandpaper.

“You make it sound so transactional.” Brooks took the smallest step toward me, long fingers working to pop the top button of his shirt undone. “So perfunctory.”

“Isn’t it?” I croaked.

“Not if you’re doing it right, which we’ve already established you haven’t been.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

He plucked open another button on his shirt, then another, sighing heavily.

“Take your shoes off,” he said slowly, “and get mine while you’re down there.”

Maybe it was the nerves or the lack of blood left in my brain, but I kneeled down at Brooks’ feet and carefully tugged at the waxed laces of his shiny black shoes. He balanced himself against my head to get free of them, and then I carefully tucked both of the shoes against the wall. Kicking off my black sneakers beside his made me feel poorer than I ever had before, but I didn’t think there were many people in the same tax bracket as Astor Brooks…not even his own friends.

When I straightened back up to my full height, which was a handful of inches taller than him, Brooks asked me, “How did that make you feel, Tate?”

“Small,” I said.

“Did you hate it?”

I shook my head, cock aching between my legs.

Actually, I opposite of hated it, which was just one more thing about myself I’d have to unpack when the night was over. It wouldn’t be the first time the man standing in front of me unlocked something groundbreaking inside of me, and if all went well, it wouldn’t be the last either.

Brooks made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat and undid the final button on his shirt. He yanked the tails out from behind the secure bind of his belt, then huffed a breath in my general direction before setting to work on his cuffs. I hadn’t realized he’d been wearing cufflinks, which was…

Honestly, indecently fucking sexy.

After he’d loosed them, he tossed both pieces into the air, catching them in his palm and snapping his fist closed around them. He shoved his hand into his pocket and cocked his head to the side, still studying me.

“No drink?” he checked again.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Just...” He scrunched his nose again, and it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen, such an absolute contrast to the way he carried himself. “Here for the sex then? ”

“Mostly,” I managed to answer.

“We’ll put a pin in that.” He scratched the bow of his upper lip. “Come on.”

As soon as Brooks started into the apartment, I saw it for the first time. Past his entry, the space opened up into a massive floor plan that didn’t have any exterior walls, just floor to ceiling windows that spanned as far as I could see. The place was decorated like he’d hired the job out, with curving cream-colored couches and low, light wood tables in comparable shapes. A massive and modern chandelier hung from the twenty-foot ceiling, and an open staircase led to what I assumed must be his second floor. Through the window, I could see the entire city lit up and sparkling, the view a far cry from the brick walls and fire escapes of the apartment Dylan and I shared in Chelsea.

“My bedroom is upstairs,” Brooks said, grabbing onto the handrail and waiting to make sure I was close on his heels before heading up. I glanced back over my shoulder as we made our way to the top, overwhelmed by the expansive views and the space itself.

The second floor was just as impressive, a massive landing that opened into what I assumed to be the primary bedroom. The other doors were closed, but I imagined they shared the same view as the main level. Brooks’ bedroom had the same expensive taste as the downstairs, but it at least appeared lived in. His bed was low to the floor and unmade, a navy blue blanket tossed haphazardly over the bottom edge. The bedroom itself was on a corner, offering two sides of completely uninhibited city views, and the building was so tall, there weren’t any neighbors close enough to even think about peeking inside .

“Tate.” Brooks cleared his throat like it wasn’t the first time he’d said my name.

“Yeah?”

He shrugged out of his shirt, revealing a golden skin and a soft-looking torso. He didn’t have a dad bod, but he wasn’t overly fit either. The shape of his body was the only relatable thing about him, and I was almost sad he’d started to strip down. Not because I didn’t want to see him naked—I did—but because one of my favorite things about our first time together had been the fact he stayed entirely dressed.

“Is there anything I need to worry about?” he asked me the same question from before and embarrassment burned my cheeks.

“Well, I’m definitely not a virgin.”

“No,” he said quietly. “I imagine you’re not.”

“There’s not,” I said. “I know I’ve slept around, but I’ve gotten tested. I’m not careless.”

Brooks frowned, holding up his hand to stop me. “I didn’t think you were. That wasn’t the point of the question.”

“What was the point then?”

“It’s a chance for you to tell me any limits, Tate, any triggers.” The use of my name again sent a shiver up my spine. “If I blindfold you, hold you down by your throat, is it going to scare you? That sort of thing.”

My breath caught, and I shook my head quickly. “It won’t scare me.”

“It was an example.”

“I’ll say red if I have to,” I promised.

“Okay,” he conceded, carefully opening his belt. He didn’t take it off, and I fought against my eyes trying to roll back in my head. Half-dressed was better than naked, and watching the way he raked his eyes over me with a want that felt tangible was enough to send my earlier nerves running for the hills. “Take off your clothes, Tate.”

“I think I love it when you say my name.” I tugged my shirt over my head and dropped it onto the floor.

“I think I love it when you do what you’re told.”

Brooks unzipped his pants and slid his hand down over the top of his black boxer briefs. He cupped his erection in his hand, practically growling as he adjusted himself. I scrambled out of my pants and socks, shucking my underwear down my legs and straightening back up. I cupped my balls with one hand and the base of my shaft with another, groaning at the feel of my own touch.

My vision narrowed down to black pinpricks, sensation overwhelming my body and Brooks hadn’t even gotten his hands on me yet. I closed my eyes and tugged my cock away from my body, a rough over-handed tug that felt better than anytime I’d ever touched myself before.

What was it about this man that amplified all of my feelings?

Both physical and emotional, when it came to Brooks…I was constantly at a loss.

I opened my eyes, finding him staring at me like a predator who’d spent months tracking his prey. The intensity of his stare took my breath away, but I managed to beg, just the same.

“Tell me what to do, Brooks. I’m ready.”