Desiree
Tate cupped my face gently, brushing his thumbs against my face. “Love, come here. I’m going to teach you to shoot a gun today.”
“Papi, I’m scared.” My lips quivered, clutching his shirt in my fists.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, my sweet Desiree. Do you trust me?” His thumbs skimmed my skin wiping my tears.
“With my life,” I replied, our eyes meeting.
“Good,” Tate reached behind my head, threading his fingers in my hair and crushed his lips against mine. “I f*****g love you so much, Desiree.”
Like a whirlwind, he scooped me in his arms and carried me outside. Never leaving my eyes, he walked to the back porch and deposited me on the picnic table. I laid back as he loomed over my small frame, a desire building up in my loins. Tate took my wrists, holding them above my
