Blind Spot - Katana Collins Page 0,100

I could go from never to multiples within a few weeks. My body jolted as he increased pressure, and he drove a finger inside of me, thrusting in and out as his thumb worked magical circles.

My toes dug into the bedding as my muscles stiffened, exploding around his hand. A gasped cry came from deep in my belly, and when I was done, Tate fell back, licking his fingers.

“There,” he murmured. “Go write your paper. My laptop is on the coffee table. Password is bestbuddy, all one word.” He peeked one eye open, arching a brow. “But don’t you dare go anywhere. I expect you back in this bed within a couple of hours.”

I rolled on top of him, straddling his morning wood. “And just what will you be doing while I’m doing homework?”

“Dreaming,” he sighed, eyes fluttering closed. “Of you.” He smirked, and I squeezed his cheeks with one hand.

“Yeah, right.” I laughed, hopping off of him, and slipped on a T-shirt and boxers before grabbing a robe that hung on a chair next to the bed. I wanted to smell him as I worked on my paper.

I walked out into his living room, grabbed Buddy’s leash, and took him for a quick pee before getting started. When I opened the laptop, I typed in Tate’s password.

Tate’s email account automatically pulled up. I quickly minimized the screen as half a dozen porn pop-up ads popped open. Holy shit, Tate. I know guys like porn, but seriously? Damn. That was a lot of porn.

I clicked out of each of them, and when I opened Safari, his browser history popped up. I swallowed, looking over my shoulder. He had done so much for me—getting me to open up, talk about myself…orgasm. Maybe there was a fantasy I could fulfill for him. Something he’d always wanted to explore but never had.

I pulled open the history, and the first was a threesome. Anxiety clenched in my stomach and I looked at Buddy. “No way in hell,” I said to the dog. He whined and rolled onto his back, offering me his belly. I clicked on the next couple of links…most of which featured blow jobs.

No surprise there. Boys loved their head. But I do that with no problem.

I gulped. Shit, I hope it was no problem. Was he watching the porn because I wasn’t good enough at it? I shook the thought away. No, not a chance. I was just being insecure.

I checked the time—I’d watch one more and then work on the paper. I clicked the next link down.

Nothing could have prepared me for what popped onto the screen. A blonde woman—she looked young. Like, maybe a teenager. And she was blindfolded, bound hand and foot to a bed. All air halted in my chest. No. God, no. This wasn’t Tate’s porn. He couldn’t be watching this. The woman screamed no, and I flinched, muting the volume. She writhed and shook her head as two different men forced themselves on her. My stomach lurched.

How could he? Tears rose, pricking the back of my eyes, and I looked away, pausing the video. I couldn’t watch another second. If this was his fantasy—if this was the shit that he got off to when I wasn’t around, I couldn’t be with this man. Why else would this video be in his history? He’d watched it at least one time.

And that was one time too many.

I stroked Buddy’s head, my tears falling into his fur, and kissed him on the nose. Leaving the screen open on the rape porn, I dressed quietly and slipped out of his apartment.

Chapter Thirty-Six

TATE

I woke up to find Buddy’s snout pressed against my face, snorting. Groaning, I rolled over, scratching his head. “Okay, boy. I know…you’re hungry.”

I grunted, forcing myself out of bed, and padded my way into the kitchen, rubbing a hand over my face. “Shelby?” I called and no one answered. Maybe she ran downstairs for some notes or something. Grabbing Buddy’s bowl, I poured him some kibble and dropped it in front of his nose. He inhaled it, sliding the metal bowl around the kitchen. The marble tile was chilly against my feet, and I rushed over to the couch where my open laptop was resting on the coffee table. I brushed a finger against the trackpad, kicking the screensaver into life.

My breath stalled as I saw the paused video that fucking Logan sent on the screen. “Oh, fuck. No, no, no…” I just barely remembered to put