night,” Tate changed the subject and lowered her legs.
“Why doesn't that surprise me?”
“He asked me if I ever miss sleeping with you. Isn't that weird? He's never asked me something like that before,” Tate started.
“He's threatened by me. Good. I like it,” Ang teased. Tate threw a handful of sand at him.
“Shut up.”
“And what did you say?” he asked. She shrugged.
“I told the truth – no. I mean, we had some great times, Angie-wangy, but I love my life now,” she was truthful. Ang nodded.
“Yeah. Life isn't so bad,” he agreed, letting sand run through his fingers.
“So you don't miss it at all?” Tate asked, but she was smiling. Ang snorted.
“Tater tot, do you know what I was doing before I got on the plane? Having a foursome with three of the top winners from AVN last year. I love you, you fuck like a champion, but I'm good,” he assured her. Tate burst out laughing and threw more sand at him.
“Oh geez, what happened to ' I'm over having sex ', Mr. Jaded-One? Pffft , having foursomes. Over sex, my ass,” Tate kept shoveling sand at him.
“Okay, maybe ' over it ' was an exaggeration. Stop!” he shouted, shoving sand back at her.
“How come we never had a foursome?” Tate demanded, turning her head away and just blindly flinging sand.
“Hey, I tried! Remember that open house we went to!?” Ang reminded her, and then a handful of sand hit her in the chest.
“Angier! I was not going to fuck some random couple at a house viewing! We were there for the free food!” Tate shouted.
“You were always too prudish for me, thank god Satan came along,” he teased.
Tate gasped and turned to face him, only to get sand thrown in her open mouth. While she gagged and coughed, Ang tackled her to the ground. They rolled around in the sand, limbs flailing, struggling to shove as much sand as they could into each others' clothing.
“I can't breathe,” Tate hacked as he pinned her arms above her head and straddled her waist.
“Do you give?” he asked, gripping both her wrists with one hand while his free hand scooped up more sand.
“I give, I give, you win, get off of me,” she begged, rolling her hips.
“Hmmm, now that I've got you at my disposal …,” Ang murmured.
“Stop it,” Tate laughed.
“All this talk of foursomes has gotten me pretty worked up,” he told her.
“Please. You couldn't handle me, I'm way freakier now then when we used to sleep together,” she taunted.
“I'd like to test that theory.”
“ Pffft , too bad.”
“ Ahem. ”
They both snapped their heads up to see Sanders standing behind them.
“Ang is being an ass!” Tate whined.
“Tate's refusing to sleep with me!” Ang whined as well.
“The ' ass ' part I believe,” Sanders started. “Tate refusing to sleep with somebody, however, is somewhat shocking.”
They all laughed at that one, and Ang got off of her. After they had shaken most of the sand out of their bathing suits, they headed back to the car. She hadn't realized she'd slept so much; they'd been at the beach for almost three hours.
“What're we doing for dinner? I'm starving, ” Tate groaned, struggling to yank a tank top over her head.
“Jameson has something planned for the two of you. Mr. Hollingsworth and I will be dining in our rooms,” Sanders explained.
“What!?” Tate exclaimed, popping her head through the neck hole. “Ang flew a bajillion miles to be here, at a moment's notice! He's coming to dinner with us.”
“It's fine, Tate, I can just -,” Ang started.
“The reservations are specially made, they can't be changed. I am very sorry,” Sanders interrupted.
“This doesn't make sense. Why did Jameson fly him all the way here, just to leave him out? When we get back, I'm going to inform Mr. Man that Ang will be dining with us,” Tate said.
“Jameson isn't at the hotel.”
“Huh?”
“He's not there. His appointment ran late. He will be meeting you at dinner.”
Tate groaned.
The whole
“Why doesn't that surprise me?”
“He asked me if I ever miss sleeping with you. Isn't that weird? He's never asked me something like that before,” Tate started.
“He's threatened by me. Good. I like it,” Ang teased. Tate threw a handful of sand at him.
“Shut up.”
“And what did you say?” he asked. She shrugged.
“I told the truth – no. I mean, we had some great times, Angie-wangy, but I love my life now,” she was truthful. Ang nodded.
“Yeah. Life isn't so bad,” he agreed, letting sand run through his fingers.
“So you don't miss it at all?” Tate asked, but she was smiling. Ang snorted.
“Tater tot, do you know what I was doing before I got on the plane? Having a foursome with three of the top winners from AVN last year. I love you, you fuck like a champion, but I'm good,” he assured her. Tate burst out laughing and threw more sand at him.
“Oh geez, what happened to ' I'm over having sex ', Mr. Jaded-One? Pffft , having foursomes. Over sex, my ass,” Tate kept shoveling sand at him.
“Okay, maybe ' over it ' was an exaggeration. Stop!” he shouted, shoving sand back at her.
“How come we never had a foursome?” Tate demanded, turning her head away and just blindly flinging sand.
“Hey, I tried! Remember that open house we went to!?” Ang reminded her, and then a handful of sand hit her in the chest.
“Angier! I was not going to fuck some random couple at a house viewing! We were there for the free food!” Tate shouted.
“You were always too prudish for me, thank god Satan came along,” he teased.
Tate gasped and turned to face him, only to get sand thrown in her open mouth. While she gagged and coughed, Ang tackled her to the ground. They rolled around in the sand, limbs flailing, struggling to shove as much sand as they could into each others' clothing.
“I can't breathe,” Tate hacked as he pinned her arms above her head and straddled her waist.
“Do you give?” he asked, gripping both her wrists with one hand while his free hand scooped up more sand.
“I give, I give, you win, get off of me,” she begged, rolling her hips.
“Hmmm, now that I've got you at my disposal …,” Ang murmured.
“Stop it,” Tate laughed.
“All this talk of foursomes has gotten me pretty worked up,” he told her.
“Please. You couldn't handle me, I'm way freakier now then when we used to sleep together,” she taunted.
“I'd like to test that theory.”
“ Pffft , too bad.”
“ Ahem. ”
They both snapped their heads up to see Sanders standing behind them.
“Ang is being an ass!” Tate whined.
“Tate's refusing to sleep with me!” Ang whined as well.
“The ' ass ' part I believe,” Sanders started. “Tate refusing to sleep with somebody, however, is somewhat shocking.”
They all laughed at that one, and Ang got off of her. After they had shaken most of the sand out of their bathing suits, they headed back to the car. She hadn't realized she'd slept so much; they'd been at the beach for almost three hours.
“What're we doing for dinner? I'm starving, ” Tate groaned, struggling to yank a tank top over her head.
“Jameson has something planned for the two of you. Mr. Hollingsworth and I will be dining in our rooms,” Sanders explained.
“What!?” Tate exclaimed, popping her head through the neck hole. “Ang flew a bajillion miles to be here, at a moment's notice! He's coming to dinner with us.”
“It's fine, Tate, I can just -,” Ang started.
“The reservations are specially made, they can't be changed. I am very sorry,” Sanders interrupted.
“This doesn't make sense. Why did Jameson fly him all the way here, just to leave him out? When we get back, I'm going to inform Mr. Man that Ang will be dining with us,” Tate said.
“Jameson isn't at the hotel.”
“Huh?”
“He's not there. His appointment ran late. He will be meeting you at dinner.”
Tate groaned.
The whole
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