Until You (Fall Away #1.5)

Until You (Fall Away #1.5) Page 34

I shivered as she fingered the scars on my back, hoping she wasn’t thinking about my story. That’s not what I wanted in her head right now.

But she kept her eyes on mine, and I let out a breath, relaxing.

Her hands were going to be on every part of my body sooner or later. I may as well get used to it now.

I clenched my teeth and dug my fingers into her behind as she lifted her flimsy, black blouse over her head and stripped off her bra.

Jesus, I mouthed silently, under my breath.

We stood there, face to face, na**d chest to na**d chest, wet and hot on a chilly October night, and I never wanted to love someone so much that I worried I would never be able to stop.

I reached out slowly and ran the back of my hand down her left breast. Her nipple, already hard from the night air, was the one part of her, other than her lips, that was going in my mouth first.

Pushing her wet hair behind her shoulders, I looked her up and down, trying to memorize every inch. Tate was athletic—toned and not too skinny. Her shoulders and arms had some muscle to them, but it was subtle, while her skin glowed smoothly like a piece of porcelain.

She watched me drink her in, letting me look.

Bold girl.

She liked it and never tried to cover up or look away.

Pulling her into me again, I dove into her mouth, sucking and biting on her bottom lip, forcing myself to go slower.

I pushed into her body, my chest on fire with her br**sts rubbing against me.

I briefly registered her hands leaving my body, but I didn’t flinch until her mouth left me, too.

And then I noticed her peeling off her jeans.

Goddamn. Part of me wanted to undress her myself, but f**k it.

I didn’t want to miss a thing, so I kept my hands off of her until she stood almost na**d in front of me.

Tate. In only her panties. Rain-soaked.

Never in my life had anything been hotter.

Lifting her by the backs of her thighs, I wrapped my arm around her slender, smooth back and carried her to the chaise across the patio. It had a canopy, I remembered, and there was no way in hell we were going inside now.

In the rain—in Tate’s beloved thunderstorm—is where we would make love for the first time.

Laying her down, I saw that she wore pink lace underwear.

Thank God they’re not black. I smiled to myself.

I preferred black, but I liked that Tate surprised me.

My good girl in pink.

A good girl that was bad only for me.

Leaning down, I took her breast in my mouth and shivered with the pleasure of tasting her soft, supple skin. I reached down, and used my hand to explore as much of her as I could reach. Up her smooth thighs and over her h*ps and stomach, getting more f**king swelled in my pants every time she arched and squirmed under me.

“Jared…” she begged. “Jared, please.”

Oh, Jesus.

“Be patient,” I growled softly as I continued to kiss down her stomach. “If you keep begging like that, I’m going to lose it right now.”

I needed to get my body in check. Take some deep breaths and calm the hell down. I wanted everything out of this. More than I needed to come, I needed to feel her body shake underneath mine. I needed to see her face lost when she came with me inside of her.

Peeling off her panties and dropping them to the ground, I stood up and soaked in my girl, who was looking at me with fire in her eyes.

Fishing in my wallet for a condom, I yanked off the rest of my clothes, flinching when my aching hard-on sprang free, and came down slowly between her legs.

Chills spread across my skin at feeling her heat on my cock.

She wrapped her hands around the back of my neck, and I stared down at her, hoping she was ready. Hoping she wouldn’t regret this.

I knew I didn’t want you. My father’s voice echoed from a distant island in my head, and I hesitated.

But Tate looked at me and ran a hand down my face, making me melt into her touch.

I closed my eyes.

Happiness, heaven, euphoria—I had no idea what state I was in, but it was new, and it was true.

Fuck you, Dad.

Ripping the condom from its wrapper, I slid it on and shoved my motherfucking father a million miles away from me.

“I love you,” I whispered, and lifting her knee up, I slid inside of her.

“Ahhh…” Her body shook, and she gasped, hard and fast. I stilled, feeling a rush of warmth spread over my body.

Tate.

She really was a virgin.

My head spun at the idea of causing her pain, but f**k if it didn’t turn me on, too.

She was mine now.

I didn’t budge any further, but I pushed myself up on my hands to look down at her.

Her palms were braced on my chest, and raindrops glistened on her br**sts as I watched her breathing slow down.

Her eyes squinted a little as she took in the pain, but she didn’t cry out.

I was throbbing so hard. I needed to get inside of her, but I damn well gave a f**k about Tate, and I wasn’t just going to take her. I wanted her coming back for seconds, thirds, and forever.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly, hoping like hell she wasn’t reconsidering and thinking of pulling away from me.

“I’m good,” she breathed out and nodded. “Don’t stop, but go slow.”

And I didn’t need to be told twice.

Slowly, and with my nerves heating up at every inch I took, I sunk into her beautiful body until I was buried.

Fucking heaven. I let out a breath, dying and coming alive again in her tight, wet heat.

She quivered, and her breathing turned shallow for a few seconds, but I knew when the pain was gone.

“Damn.” My muscles tensed, and I shut my eyes, feeling her soft and hot from the inside. “You feel so good. Perfect.”

I stayed, hovering over her, pulling out and then sinking back in, time and again. My body screamed, ached, and moaned for more.

After a minute or two, she grabbed my waist and started guiding her body into a rhythm with mine. Her h*ps moved in little circles, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was dancing. Lying down and moving like a sweet dream, her body arching and flowing against mine.

She reached up and took my face in her hands, pulling me down to her lips.

Jesus Christ.

The taste of her—the f**king taste of her—was everywhere. The rain and sweat on her lips, her heat on my cock…everywhere. Tate nibbled my lips as she grinded against me like she couldn’t get close enough.

I squeezed my eyes shut and attacked her mouth like it was a f**king feast.

Hell, yes.

Pulling back, she panted against my lips. “I feel you everywhere,” she taunted, and I groaned.

“Don’t talk like that, baby. I’ll be done too soon.”

Forehead to forehead, I looked down at her wet, hot body f**king me as I f**ked her, and I couldn’t even remember the sound of my father’s voice anymore.

I took her sweet breast in my mouth, sucking the nipple hard, and felt her body quake underneath mine as our h*ps came together again and again. I sank into her, and she moaned.

Faster. Harder. More. And again.

Her breathing hitched and then stopped altogether.

I looked up and saw her eyebrows pinched together, and her mouth not taking in air. Her storm-filled orbs were the sweetest blend of pleasure and pain caught in the most perfect, raw moment I’d ever seen in my life.

She was coming.

After a second or two, she let out a long, sweet moan, and closed her eyes completely. I felt her body clench and unclench, leaving me ready to let go, too.

I kissed her gently, but she didn’t return it. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, and she quivered. She was still coming.

After a few more thrusts, I exploded inside of her with shivers of pleasure rocking between my legs and spreading through my thighs and stomach.

I gasped out, my head light and my chest surging with heat.

Jesus Christ.

I sucked in breath after breath, jerking into her a couple more times.

More.

I just wanted to rip off the condom, slip on another, and go again.

Damn. I couldn’t help the smile that broke out as I kissed her and thought of the irony.

I used to keep her up late watching scary movies, and after all this time, nothing had really changed.

Her ass still wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

Chapter 32

I dropped off our wet clothes in the kitchen and came back with two gray towels from her bathroom. I wrapped one around my waist and draped the other over her as I laid back down on the chaise.

“Aren’t we going inside?” She clutched the towel to her chest, making sure the important parts were covered.

“Are you cold?” I asked mischievously as I dipped my head into her neck and rested my hand between her legs. “All part of my plan to warm you up again.”

Wrapping her fingers around my hand, she wasn’t really trying to pull me away. “Stop,” she begged pathetically.

“Are you trying to tell me no?” I teased and slipped a finger inside of her.

She gasped, and her body jerked ever so slightly. Instead of her hands trying to stop me now, they instantly reached down pushing my hand harder into her.

Her lips grazed my chest. “I always wanted you, Jared. Even at twelve, I wanted you to kiss me.”

It damn-well should’ve been me who gave her her first kiss. And her only kisses.

“Thank you for what you gave me tonight.” I groaned at how wet she was, and I felt myself swell up and get heavy.

“I wish I’d been your first. You’ve had a lot of girls, haven’t you?” Her voice held a hint of sadness, and I averted my eyes.

Yeah, I definitely didn’t want to talk about this.

“More than I should’ve.” I stuck to the easy answer.

Their names? Gone.

Their faces? Forgotten.

I loved Tate, and nothing was better than making love to someone I actually loved.

I dipped down to kiss her, but she pulled away and looked at me hard.

“I need to know, Jared,” she urged gently.

“Need to know what?” I shrugged it off, but dread crept into my chest anyway.

What was she doing?

Sitting up, she pulled the towel tighter around her body. “I’m assuming most of your past girlfriends go to our school, right? I want to know who they are.” She nodded at me, wide-eyed, like I was supposed to expect this or something.

“Tate.” I rubbed her leg. “They weren’t my girlfriends. I don’t have girlfriends.”

Her face contorted in a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a whole hell of a lot of pissed off, and I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes.

Idiot.

“What?” she yelled, and I cringed. “Then what am I?”

Yep. I’m a big bucket of stupid idiot.

But before I could do damage control, Tate sprang off the lounge, stomped across the patio and through the back door, fixing the towel around her as she went.

“Tate!” Dammit!

I chased after her and barged through the open door.

“Baby, that’s not what I meant,” I quickly shot out when I saw her standing across the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Don’t call me, baby. If I’m not your girlfriend, I’m definitely not “‘baby.’”

I ran my hand down my face. “Girlfriend isn’t enough to describe you, Tate. That term is disposable. You’re not my girlfriend, my girl, or my woman. You’re. Just. Mine,” I bit out every syllable, so she would f**king understand. “And I’m yours,” I added, a little calmer.

She took a breath, calming down. “Jared, you have to tell me which ones.”

I let out a bitter, ragged laugh. “Why? So you can get upset every time you see one of them?”

“I’m more mature than that,” she snarled. “Give me a little credit. This isn’t even about them. It’s about you owning up.”