Until You (Fall Away #1.5) Page 35
What the f**k?
“I told you about my whole f**king past!” I threw my hands up in the air. “What more do you want?”
“I want to know everything! I don’t want to walk down the halls at school and unknowingly make eye contact with five different girls you’ve screwed!” she yelled, her eyes hot and fierce.
“None of it matters!” I tightened the towel around my waist and looked at her over the center island that stood between us. “I just made love to you. To you. And it will only ever be you again!”
I mean, what the hell did she want, anyway? I couldn’t go back and change anything I’d done, and it made no sense to relive any of that shit. She was my future, and I didn’t want her knowing all of that ugliness.
Would I be obsessed over guys that touched her? Yes, goddammit! Which was why I didn’t ask.
“I don’t like being in the dark, Jared.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her br**sts further over the top of the towel. “It’s a lot to ask of me, knowing I share a school with these girls. I want to know who, where, and what you’ve done. You got off easy. You know it’s only been you for me. They don’t need to look at me with smug grins knowing they’ve had what’s mine. And I want to know about K.C, too,” she added.
That’s what this was about.
And f**k me, I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re jealous.”
Did she think I even noticed K.C. like that? Or even saw those other girls the way I see her? It was always her face. Since I was ten years old, I only ever saw her.
She lifted her chin, looking resolute like I was about to be sent to my room for misbehaving. “Leave. And don’t come back until you can man up,” she said calmly.
And she spun around, her wet hair clinging to her back, and walked down the hall towards the stairs.
Leave?
There were at least ten different things I still wanted to do to her tonight, and she wanted me gone?
Fury burned in my stomach, making my blood boil, and I was ready to pick a serious f**king fight. I’d already spilled my guts about my brother, my father, and my whole stupid sob story. I’d talked about shit I didn’t want to, because I loved her and wanted her to know that she could trust me.
But I was done being pushed around for one night.
Catching her by the arm, I pulled her up against me and, lifting her off her feet, carried her back into the kitchen.
She tried to wiggle free. “Let go of me.”
Putting her down in front of me, I backed her up against the kitchen table and hovered down over her. “I’ve been playing games with you for three years, Tatum. You don’t get to run away anymore.”
Her eyes sharpened, and she sucked in an angry breath. “Tatum?” she asked, getting in my face.
She knew I only called her “Tatum” when I was trying to be condescending. Like parents calling you by your full name when they’re mad.
But I wasn’t mad or trying to be condescending. I was kind of getting off on her anger, actually.
And whether I liked it or not, my c**k kept getting harder the more we faced off. It was like electricity shooting to my groin, seeing Tate turn fierce.
Goddamn. She was beautiful.
Her eyes were sharp, and she breathed hard through her mouth. She looked furious and hot, and I had no idea if she was going to hit me or screw me. I only knew that both would be violent.
Leaning in, close enough to kiss her, I raised my right hand and ran my fingertips down her face. Her breath shook against my lips as I whispered to her.
“You want to know everything? Then let me show you. Turn around, and bend over.”
Her eyes went as big as planets. “Wha-What?” she stammered breathlessly.
I met her stare, feeling the intensity and urgency to understand.
“You’re not scared, are you?” And the corners of my mouth lifted when she scowled. “Come on, Tate. Trust me. You want to know everything, don’t you?”
Her face was pinched tight, and her eyes darted from side to side.
She turned around slowly, and relief flooded me. Her back was to me, and she stood there waiting for what she probably thought was going to be some twisted violation of her body.
But I knew she loved me.
She didn’t know me anymore. Not really. For all she knew, I could have a kid somewhere, and I might be selling drugs on the weekends instead of visiting my father and brother. She was taking a leap of faith, because she cared.
Reaching around in front of her, I slid the towel—her only clothing—off of her gorgeous body and let it fall to the floor. I stepped back a little to look at her. Not part of the plan, but I couldn’t help it.
Brave as always, Tate stood there, not trying to cover herself and ready to take whatever bullshit she was probably sure I had up my sleeve. But I could still tell that she was nervous. Her breaths were shallow, and her body was stiff.
Stepping back up to her with my chest rubbing against her back, I wrapped my fingers around her wrists and brought her arms up across her br**sts. My arms crossed her chest, too, and I held her fragile, little frame, loving how easily she fit.
She always fit.
“Can you trust me?” I asked again.
“Yes.” Her voice was so small. She wasn’t sure anymore.
Still holding her, I spread her arms away from her body and whispered into her ear. “Lean down on the table then.”
Her breathing hitched, and it almost sounded like she let out a little laugh. She might be anxious or scared, but she was also going with it.
Her belly, followed by her br**sts and then her head, lay face down on her dark, hardwood kitchen table, and I guided her arms to stay splayed out to the side.
Heat rushed to my groin, and I was twitching with the full-on need to be inside of her. Now. And not so slowly, either.
I had f**king problems.
Slow the hell down, man.
This was about Tate.
I leaned in, pressing myself into her behind as my hands glided up her smooth back and across her shoulders.
I lightly caressed the back of her neck and kneaded the sides of her torso, feeling her shiver and relax under my touch.
Bending down, I took the supple skin at her waist in my mouth and trailed kisses up her rib cage.
She arched her back, moaning, as I ran my tongue up her spine and then sunk my teeth gently into her shoulder.
Her body felt amazing, and I loved being able to just touch her. I’d do it for hours if the blood rushing to my dick wasn’t making it ache so badly.
Gliding one hand up and down her back, I slipped my other hand down between her legs to her heat.
She immediately bucked with a gasp and then a moan.
I ran my fingers the length of her, swirling and caressing, but I didn’t go right for the end game yet. I wasn’t trying to make her come. Not yet.
With gentle fingers, I rubbed inside her folds and around her clit, feeling her tense but then relax. The nub was hard, and she was already so goddamn wet.
It’s not that I wanted to get flashes of Tate as a kid right now, but I still couldn’t believe that we were here. This was the girl that used to ride on my handlebars in the rain. The girl that used to let me practice my shots by tossing popcorn into her mouth on a boring winter’s day. The only girl I ever hugged.
I was going to f**k her on the kitchen table where we ate birthday cake when we were thirteen.
And my dick got harder just thinking about finally having her beneath me, wanting me, moaning my name.
She started moving into me, and I almost thanked God, because I was ready for a taste.
“Lay your knee on the table, baby.” And I helped her bring her leg up and lay her inner thigh flat on the kitchen table while her other foot stayed pinned to the floor.
Fire spread below my stomach and a swirl of lightning shot down between my legs.
God, she was spread for me, her opening right at the end of the f**king table, and I was dying for her.
So I wasted no time and knelt down, burying my mouth in her hot center.
My lips found her cl*t and sucked.
“Jared,” she gasped and squirmed, and I pulled back to lick her length.
“You taste so good,” I breathed against her and then sucked her in again between my teeth.
Her breathing intensified, and her body moved like she was in the best kind of pain. I sucked and licked, feeling her need growing. Feeling her body come apart in my mouth.
And then I finally plunged my tongue inside of her.
“Jared, please.” She threw her head back and cried.
And f**k, I was ready, too.
Standing up, I pressed my c**k into her and kneaded her hips. “Tell me what you want, Tate. Please. What do you want from me?”
“I…Jared…” She fought for words, her breath was gone and her need was off the charts. Just like mine.
“Jesus, you’re so beautiful.” I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Tell me. What do you want from me?”
Sweat glistened in the dip of her spine, and the room felt on fire. Our soaked skin, the taste of her on my lips, everything created this new world that I never wanted to leave.
She’d be lucky if I let her out of bed long enough to go to school.
“What do you want from me?” I growled, jerking her back into my groin again.
“Hard,” she cried out. “Do it hard.”
And my heart jumped into my throat.
Grazing her skin, I slipped my finger back inside of her to make sure she was still wet. She’d be sore after her first time, and I wanted to make sure she could take what she was asking me for.
So wet. Hell, yes.
Letting out a ragged breath, I yanked off my towel and fished in my wet jeans for my last condom, tearing the wrapper open with my teeth. Smoothing it on, I grabbed her at the h*ps and plunged inside of her.
Hard.
“Holy shit,” I groaned under my breath.
So tight.
“Jared,” she whispered. “Yes.”
My heart was racing a mile a minute, and it took me a few seconds to calm down. I’d never felt anything so good as having her like this.
I dived into her wet, hot sex, but the heat spread over my entire body.
The heel of her foot hanging off the table wrapped around the back of my thigh, pressing me into her, and I couldn’t wait anymore.
She wanted it hard, but it was only the second time in her life she’d had sex, and I didn’t want to hurt her.
“Hard?” I wanted to make sure.
Her whimper begged. “Yes.”
So I rocked into her, slow at first and then faster. Before long, I was grasping her hips, pushing inside of her until I couldn’t go any further.
But she wasn’t content to just lay there and get taken, either.
Not Tate.
She pushed up on her hands, and I almost f**king came right there.
Fuck.
Her palms were flat on the table, holding her torso upright, and her back was arched. I stared in awe at her posture in front of me as she took more control and backed into me as I slammed inside of her.
Tate. Hell, yes.
Every second, the pace and pressure increased, and goddamn, she was wet. I held her hips, wishing like hell I could get my hands everywhere, but I needed to hold on. She was pushing harder and harder into me.
As always, Tate found a way to f**k me back.
Such a handful.
I leaned down into her back, keeping my pace steady, and cupped one of her br**sts, wanting one in my mouth.
Kissing her neck, I pressed my tongue to her, tasting her salty skin. My hand glided over her stomach and then dived between her legs where my fingers circled her cl*t again. God, it was so hard now. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and feel every shake and spasm as she came apart in my arms. I wanted to be inside her head and body, knowing what it felt like when I made her f**king crumble.
“Jared. It feels so good,” she whimpered unsteadily as our bodies slammed together time and again.
“Yeah, it does,” I breathed in her ear. “Because it’s yours and mine, and no one takes this from us.”
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