It was such a simple act, but nothing we ever did together was simple. It was a moment in an ocean of moments that kept us alive from one minute to the next, and it was heaven.
I had spent my life living and feeding off pain. The neglect brought on by my mother’s alcoholism, the blood spilled by my father, and the loss and loneliness I caused myself by denying what was as simple and necessary to me as breathing.
I ignored truth and reason, because it was easier to believe that my power defined me rather than admitting I needed anyone. Rather than admitting the reality.
That I loved Tate.
That she loved me.
And that together we were invincible.
It had taken me years to learn, but I’d spend the rest of my life making up for it.
I trailed my tongue up the sides of her body and then came down, sucking her into my mouth. She cried out and grabbed my hair, pulling me back as she sat up.
“Now.” She yanked my hips in, wrapping her legs around me.
Taking her underneath her thighs, I slid her to the edge of the hood and thrust back inside of her, her moans traveling down my throat as we kissed.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I leaned my hand down on the hood as we stayed chest to chest.
I pumped hard and fast, two years’ worth of desire to unleash as we made love on the hood of my car. Her head fell back as her cries filled the night air, and I thrust deep, eating up her lips and neck as she struggled for breath.
“Tate,” I groaned, feeling the fire inside ready to explode. “I love you, baby.”
And I unleashed, pushing so deep and hard that she bit my lip. I came, spilling inside of her, her body holding me hot and perfect.
I gasped, sweat trickling down my temples as I breathed against her shoulder. I released my fingers, realizing I’d been squeezing her hips, probably to the point of pain.
I heard her swallow. “Again,” she demanded, and I let out a tired laugh.
It felt good that she was so needy. I couldn’t get enough of her, either.
“At home.” I leaned up and kissed her cheek and then her forehead. “I want a bed.”
“Whose home?”
I kissed her nose. “Ours.”
Chapter 15
Tate
Jared took my keys, unlocking the front door of my house—or his house, now that I knew he had put in an offer—and I was so thankful that it was dark outside.
My dress and underwear were in pieces somewhere in his car, and I wore only his suit coat, while he trailed into the house behind me in his black pants with his shirt hanging open, since I’d ripped off the buttons.
“I can’t believe you bought the house,” I said, folding my arms over my chest to keep the coat closed. The only time I wasn’t modest was during sex.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I continued, keeping my voice gentle, even though I kept having to blink back the tears as I looked around my home.
“Don’t start looking for something new to worry about.” He closed and locked the door, coming up to wrap his arms around me. “You’re going to Stanford,” he stated, “and who the hell knows where we’ll settle, but I just couldn’t let the house go yet.”
He looked around, a thoughtful expression on his face. I felt the same way. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye, either.
“If we sell it later,” he appeased me, “then it’ll be our decision when we we’re ready, but—”
I darted forward, cutting him off as I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Thank you,” I choked out, tears lodged in my throat. “Thank you so much.”
I knew he was worried about what I thought. Did this mean we were settling here after med school? Did this mean I wouldn’t be able to entertain the possibility of practicing medicine elsewhere if an opportunity arose?
But I wasn’t worried about that. He was just assuring me we didn’t have to make any decisions yet. The house was ours to do with when we were ready, and we weren’t losing it unless we wanted to.
My dad would get a new place with Miss Penley—Elizabeth—and while I’d get used to it, I knew it would feel strange visiting him in a place I’d never lived in. Holidays might never feel the same way again.
Now—I looked around at the warm walls and shiny wooden floors—I’d always have the house I grew up in to keep my memories alive.
Our first Thanksgiving, when we’d invited Katherine and Jared over, and Jared ate my vegetables for me so long as I took his cranberry sauce, which he hated.
The hot summer day my dad chased us out of the house when Jared and I set out to prove that nothing was really nonflammable.
The mornings in junior high when he’d sneak back through the tree to his own room after having slept over, only to show up a half hour later to walk me to school.
I sighed into his neck, smiling. “I bought something for you, too,” I said in a sweet voice.
“You did?” He sounded amused. “Today?”
I shook my head and leaned back, looking up at him. “About a year ago,” I clarified. “I saw it and immediately knew I had to have it for you. I’ve been saving it ever since.”
His sexy mouth curled into a smile, a curious look in his eyes. “I’m a hard guy to shop for,” he warned.
I backed away. “Come up in five minutes.” And I turned around, jogging up the stairs.
As soon as I entered my bedroom, I tossed his jacket on the chair in the corner and went into the bathroom to freshen up.
He’d made a mess of me. My hair was tangled, my body was sore, and I had red marks on my hips from his hands.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it. Jared devoured me like food. No one loved me like he did, and I lived him. And loved him.
Jumping into the shower, I spent maybe fifteen seconds rinsing the sweat and sex off, before jumping back out and brushing through my hair.
Going to the top drawer of my chest, I reached into the back and pulled out the lingerie that I knew he never needed me to wear but would definitely love.
The black lacy top was a cross between a tank top and a corset—however, while traditional corsets laced in the back, this one laced in the front. I stepped into the matching G-string and slipped my arms into the top, lacing the long, black silk ribbon through the loops, so that they crisscrossed in the front, leaving the skin of my stomach exposed through the ribbon as it threaded upward to tie between my breasts.
I’d always been embarrassed to try stuff like this. Jared was low maintenance, and he never gave the impression he wasn’t perfectly happy with my pajama shorts and tank tops. And I had been intimate with Gavin so rarely that I never got around to experimenting with lingerie.
But Juliet inspired me. She and I had trailed into a shop one day, and then the very next day we had to go back, because Jax had destroyed the nightie she bought and gave her his credit card with instructions to replace the negligee and to buy some more as well.
I was jealous at the time. Her giddiness and happiness made me long to feel that again.
I glanced up, seeing a light fall across my floor, and I stepped over to the window, peeking through my sheer curtains to the house next door. Jax pulled down Juliet’s dress to expose her naked back, and then he reached behind her to pull the curtains closed.
I smiled to myself, remembering the day almost two years ago that I’d had to tell them, “Hey, I can see everything. Would you mind . . . ?”
Since then, they’d been careful about making sure the window was closed—because they were loud, too—and the curtains drawn.
I was glad Juliet had her happily ever after, but I also knew it was past time for my own. Spinning around, I walked for the bedroom door, not wanting to waste another second of the five minutes I’d told him to wait.
***
“Tate, baby,” a sleepy voice whispered against my hair. “Your phone.”
Jared’s arm tightened around my back and jostled me gently awake. I blinked my eyes open, realizing that my phone was ringing on the nightstand. I lifted my head off his chest and looked down at him, my dreamy cloud not lifting from my brain as I smiled at him.