Until You

Chapter 31

“Jared, you’re poking me.” Tate’s sleepy whimper stirs me awake, and it takes me a few moments to open my eyes.

Poking her? I check my hands, which aren’t even touching her, and then I feel the fire and tightness in my pants.

Shit.

I roll over onto my back, so I’m not spooning her anymore, and run my hands over my face.

My dick is hard again, and I’m shivering with discomfort and embarrassment.

This happens a lot lately.

Looking over at Tate, her back is still to me as she sleeps, and I start to sit up.

“No,” she groans and rolls over, “don’t leave.” And she puts an arm over my waist, and I stiffen right there, afraid to move.

Damn, damn, damn! I’m about to explode, and I need to leave. Every morning this happens, and I’m so frustrated.

Don’t touch me, Tate.

Please.

But I let her anyway. She guides me back down as she nestles her head in my neck and falls back asleep.

My eyes snapped open, blinking, as I felt the same familiar blood rushing south and the burning deep below my stomach.

I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, shaking the dream from my head.

Or, the memory.

Tate.

I sit up, scanning the dark room.

Where was she?

I was in her bed. We’d fallen asleep after my confession, and that dream was of the last time I’d laid in here with her. The morning I’d left for my father’s for the summer.

But she wasn’t here now.

And there was no light coming from her bathroom, either.

“Tate,” I called out but got no answer. The only sound was the pitter-patter of rain on the roof.

Getting up, I stretched my arms over my head, walked out of her bedroom and down the darkened stairs.

Light was scarce, but it didn’t matter. I could navigate this house in the dark.

Even if it weren’t for the fact that I’d spent so much time here in the past, the Brandts’ house always seemed alive. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, the creak of the stairs, the soft, muffled humming that came from the vents—they all gave each room its own personality and made this place a home.

I was comfortable here.

The living room and dining room were empty as I strolled past each, so I went into the kitchen and instantly saw the open back door.

Walking over, I peered out into the garden, and immediately broke out in a smile at the sight of Tate, drenched and standing in the downpour with her head tilted up to the sky.

My shoulders relaxed, and I closed my eyes all at the same time.

I should’ve known.

I stepped out quietly and leaned against the back of the house, under the awning.

Tate always loved the rain. She came alive in it, and I hadn’t been able to enjoy seeing her like this in years. Part of me always wondered what magic she saw in thunderstorms, and part of me didn’t need to know.

Just watching her was like hearing music in my head.

Her long, blonde hair was dripping wet, and her clothes clung to her body, just like the night of our first kiss when I’d felt her curves and dips perfectly.

She stood there, legs slightly parted and arms at her sides as she slowly swayed from side to side, almost like dancing.

Her black blouse, shiny with rain, was pasted to her back like a second skin, and I knew when I touched her that I would feel every muscle.

My chest heated up, and my hands hummed.

“Jared!” she yelled, and I blinked, realizing that she’d noticed me.

“You scared me.” She smiled. “I thought you were asleep.”

She held her hand to her chest and waited for me to say something, but I couldn’t.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. I just wanted her.

Pushing off the wall, I walked over, never taking my eyes off her as I placed my hands on her hips. I locked her to me, sinking my fingers into her, and gazed down into her face, wild and lovely.

Tate never played games. There was never a flirty sparkle in her eye or a play of her lips to get me to notice her. She looked at me right now just like she used to.

Like I was Christmas.

She inched up on her tiptoes, and my breath caught as she touched her lips to mine. I tasted the sweet rain on her mouth, and my pulse rippled through my body, craving more and more.

Damn. So good.

Wrapping one arm around her waist, I held her face with my other hand and guided her lips as I took control.

I moved into her, tasting her tongue and breath until every single little squeeze, nibble and lick was like lightning through my body.

The storm fell around us, but I barely noticed it.

My hands tingled, and everywhere that I touched her got me hotter and harder.

She shivered, and I held her tighter, not knowing if it was the rain or us. But I didn’t let up.

Faster and faster I devoured Tate, diving into her lips again and again, until I was breathing so hard that I was aching to come.

I drew her bottom lip between my teeth, and she grinded her hips into mine, and we were lost.

Maybe it was her soft whimpers or her hands, gripping my hips, but I knew she wasn’t stopping this.

And I needed to be inside of her right here. Right now.

“You’re cold,” I said as she continued to come in for kiss after kiss.

Her breath was hot, and her urgent arms caressed up my chest and around my neck. “Warm me up,” she pleaded.

Fuuuuuck.

I reached down and grabbed her ass, pulling her into me.

Now.

I wanted her here and now, but she started doing shit to my neck with her lips and tongue, and I couldn’t get my head straight.

“I love you, Jared,” she said breathlessly in my ear, and I closed my eyes.

My heart filled up so much that it hurt.

“We can wait,” I choked out, never in a million fucking years wanting to stop this.

She shook her head slowly, a little smile played on her lips. Lifting the hem of my black T-shirt over my head, she ran the tips of her fingers down my chest, around my hips, and up my back.

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, naked chest to naked 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 breasts 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 fuck it.

I didn’t want to miss a thing, so I kept my hands off of her until she stood almost naked 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 hips and stomach, getting more fucking 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 fuck 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 breasts 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 fuck 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 hips 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking me as I fucked 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 hips 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.