Tatum Brandt loved me, and I was never letting her go again.
“I know what I want,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I know where I’m going. I know what I stand for, and I don’t do things that I don’t want to do.” She turned me around, her eyes holding me still. “And even so, without you in my life, I’m not happy. For better or worse, you’ve been my other half since I was ten years old, and I can’t imagine a future I’d want without you in it. You’re the love of my life.”
Looking down at her, seeing the stormy expression in her eyes fill with expectation and nervousness—what would I do or say?—there was only one way to carry on. One way to move on.
There were no more words. Nothing to discuss and nothing to resolve. Every inch of me was hers, and I was sick of living without her for another second.
“Do you still love me?” she prompted quietly when I didn’t say anything.
I looked away, licking my dry lips as I knelt down, picking up her heels off the floor. Sitting up on one knee, I wrapped my hand around her slender ankle and helped her foot into her shoe, one following the other.
“Jared, say something,” she begged, the worry making her voice grow thick.
But I didn’t.
Let her sweat a bit. I was so sick of talking.
I just wanted my girl.
Standing up, I took her hand and pulled her through the door, heading back out into the club. She missed a step but caught herself, and picked up her pace to keep up with me.
The music danced around us, and I glanced at Tate’s booth, seeing that Madoc had found Fallon and was hugging her back with his lips on her neck. Juliet was near the stage, sitting on Jax’s lap, watching a dancer as he kissed her shoulder.
Good. They had rides home, then.
“Where are we going?” Tate sounded worried. “Are you still mad or something?”
I smiled to myself, leading her out of the club. Digging out my keys, I hit the b.u.t.ton to unlock the car as soon as we hit the parking lot and moved swiftly, opening up the door for her.
“Get in,” I told her. She blinked, looking confused, but got in the car, swinging her legs in so I could close the door.
Moving around the rear, I opened my door and immediately sat down and turned my head to look at her.
“Jared.” She shook her head. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
I reached over, lifting her underneath her arms, and slid her body over to sit sideways on my lap, her legs lying over the console.
Her back rested against my door, and her face, inches from mine, turned wide-eyed to me.
I reached up, cupping the side of her face. “Can we just skip to the end?” I asked softly. “I’m tired of missing you, Tate.”
And that was it. No more talking, no more arguing, no more denying what couldn’t be changed . . . I only lived in her orbit, and I would die there, too. There was no choice to be made.
I brought my hand up, threading my fingers through her hair and holding the back of her head as I hovered my lips over hers.
“I love you,” I whispered and pulled her in, my mouth sinking into hers as her shocked whimper vibrated across my tongue.
Her sweet smell filled my nostrils as I sucked her tongue into my mouth and barely let her up for air.
I loved playing with her. I held her tight, so I could do whatever the h.e.l.l I wanted. For three years in high school, I’d denied myself what I wanted, and for the last two years, she’d kept me from reclaiming what I wanted, and my peace of mind was fried.
By the time I was satisfied, she wouldn’t be able to walk.
I moved over her mouth, sinking my teeth into her bottom lip and dragging it out and then diving back in again to play with her tongue.
She whimpered again but didn’t even try to resist me as I controlled the kiss. My lips hummed with the feel of her, but before I could slide my hands anywhere I wasn’t going to want to let go of, I pulled away, sucking in a breath.
Her chest rose and fell hard, but she opened her mouth again, coming at me for more.
I pulled back, shaking my head, and she searched my eyes, looking pained.
Before she could protest, I started the car, sliding my hand under her arched knees to shift.
Although it was hard to drive, I wasn’t moving her. I doubted I’d let her away from me for a very long time.
Pulling out of the parking lot, I jumped onto the highway, feeling her settle into my lap and turn her tears into an excited little breath as I sped down the road. I still had my left hand behind her back and in her hair, so I was shifting and steering with my right.
And the whole time I was trying to keep my lead foot light on the gas, because I was dying to get home and inside of her. My c.o.c.k was painfully restricted as it tried to grow but couldn’t. It was already swelling as if it knew the feel of her thighs less than an inch away, and her wet tongue licking her lips right now.
She nuzzled her nose into my neck and held my head with her hand as she sucked in a breath. And then I let out a groan, d.a.m.n near shutting my eyes as she nibbled under my ear.
“Tate,” I breathed out, reaching down to adjust my swelling d.i.c.k. f.u.c.k.
d.a.m.n, she knew what she was doing. Her tongue darted out, so softly, licking and then kissing my neck and then trailing kisses across my cheek, and eating me up like I was a d.a.m.n dessert.
I breathed in and out, punching the shifter down into sixth as the trees loomed on both sides of the dark night. We were in the middle of nowhere and wouldn’t be home for another half hour.
“Jared,” she whispered in my ear. “Please.”
And before I knew it she’d reached behind her neck and unclasped the neck tie, letting the top of her little black dress fall to her waist, exposing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
My eyes flared, f.u.c.king hating her for a split second as I darted my gaze to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and I couldn’t touch her, because my d.a.m.n hand was driving the d.a.m.n car.
I jerked the steering wheel right, and then seeing that I veered, I let out a frustrated growl. “Baby, please,” I begged.
She dove into my neck again, teasing, “You always liked my t.i.ts,” she taunted.
The blood in my d.i.c.k raced, and I winced as it tried to stretch under my pants.
“I can feel you,” she said, nudging my hard-on with her a.s.s. “And you feel you so good.”
Jesus, Tate. Stop. Please stop. I wanted her in a bed.
Her nose rubbed against my cheek, and she looked up at me. “I don’t think I can wait until we get home.” Her eyes looked desperate. “Please,” she begged again.