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  “Cash saved your life.”

  The impact of the words I’m speaking is heavy on my heart. If Cash hadn’t been a responsible kind of person and loved his brother, Remy wouldn’t be here right now.

  “Cash made things difficult for him and Harper for me. They took on an almost teenager while they were in a brand-new relationship and became my parents. I love Cash and Harper like you probably love your mom and dad. They’re the most important people in my life besides you, and I’ll never forget what they did for me. They saved me, loved me, and gave me the first safe place I’d ever had in my life.”

  I kiss his chest. “But they didn’t fix the wounds.”

  “No.” He pushes his hand resting on my back up to my neck and palms my head. “Nothing has fixed these wounds, nothing I’ve tried.”

  “You can’t give up, you’ve gotta work on it,” I encourage him.

  “I want to, and part of healing those wounds is letting you be close to me, letting you in.”

  The depth of those words hit me like a brick. He’s just called me his salvation, and it’s a heavy cross to bear, but I’ll do it for him. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

  “One thing I’ve never done before is share a bed with anyone else. I had nightmares for a while, and then it got to the point where I psyched myself out about it – worried that I’d wake up in a cold sweat, swinging. Defending myself now, the way I couldn’t when I was a kid. In the years I’ve been having sex, Tate, I never invited anyone into my bed. But I’m asking you tonight, do you want to sleep here with me? I want to see if I can be normal. I’m not pressuring you for anything more than sleep.”

  My heart does this quick jump, and I know in my gut I have to do it. I have to trust him, almost blindly. There’s no other way for me to go into this, because honestly that’s just not who I am. “I’d love to stay here with you. Just let me text Addie and let her know where I am.”

  The smile that spreads across his face is the best present ever. It’s one of relief and affection. “I brought some groceries out here earlier, in case you said yes.”

  My heart jumps again, clenching at the possibility of a future, because I allow myself to think about what would happen if Remy and I lived together. If this were our life every night. I know I’m getting ahead of myself, setting myself up for a potential heartbreak that I might not be able to come back from, but I let my heart have it. I let it think about the possibility of a future, and I almost convince myself this is how it’s going to be. If we can just keep it together, learn who each of us is, and deal with our insecurities and demons, this can be our life.

  Can’t it? Won’t it?

  I don’t allow my brain to answer anything other than yes, and after I text Addie, I push out the reality of life, and focus on the man who means so much to me.

  “So what did you pick us up to eat?”

  This night is my future, and I’ll be damned if I give it up.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tatum

  His pleased smile is almost my undoing the way it lights up his face and transforms what can sometimes be such a serious expression. His eyes sparkle and those plump lips spread wide, making room for his straight, white teeth. “I seem to remember at every family dinner with the club, you always begged for spaghetti.”

  My face burns, happy that he remembered something like that, really happy he was paying attention.

  “Yeah.” I agree. “And I’d get so mad when they’d fix something else. Drew and Mandy weren’t huge fans and made me feel like an ass for wanting it all the time. So when I did get it, it was a special occasion.”

  I’m standing so that my back is to the counter and he’s in front of me, reaching around to grab the door of the small fridge. “This is a very special occasion, and I thought you should have your favorite,” he says with a happy smile.

  Letting my hands travel up his chest, I shoot him a grin as I clasp them around his neck. “You’re my favorite.”

  “You’re my only,” he answers back.

  Those words are my favorite. They’re the ones I’ve wanted to hear for so long, but a part of me questions them. I guess that’s normal after so much hurt and drama. “Those words mean a lot to me. Remy. Please understand what you’re saying when you say them.”

  He’s all up in my space now. Decorum be damned. He’s moved so that he’s pressing me against the counter, his thigh in between my legs, his arms bracketing me, his weight keeping me trapped. “Never meant anything more in my life, Tate, believe that.”

  My brain short-circuits with his proximity to me, the spice of his cologne, the lingering musk of the leather jacket he wore earlier, and the scent the cold air from outside left on him. All of these smells meet in the middle of his chest, right below his chin on his clavicle, making me want to rest my head there. I take what I want, letting my lips connect to his bare skin.

  The sound he makes in his throat is ragged and not at all what I’m prepared for. It sounds almost haunted, frustrated, and a surrender all at the same time.

  “Be careful, Tate,” he warns me.

  “I’m tired of being careful,” I admit. “I want to take it slow, but I want to live on the edge, too. I wanna know what will push you over.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders, pushing himself away from where his body traps me. “Be sure what you want before you start this.”

  All I know is there’s a tingling in my skin where he’s touching me, a burn in my belly, and my fingers itch to touch him back. “Would it be so bad for me to play around?” I question softly. “You’re the only person I’ve ever had that with, and we didn’t exactly play.” The admission is almost torn from my throat. I hate appearing young to him, loathe letting my inexperience shine through.

  His inhale is sharp as he throws his head back, sighing deeply. “This is gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he mumbles before he tilts his head back up and gives me an adoring look. His hand moves up from the counter and cups my neck. “I can do whatever you need, Tate, but when I come all over your hand, or whatever, don’t be surprised. I haven’t touched anyone but you since you kissed me, and it’s been a long time since the garage.”

  The admission heats up every part of my body and gives me a thrill. As a member of the club, he has women who want to be with him just because of the cut he wears. “You promise?”

  “I’m not much of a liar, baby girl, and that’s the one thing I would never lie to you about.” He leans in, kissing my forehead. “Just know what you’re getting into with me. I can control myself so much, like I won’t fuck you without me asking, but I can’t promise I won’t come like a teenage boy.”

  Those words make it clear what my mission is. To make him come that way. “Food can happen later,” I whisper, leaning up to capture his lips with mine. “Right now, I wanna play.”

  Those dark eyes of his darken even further. It should probably frighten me slightly, but it doesn’t. I’m safe with him, safer with him than I am with anyone else. I’ve always known this. He holds his hand out to me, asking for my trust. Without hesitation, I give it to him, following him over to the bed.

  My heart pounds knowing I’m getting what I’ve wanted for so long. When I look back on important moments in my life, game changers so to speak, I know this will be one of the biggest.

  Remy

  I’d be lying if I said this didn’t seem like a game changer. I never thought this woman would give me a shot again, would ever be able to look past how badly I hurt her, if I would be able to look past how badly she hurt me. But here we are, fixing to explore one another for the first time in over a year. I feel like a virgin again as I lead her to the bed and have a seat on the edge. I pull her between my legs, and for a few moments, we just are. She puts her arms around my neck, I put mine around her waist. Almost as if it’s second nature to both of us, I lean so that my head rests on her chest, she leans so her cheek rests on top of my head. It’s the most comfortable I’ve been, the most relaxed I’ve fel
t in a long time. I let the scent of her hair hanging around us take me to another place. I let the feel of her body blanket me, enclose me in a cloak where it’s just the two of us.

  Our bodies have a mind of their own, though. Without a conscious thought of doing so, I lift my head up to hers, bringing our lips together. I’m tentative at first, because I’m not sure how she’ll react. Last year, there was alcohol involved and right now, there’s nothing but the crazy attraction and feelings we have for one another. As my lips capture hers, she makes a sound in her throat that runs straight to my dick. My hands move down her back, resting on her ass, lightly pressing her into my erection as we try to feel our way around each other. Her fingers tangle in my hair, jerking my head to the side, opposite hers. She takes control of the kiss before I even realize what she’s done. Her tongue sweeps into my mouth, caressing the roof, twining with mine, before she pulls back. Her breathing is heavy, and when I open my eyes, I spy moisture on her lips left behind by me. With my thumb, I reach up, swiping it clean. Her little tongue comes out, capturing my thumb with her mouth, pulling it in and sucking on it like she would my cock.

  “Fuck me.” I groan as that tongue circles the tip of my thumb, like she would the tip of my dick. “You’re playin’ with fire, Tate.”

  “Maybe I want to get burned,” she argues, those blue eyes of her dark.

  I know this about her, know that she’s the type of person to live on the edge, but I also know sometimes she does it without thinking of the consequences. “Be sure about this,” I caution her.

  “I trust you, Rem. With everything. Teach me how to make you feel good.”

  In good conscience, I can’t make this just about me. “We want to make each other feel good,” I correct her. She needs to learn that sexual pleasure just isn’t for one or the other, it can and should be for both.

  My hands move down to the hem of the long shirt she wears. Slowly I start to lift it off her body. “Tell me if you aren’t comfortable with this.”

  “I will.” She bites her lip as I get to the edge of her leggings, revealing a flat stomach. Her face reddens as I push to the edge of her bra. “Do it,” she encourages when I falter, because I don’t want to do something she doesn’t want me to. “Rip it off like a band aid.”

  I chuckle as I bring it over her head, leaving her standing in front of me in her bra and leggings. “You’re beautiful.” I swallow against the lump in my throat. She is, and while I’ve recognized it for a while, I’m not entirely sure I realized just how beautiful she was in the drunken haze in the garage.

  “Last time was so rushed, this is like I’m seeing you for the first time.” I let my hand stroke up and down her stomach, stopping at a tiny diamond dangling from her belly button. “This new?” I let my thumb caress the jewelry.

  “Got it on my birthday.” She sighs as I play with it. “It was either that or a tattoo, and Dad encouraged me to get something I can get rid of when I get sick of it.”

  I can’t explain what seeing that dainty piece of femininity does to me as I gaze at her body. Kneeling down, I lean in, letting my tongue circle it, pulling slightly against the clasp. Her knees give out slightly and she lets out a gasp. “Oh!”

  “You like that?” I question when I pull back.

  “Mmm hmm.” She lets out while her fingers tangle back into my hair.

  I’m working on putting us in a web of pleasure and sexiness. I don’t want her to think about the act itself. There’s so much more than the act. Maybe at the heart of it, I’m reminding myself of that as well.

  My eyes flash up to the black lace bra she’s wearing; it cups her tits perfectly, holding them high, letting just enough flesh spill so that I’m interested in what’s behind the lace. “This new, too?”

  I know most women don’t just have pieces like this in the back of their drawers, waiting for a man to come along.

  “Maybe,” she admits, smiling down at me. The dimple in her left cheek pops, and I can’t help but grin back at her.

  “I’m honored you’d buy it for me, babe.”

  That sassy mouth grins again, as Tatum bends at the waist, leaning closer. So close, I can see the gap in the bra, can make out the tits resting against the material. “Who says I bought it for you and not myself?”

  “Whomever you bought it for, they’re lucky,” I amend my statement.

  Reaching to the lace, I tug the edge of the material down, exposing the creamy skin and a hard nipple to my gaze. “I think it’s me that made this nipple hard though.” I wink before I cup the flesh in the palm of my hand and bring her flush with my body, capturing the nub in my mouth.

  “Remy,” she moans as she tugs on my hair, seeming to try to get us closer to one another.

  I experiment, trying to figure out what she likes. At first, I run the tip of my tongue around, then I use my lips to suck, hollowing my cheeks out.

  “Oh God,” she whines when I suck. She apparently likes nipple play, like I like my blowjobs.

  “Want my teeth?” I pull away, asking what she wants as she tries to climb on my body.

  “I don’t know.” Her eyes are glazed with passion as she looks down at me.

  “Then let’s find out.”

  I help her get the leggings off the lower portion of her body, unhook the bra and take it completely off. Then I stand, pushing my jeans down and take my shirt off, throwing it in the corner. Her small fingers play in the waistband of my boxer briefs, before I grab them tightly.

  “No way, they stay on for now. As do those amazingly sexy panties,” I say, my voice rough, aroused, and much deeper than it usually is.

  I’m sure if she were looking at me, she’d see the same darkness of arousal in my eyes she has in hers. Going back to the bed, I get on and lean against the headboard, propping my body up with pillows. “C’mon.” I motion for her to straddle my body.

  This is going to be a lesson in patience, restraint, and keeping my cock to myself, but I’ll do it for her. I want her to know pleasure; I want her to know how much she means to me and what I’m willing to do to prove it to her. She’s not a mid-twenties guy who got educated on sex through women who wanted to be with a guy who wore a cut. She’s a young woman who gave herself up to someone to just get rid of her virginity. While I haven’t exactly loved the women I’ve been with, I know how to pleasure a woman, and I want to pleasure the one in my arms more than I’ve ever wanted to pleasure anyone else.

  “If I do something you’re uncomfortable with, tell me,” I caution her as she settles against my chest, her thighs bracketing me.

  “I will, but I feel like we should do something about this.” She reaches down, grabbing my dick, which stands at attention – wanting any type of attention it can get.

  “That will be okay. Trust me, you start grinding on it, and it’ll get all it needs.” I’m not afraid to be real with her, not afraid to admit things about myself I may have before.

  In a way, she’s my comfort, she’s my self-esteem, and the way she sees me? It’s the way I want to see myself when I look in the mirror. The way she thinks about me means everything and it would kill me if I disappointed her again.

  “You ready?” I entwine our fingers together, bringing them up to my lips. The kiss I place on her knuckles is soft, trying to let her know I’m okay if this isn’t want she wants.

  Dropping her hips harder against mine, she uses her free arm to balance on my shoulder. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life. Teach me what I like, Rem. Teach me what you like, and let me know what pleasure feels like. I want you,” she breathes out before leaning in to capture my lips with hers. The kiss she gives me leaves zero to the imagination.

  “I won’t hurt you.” I vow again, as I grasp her hips and bring her closer to me.

  “I won’t hurt you either,” she promises.

  And with that promise, I drop my lips to the nipple I made hard and shiny earlier. She makes a noise in her throat, and I’m gone. I just hope I can hold it tog
ether long enough to actually show her some pleasure before I come all over the both of us.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tatum

  My body is on fire. Everything I’ve ever imagined Remy doing to me is happening right here, and right now. Since that night in the garage, I’ve wanted repeat after repeat. I imagined the things I would do to him, but what I didn’t count on are the things he’s doing to me.

  “Rem.” I sigh as I pull my lips back from his, throwing my head back on my shoulders. His fingers dent the flesh on my thighs as I rock against him. My fingers dig into his shoulders then travel up to the hair on his head when he levers off the headboard, capturing my hard nubs one by one in between his lips. Doing what we’ve both learned I love. Sucking and tugging, then soothing. Something about the way he does it in succession gets me. I’m dying to get closer to him. Each time he makes a lap of my body, I spread my legs wider, move farther down.

  “Shit,” he breathes out when I finally dip down far enough so that my panties rub against his hard length. Pulling his lips back from my tits, he rests his head back against the headboard, eyes closed.

  Remy has the longest lashes I’ve ever seen. They flutter against his face, a grimace of pain passes across that same face as he pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Am I doing it wrong?” I stop grinding against his hardness.

  “No, baby, no,” he whispers, his hands still on my thighs, gripping them tightly as I slow my grinding to a slow roll back and forth. His voice has taken on a gravely sound, guttural in its nature. “You’re doing everything fucking right.”