by V. Theia
He shared that news once he got her in the truck.
“No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you.”
Wasn’t she getting it yet? Tag did whatever the fuck he wanted.
“Don’t you wanna be able to Facetime with your kids whenever you want to?”
The question hesitated her, witnessing the pain and longing firsthand. He shouldn’t use her heart against her to get his own way. While he pulled out into traffic, he watched her nibble on her full lower lip. Sitting so properly; he wondered what she’d look like if he dirtied her up, got her riled enough she lost her temper and flung a hissy fit.
Would he need to calm her down, to handle her passion with his two hands?
Damn, he had to scrub that image from his mind, or he’d scare her with the way his erection filled the cab of his truck.
“I do, but it’s my responsibility. I can’t keep taking things from you when I’m unable to pay you back.”
“Not asking for payment, darlin’.”
“I know you aren’t, but it doesn’t make it right to take things from you, Tag.”
She sounded so deflated; he turned to her at a stop sign. “Listen, Marianna. You gotta get it out of your head that you need to pay me back. I don’t want it, or expect it. If I’m doing shit for you, let me. I want to.”
“I don’t know why. Why do you want to help me, Tag? I’m no one. You have done so much already.” When her voice warbled like that, he wanted to shoot everyone in her life who hadn’t given her an inch of what she deserved.
Even trash like Tag, with a not so good IQ, could recognize she lacked care, and someone giving a shit about her.
“Friends do shit for each other.” He argued.
It wasn’t going to put a dent in his funds to buy her things and put her on his phone and internet plan.
If friendship was all he ever had of her, then his life would be richer than without her. He’d have her in his life, in whatever way he could get. He wasn’t proud.
The more time he spent with Marianna, he wanted to tell her the truth. That he was playing the long game, waiting for her to be ready for a man like him.
Somehow, he didn’t think that shit would go down well.
He loved to see her flushed face. It was the only sick pleasure he could derive from this fucked up relationship of theirs by making the color rise on her high cheekbones.
In the end, she gave in with a long exhale.
Tag came the next day to make sure they hooked up the internet. And then she cooked Pelmeni for dinner - meat dumplings - he devoured in minutes. Damn, the woman was the full package, even when she chastised him for trekking slush into the hallway.
“Thanks for dinner, darlin’.”
“Thank you for everything.”
There was stuff to do at the club, see Arson for one, who’d been AWOL again. He was done with his shit. He’d promised months ago he was gonna get dry and stay off the booze. This was Arson’s M.O. If Tag didn’t at least try to do something now, it might be too late for his buddy.
Seeing her try to hide her emotions after Facetiming the kids, he made a decision. And that was to put someone else first before his club.
Getting her snuggled into his side in front of a movie.
“It’s not always gonna be like this, Anna.” He told her.
“Isn’t it? It feels impossible.”
“I promise.”
The club and his brothers were important to Tag, so it wasn’t lost on him how valuable Marianna was to him when he chose her over the club.
Arson was probably in need of a lifeline, and Tag was playing heart games by holding a woman who didn’t have those feelings for him.
While she watched her movie, practicing unfamiliar words out loud—so damn cute, he texted a prospect to look for Arson and to report back.
When nothing came in the next few hours, he put a sleeping Marianna to bed, leaving her with a kiss on her forehead. Dog tired, he let himself out and headed across town, but he couldn’t rest until he at least laid eyes on his reckless fucking friend.
* * *
I want to poison his coffee.
I want to strangle him with his buttery-soft leather jacket.
Marianna wanted to do physical harm to this overbearing mountain.
Only a little.
She wouldn’t let his beautiful smirk persuade her otherwise.
His full lips were not displeasing. At all. Every time she glanced at them, he emitted a low-powered growl.
“You’re being bossy again.” God, she loved his commanding tone.
“I’m right.” Smirking. Ugh, why was that so hot?
“I don’t want to dance.” She lied.
She’d lied yesterday too when he brought it up. Only now, he glowered overbearingly because he knew she lied.
“Don’t bullshit me, Anna.” The growl reached into her panties, stroking her into a wet mess.
“Don’t boss me around, Tag.”
He smirked, and her tummy flipped over.
The air became charged and full of her heartbeats.
Ever since she saw what she saw in his eyes the other day, every glance now meant something deeper. Something new and breathtaking.
He wanted her, intimately.
She couldn’t decide if the churning in her stomach was anxiety or excitement.
She was a conscientious, determined woman working toward a new life. If she fell into an affair, it would be with a safe man like Tag. He wouldn’t bruise her or use her.
He’d probably fill her so full of passion she’d explode.
He made it effortless to fall into his gaze.
He made it impossible to say no to him.
It was natural to fall under Tag’s enigmatic spell.
She did it without realizing,
“You are impossible.” She accused.
The look in his eyes was overwhelmingly sexual. And then it was gone in a blink, leaving her wondering if she saw it or it was her overrunning imagination.
Dripping with sweat, he reached for the towel she held out to him.
She’d been gawping again like a fangirl while he kicked a free-standing punch bag. Marianna loved kickboxing for fitness, but she was nowhere in his league.
“Good call,” he smirked, tossing the towel aside, giving her a full view of his tight backside in gray shorts. Like she was on a string attached to him, she followed, only to come up short when he turned a devastating grin on her. “You coming into the showers with me, darlin’?”
Dear god. She’d been following him into the locker room like an obedient lamb.
He laughed at her hasty retreat. Calling out. “For fuck’s sake, dance, you know you want to.”
More than anything, to help her focus.
When she moved to music, Marianna lost herself and became someone who wasn’t a failure, a terrible mother, or someone who couldn’t see mistakes when they smacked her in the face.
When she danced, she was someone important, someone who liked herself.
Grabbing her Goodwill ballet flats, she put on a favorite piece of music and she danced. Flowing across the floor until her calves protested and her back contorted to the notes. Ballet was so theatrical; every move was precise and coordinated. Her thirty-one-year-old body was not as good as she was at twelve, but oh, she danced until the air evaporated out of her lungs.
The music took her away.
And the staring biker brought her back again as she skidded on the floor however long later.
The rapture in his eyes told her all she needed to know.
Tag was into her.
Not as a friend.
As something more. Something hot and needy.
The look grabbed at her insides, turning her into a sudsy mess of nerves.
That’s when she heard it as the music drifted off into nothingness.
The tempo of their breaths echoed through the bricks.
The drum of shared heartbeats.
It crackled the
air as he moved.
Desire.
Lust.
Wanting.
It all but pulsed a line between him and her.
Noting the blue jeans like a second skin to his legs, hugging tight to a trim waist. The denim was made for his body, cupping his ass, and stretching across his thighs as he lengthened his gait. Never faltering his gaze as she took him in before her feet moved to meet him halfway.
The thin cotton gray t-shirt, half-tucked in at the front, clung to a hard torso made up of ridges of muscle in his back and shoulders. Sleeves strained around the bulges of his biceps, showcasing his tattooed arms. He looked like he’d stepped out of one of those fitness magazines or maybe her dirty fantasies. She’d seen a lot of his body, he trained in only shorts, but seeing him in his denim, did something funny to her. Made her a little breathy when he reached her.
Her chin kicked back to see him properly.
If she didn’t know better, she would swear Tag was vibrating.
Or perhaps it was her who trembled when he brushed a sweaty piece of hair from her face. “You looked fucking incredible.”
Heavy breathing, she tasted the words, warmth touching every inch of her face.
He didn’t temper the arousal in his eyes, nor did he act on it.
Marianna was at a loss what to do.
Eager to pounce. Scared of rejection.
Limbs so shaky forced her forward until she tasted the air he exhaled. It was minty, and the hungry expression he arrowed down at her caused a fire to start in the center of her body. It bloomed outward until not an inch of her was cold anymore.
The air was thick.
God, the moment felt like a lifetime.
If Marianna were a smart woman, she’d get out of there. Now.
Tag, as if reading her thoughts, spoke in a dominant voice which rushed through her. Hard and unyielding.
Showing signs of the rugged man beneath the kindness.
“If you’re gonna run, do it now, Marianna. Because in a second I’m gonna answer to the want in your eyes.”
Pulse. Hot sticky pulses went right through her.
She could stand there for days staring at his model features, the two-day stubble, and the heat dancing in his eyes. Way too gorgeous.
When did the tides change?
In that moment, Marianna recognized the control he wielded was extraordinary. The knowledge made her move the last inch. She stepped up onto her tiptoes, putting her forehead at nose height with Tag. Her lungs stole the air he exhaled as she pressed her lips to his.
Did anyone else see it?
The fire breathing eyes.
She saw it now and knew why he needed to fight.
All that simmering energy had to go somewhere.
He was a live wire, dangerous to touch, impossible to look away from.
Without realizing, she backed up, and he followed slowly, step by step.
Tag arranged his body, bracing a hand on the wall behind her, leaning in until she tasted every note of his spicy cologne in the back of her throat.
This close to him made her feel sticky as sugar, drunk on the cocktail of man and part animal with his eyes glowing. If he snapped his teeth together, it would not surprise her.
An avalanche in her body. It whipped and sped up her heart.
She didn’t want to push him away.
Not when her fingers climbed up the front of his shirt. Tag inhaled hard and blew air over her face. She went on until she reached the summit of his collar.
It was not enough.
The small testing touches put her into a state of something she thought long since dead.
She was nearly euphoric.
“You want to kiss me, Anna? Then you do it right.” He added gruffly when she could only bob her head up and down.
She stuttered over her words, unable to translate into English around her wildly choppy breaths. She asked first in Russian and then switched to what he understood. “Show me how.”
“Like this.” he all but growled a second before his lips swallowed her gasp of surprise.
FOURTEEN
“She danced right into his fucking mouth.” - Tag
His movements were slow but reduced Marianna to wordlessly, needy moans.
Each bite and roll of his tongue delivered an electric shake up through her spine.
Seconds passed like hours.
His taste became hers.
Tag’s intensity smothered her in a brand-new bliss. His grave growls shivered goosebumps all over her body until her nipples hurt, peaking hard against her racerback tank top.
There was no hesitation, no gentleness to the kiss.
He took, plundered, and owned her.
His lips flamed into hers with a fast takeover, branding her in a way that was almost painfully real. Incredibly consuming, she knew for a fact she was going to walk around the rest of her days marked by Tag.
His taste.
His touch marked her indelibly in a way she’d never recover from.
It didn’t even occur to Marianna to do anything but... dissolve into him. Her arms wrapped around his neck. With his encouraging groan, she pressed her body into his. His tongue slipped across the crease on her lips and every nerve ending went wild.
They couldn’t do anything else, but part and his tongue slipped inside.
So good. So, so good.
It was like being drunk on chocolate milk.
An awakening kiss.
He unraveled her.
She sighed against his mouth.
Silly. But it felt right in his arms.
It felt safe. It felt like after a forever of loneliness; she belonged there.
He was a starved, growling man in need and god help her, Marianna wanted to feed him. The potency oozing out of him went directly to her head.
From her experience, men used kisses as a conduit to other things.
Not Tag. He went in with potency for the pleasure of kissing and tasting.
He sucked, licked, and demanded of her mouth. As though Marianna had no will left of her own, she gave what he asked. Losing her mind one kiss at a time while he threaded his long fingers through her hair. Holding her in place for his devouring.
He ate her alive.
His soft groan shuddered against her chest, causing her to struggle to get closer.
Tag’s follow-on groan and tight grip on the back of her head elicited a slow throbbing between her legs.
It brought her to a gasping end.
She was aroused. Painfully so.
Astonishingly so and she pulled back, panting dizzy.
“Wait. Wait.” She wheezed, holding two hands on his rapid chest. So hard, so very hard.
His eyes blazed arousal, his lips wet from hers.
Oh, wow.
Did that really happen?
“Don’t back away from me.” He said in half-warning, half pleading, and she was awed by this great man. Someone so powerful and terrifying to everyone else, begging her for something.
The words tumbled out of her trembling lips. “I won’t.”
She felt as though she didn’t belong in her body, floating dreamily somewhere else.
“You wanted me, Marianna. In the brief fucking second, you listened to your body and wanted me.”
She was powerless to argue.
She had no breath.
Only his sinful, beautiful taste in her mouth and the support of powerful hands weaving down her spine, held her together.
Marianna backed up until she could exhale. Eyes so dirty, possessed her as easy as his hands and mouth had.
She knew one thing.
She didn’t deserve this man.
Not in the slightest.
But she wasn’t sorry.
Not right now.
Perhaps tomorrow, when the guilt for enjoying even a second of this empty existence came crashing in.
* * *
Tag’s self-control was a goddamn joke.
The unflappable part of
his brain which had a handle on shit over these months, broke free and wanted to howl.
He’d been given a taste and then pushed back with a firm no more sign in his face.
How the hell would she respond if he got her in his bed? He’d need a helluva lot of desire to keep his scared girl grounded in the moment.
Thinking with the throbbing meat between his legs made him an impatient chump.
One kiss and he felt drunker than a bottle of Jack D had ever gotten him.
One kiss and he wanted.
Fuck, he wanted everything.
Draw up a commitment contract so he could sign his fucking name on the dotted line.
But it wasn’t the time.
She’d been into him until she slammed on the brakes.
They would be so fucking wild together. Mauling, and reckless. Messy and intoxicated on pleasure. He knew it.
Until now, he only had an inkling she felt anything. Shy glances lasting too long.
Her taste was in him now, she’d fired the starting pistol.
Tag would go glacially slow if that’s what it took.
If he rushed her now, the consequences could devastate, and he wasn’t willing to lose her.
The urgency to show her how incredible they could be weighed down his limbs, his muscles heavy with need. Forcing his frame to step away, he paced two feet and then turned, ignoring the pull in his cock to get his hands on his girl.
She was in the bones of him, down to the meat, whispering like a promise.
Now he was jonesing to hear her whisper it again directly into his mouth.
He had to rein himself in and didn’t know how he was gonna break the sad news to his benched dick.
Her sultry breath etched a space in his lungs. He smelled her and tasted her.
“Come here to me, Marianna.” He said, watching as her hesitation only lasted as long as a blink before she all but floated over.
He growled his pleasure. Good girl.
She was around 5’7, but appeared tinier, looking up at him beneath her dark lashes. Pinching her chin between his finger and thumb, he tipped back her head. “Your kiss was more than I could have hoped for, Anna,” she inhaled to speak, and Tag put a thumb over her trembling lips. He was a sick fucker to want to taste her nervous energy. “But you’re not ready for more. Yet.”