“Go ahead, I’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms.”
“We’ll see.” He pressed the start button.
“I’ll have you know I have skills. The twins and I play Fortnite all the time.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Cool. We’ll play that instead.”
The doorbell chimed.
“Right back.”
~
He returned a short time later, carrying a tray of food.
“You plated our food?”
“Yeah.” His brow wrinkled. “I couldn’t allow you to eat apple cinnamon pancakes in a Styrofoam container.”
“You remembered the egg sunny side up and turkey sausage links.”
He sat next to me and nodded.
“Let me guess what’s in the omelet.” I closed one eye. “Hm, swiss and Colby cheese, green and red peppers. Gross.”
“Yup, my fav.”
I hated how well we knew each other. Didn’t matter that we didn’t see each other often over the years. We knew each other better than anyone else.
“You ordered from Mortons.”
“Yup, we ate breakfast there so many times.”
I smiled at the memory. “We did.”
“That’s how I knew your favorite breakfast meal was apple cinnamon pancakes. You ordered them every time we went there.” He sipped his orange juice.
A tingle slipped up my spine. I broke our gaze and sipped my orange juice.
After breakfast we picked up the controllers.
His arms brushed against mine.
“Tate scoot down. We don’t have to sit this close.”
“No?”
“Fine, stay. I’ll move.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist, pinning me next to him. “There was a time being this close together was second nature for us.”
“Remember sneaking in my bedroom when you spent the night, and we created a tent on my bed to hide from the storm?”
I smiled. “That’s one of my favorite memories. Mason had no idea I was in there with you. Asleep.”
I relaxed my shoulders, leaning into him.
“You were all mine on those stormy nights.”
My cheeks heated. I peeked up at him. Tate closed the space between us. His dark blue alluring eyes drew me in. Those perfect thin pink lips parted. He yanked the ponytail holder out of my hair. My dark locks cascaded over my shoulders. His eyes studied my features. Tate was deep in thought. His fingers swept up my neck. He gripped my hair, inching me closer. Our lips collided. Electricity sparked between us. He bit my lower lip.
“So, fucking sexy,” he muttered.
He cocked his head to the side and our lips intertwined. My fingers brushed his chest. He tossed the remotes aside and pulled me under him. My legs fell open and his hard-muscled frame leaned into mine. Tate crushed my lips. His hard cock pressed against my thigh. This time was long overdue. He was always mine, and I was his. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his face closer as if we could get any closer. My tongue slipped between his lips. Our tongues danced the perfect harmony.
“Yes,” I moaned, catching my breath between kisses. His hand disappeared under my shirt, sweeping over my breasts.
I dreamed about this moment so many times. It was finally happening. My ass raised off the sofa. I circled my core against his hard cock.
“You feel that?” His voice was rough.
“Yes.”
“Do you want it?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
He gripped my hair harder, tilting my head back, and he bit my neck. The dam broke again. Shit.
His other hand slipped inside my soaked panties.
“Fuck, you’re wet.” His thumb lightly circled my clit. Every nerve ending in my body went berserk. I’d never been touched. Tate was the only guy I ever wanted to touch me.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” I gripped his hair tighter.
Every bitch in school already had a piece of what once belonged to me. What they didn’t have was his deepest darkest parts. Only I could make him love and hate me at the same time.
His lips brushed against mine as his fingers quickened over my clit. My chest heaved. I could feel it building.
“You’re mine.” He groaned. “You were mine first. You’ve always been mine,” he growled against my lips. Heat struck my body in waves and my eyes rolled back in my head. My body violently shook against his.
“I knew you’d fall apart for me. So perfectly,” he breathed.
What did that mean? Did he dream about us too?
He dipped his head under my shirt. Tate’s tongue circled across my belly. He peeled my leggings down my hips. His lips swept over the delicate skin on my hip under the waistband of my panties. The air caught in my throat.
“What are these three lines?” His fingers slipped across my cuts.
“Nothing.”
His dark blues stared into mine with disbelief. He yanked the leggings off in one fail swoop.
He reached for the hem of my shirt.
“Tate, no.”
“I can’t take off your shirt?”
He peeled his shirt over his head, revealing every rippling muscle in all the best places. I slid my fingers over every tight muscle.
“Go ahead, baby. Your turn.”
“Tate, don’t make me.”
“I won’t.” He grabbed the bottom of my shirt, whipped it over my head, and tossed it to the floor.
I crossed my arms over my chest.
“No more hiding. There was a time you loved wearing short sleeve shirts. Now you wear long sleeves if it’s ninety degrees or fifty.”
He grabbed my arms and held them apart. His mouth dropped open as his eyes combed my skin. The complete and utter shock on his face, shattered my heart.
“Shit, these scars are why Matt didn’t want you to be left alone?”
Tears pooled in my eyes and my lips trembled. “Yes.”
“Wait a minute, through the years you’ve visited with your parents, but I don’t recall you and Matt talking that much. He mainly played the video game in my room. Did he learn about your cuts this summer?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“Bullshit. I see right through you, Chelsea. Tell me the truth.”
“Just leave.” Tears slipped down my cheek.
“Bye, Tate.”
His nostrils flared. “When did this first happen?”
“Tate please, stop? It’s in the past.”
His eyes filled with rage. “When the fuck did this first happen?” He roared.
“After you blamed me for Mason’s death. There are you happy now!”
I jumped up and ran toward the door. His big strong arms wrapped around my waist.
“Tell me everything,” he growled.
“No.”
“No?” His eyebrows lifted.
Tate sat me in his lap. “What do you mean no?”
“I will give you the same thing you give me. Nothing.” I slammed the edges of my hands into his chest.
My face was snotty and wet. For the first time I felt free. I was spent from all the lies. He didn’t deserve to know my entire truth until he could talk about his brother.
“Your mother confided in my mom, didn’t she?”
“They are best friends. They’ve been best friends since they were little. There is nothing the other doesn’t know.”
Tate gripped his hair. “If I wouldn’t have stayed with you after what happened with Ethan would you have tried to cut your arms?”
I hesitated. “No.”
“And today?”
“I would have been tempted to. Matt told me if I did it again, he wouldn’t keep my secret anymore. He threatened to tell you.”
Tate reached into the side chair pocket, then placed a tissue over my nose ordering me to blow, and cleaned my face.
He dropped his head against the sofa, staring through me.
“I’m not allowed to be home alone. I’ll text Matt and ask him to stay with me until Nina and
the kids return.”
“No.” He pinched his eyes shut.
“I’ll tell your parents you didn’t feel well, and I stayed with you until you felt better.”
“And I’ll get you off the hook. You don’t have to drive me to school. We can go back to the way things were.”
All my scars were exposed while sitting in his lap, wearing only my bra and panties.
Then his eyes widened, like a light bulb turned on. He grabbed my hand, running his finger across my bruised sore palm. “How did you really injure your hand?”
I hesitated. “I pressed my palm against a sharp metal rod under the lunch table until I bled.”
“So, you are still harming yourself, just in other ways. Fuck I knew something was off. You dripped a trail of blood down the hall and you were fucking immune to it.” His big hands cupped my face. “What sent you over the edge?”
“It was the first day of school. I’d been outcast. Pretty rough day, I’d say.”
“Bullshit, what was the trigger? That’s what it’s called right?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened in the lunchroom? Was it the confrontation with Brittany?” He pinned my arms at my sides.
“No. She sat in your lap kissing you. She winked at me. Rubbing it in my face that you belonged to her.” I bit out.
He grabbed my arm, twisted my body, and searched my back for scars.
“Show me every place you cut yourself,” he scowled.
“This is demoralizing.” I stood, facing him.
“I don’t give a shit,” he growled.
I lifted my arm and peeled back the side of my pink bra revealing two tiny cuts.
“When and where were those done?”
I bit my lower lip. “In my shower at the beginning of the summer.”
Shame and embarrassment engulfed me.
His head fell upon my stomach and he sighed.
Tate sat back and studied the cuts on my arms. “There’s a pattern.”
He glanced at my opposite hip glaring at identical cuts.
I slipped down the waistband of my panties a hair. His fingers grazed over my last secret cuts. He’d never seen me naked. I felt nude standing in only my bra and panties.
My body quivered under his touch. Even though he was the reason for my scars.
“Look at me, Chelsea.”
I peeked into his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Stop harming yourself.” Tate’s lips melted against the scars on my hip. A chill shot up my spine.
He helped me back into my clothes.
“I will help you fall asleep a few more nights.”
Tears threatened to burst forth. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I didn’t fucking ask you either.”
Tate dimmed the lights and reclined in the chair. “Grab the blanket and come here.”
“I’ll lay at the opposite end.”
“It isn’t a request.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me against his hard-muscled body. Tate snatched the blanket off the sofa and draped it over us.
“Why did you have to embarrass me in that way? Making me reveal every scar.” My head rested under Tate’s neck.
“I needed to know where every scar was that way I’ll know if any new ones appear.” His deep vocals vibrated through my body. I wanted to grab his hand and slide his talented fingers into my panties again. I hated how easily I could drift off to sleep in his arms. Fucker.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The front door slammed. “Chelsea,” Dad called out.
“I’d say he’s pissed.” I followed Tate toward the living room.
Dad’s eyes narrowed between us. “What are you doing here with my daughter? Alone.”
“She wasn’t feeling well. Chelsea said she wasn’t allowed to be home alone. So, I’ve been baby-sitting all day.”
I smirked. Baby-sitting, huh? I was having withdrawals already. Desperately needing his fingers to work my greedy clit again and squeeze out another earth-shattering orgasm like I never had before. And I do mean never. Not that I didn’t want to be touched. It was just the guy I wanted to touch me he and I weren’t on great terms. We still weren’t. Our emotions got the best of us and we almost took things too far.
“Did you tell him why?”
“Yes, but not everything.” My arms crossed my chest. “He doesn’t deserve to know the rest.” I rolled my eyes at Tate.
Dad's eyes widened. “It has everything to do with him.”
“Still not telling. Oh, and I am perfectly fine to drive myself to school. I am just fine not being in Tate’s presence at school.”
He flashed that handsome smile. “Goodbye, Mr. Culver.”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Check you later, brat.”
“You won’t.” I stormed up the stairs to my bedroom.
~
My parents summonsed me to the kitchen later that evening.
Mom’s hands were braced on the custom silver, marble countertop. Dad leaned his elbow on the counter cupping his hand over his mouth.
My brow wrinkled as I glanced between them, plopping in the leather stool at the counter. “Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, the kid who assaulted you.” My father ran his hand across his lips.
“He’s left the country?”
I gaped, stumbling to my feet. Mom rushed to my side, pulling me into her arms.
This was a fucking nightmare.
“Did you talk to his parents?”
“I spoke with the servants. They claimed Ethan’s father was working at one of their company’s international branches. Ethan and his mother decided to reconnect their family.”
“Bull!” I stepped back, clutching my hair.
“She covered for her son and fled the country before we were able to make a move.”
Dad stood, wrapping his arms around me. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks. Ethan could violate me and flee the country. In an attempt to catch an elite, strategy was in order.
“You need to keep your bedroom door open tonight.” Dad held me tighter. “Don’t let this bring you down. You’ve done so well lately.”
My parents couldn’t watch me every second of the day. I relapsed. If I confided in mom and dad, they would have sent me back to therapy or worse the psychiatric hospital.
“Try to eat dinner,” he said.
Sitting around the table with my family, I smiled on the outside and cried on the inside. My ex-best friend sent a guy to violate me for her own personal revenge. She would see my face soon. Again, strategy was the play. The chance to slam my stiletto on her neck was definitely in the foreseeable future.
Flipping through channels on my oversized seventy-two-inch TV was all I could do at ten thirty at night. I couldn’t stay in the shower too long crying. If I did, my mother would demand I open the door. The urge to grab a razor consumed my thoughts. I clutched my knees, staring at the floor board where they were stored.
“Hey.”
Fuck, he really came back. Tate needed to leave. I didn’t have the energy to fight with him again today. Every time Tate was close my body was on fire. The sound of his deep voice sent shock waves to my clit. I was salivating.
His fingers strolling through my wetness would’ve been the perfect ending to my shitty day. Well, today wasn’t all bad. Shit, who was I kidding most of it was the worse.
He closed the door and sat beside me.
“Your mom said to bring a few of your favorite treats. Might make you feel better. I brought your favorite caramel popcorn, strawberry lemonade and a chocolate bar.”
I fell back against the puffy pink headboard. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know. I hoped the junk food would help a little.” He slid his hand over his mouth.
My eyes widened, and I sat straight up. “What happened to your hand? I know it wasn’t like that after fighting Ethan.” His red and blue knuckles were like the size of large rocks.
He shrugged and grabbed the remote. “What lame ass show are you watching before you attempt to go to sleep?”
The butterflies swirled in my tummy. Why could I sleep well with Tate wrapped around me? Was it starvation from years of not being in close proximities? The one decent thing he did since I’ve returned to Haven River was defended me against an evil spawn. Each time Tate slammed his fist into Ethan’s face his eyes grew darker and colder. Ethan was his football rival. He took that rivalry to the next level entering Tate’s home with the intention to violate me. Make me pay for something he had nothing to do with. What did Marisa promise him? I mean what would make a high school jock risk everything? Something bigger was at stake and I planned to find out just what it was. “I don’t need you. Get the fuck out,” I shoved my hands into his muscled shoulder.
His body barely moved. Tate chuckled, flipping through the channels.
Asshat. I twisted the cap off of my favorite drink and tossed the junk food on the nightstand. He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his legs at his ankles.
“Tate, seriously get the fuck out.”
His chiseled jaw ticked.
“Fine.”
Tate hopped off my bed. I slid under the sheet.
He grabbed the blanket off the end of the bed.
My mouth dropped opened. “Tate, what are you doing?”
He laid in the bright red chaise lounge chair. “Turn the lights off will you.”
He slipped his fingers through his disheveled black hair. I remembered how good his hair felt under my fingertips.
“Chelse, what’s the matter? I know. You want a goodnight kiss?” He flashed a devilish smile. “Where do you want it?”
He leaned forward and pointed. “On those lips.” I pulled my lower lip into my mouth without even realizing I’d done it until it was too late.
“Oh, I know. You want a kiss on the other set of lips.” He licked his sexy fucking lips.
Poker face, Chelsea. Instead I visibly swallowed as I came a little.
The thought of how vulnerable he made me earlier flashed before my eyes.
My lips tightened. “Step one foot over here and I’ll knee you in the family jewels.”
You're To Blame: A High School Bully Romance (Haven Saints High) Page 8