by Jo Raven
“What happened afterward?”
“After the will was read, and I got the bike and some bucks, I wanted to come back. But by then I wasn’t sure that was a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He hesitates. “I was hooked on pills. I had… I have ticks. Compulsive behaviors. I… count stuff. I have rituals I need to follow otherwise everything will go to hell. Otherwise I’ll be back in that basement.”
I shiver. “I never noticed any strange habits.”
He doesn’t speak for a long moment. His hand strokes my back. Then he says, “It’s all better when I’m with you.”
I melt. How can I not? “I’m sorry I ran away two days ago, but I it’s not the panic attacks. I was just—”
“Stop.” He brushes hair off my face and gazes down at me, his face serious. “I understand if I freaked you out. You don’t have to explain. Just give me time before you make your decision. Let me try to make it up to you.”
I open my mouth, and he places a finger on my lips.
“Give me a chance. The reason I brought you here was to tell you about my decision.”
“Your decision?” I whisper.
He smiles and his eyes soften. “You asked me what I really want, and I didn’t get a chance to spell it out. So here it is: I want you. I want everything. Not just sex. Though that’s hot.” As if to demonstrate, his arousal pokes me in the belly. “Not just the kissing, though I’d rather kiss you than breathe. Not just the undressing, though I want to have you naked against me every day and night. But all the rest, too.”
“The rest?”
“I want you to be mine.” He says it seriously, his eyes staring down at me.
“Tyler…” My heart is trying to break free of my chest. I blurt the first thought that comes to my mind. “I promised myself I wouldn’t go out with a Devlin again.”
“Well, then you’re in luck.” One side of his mouth lifts in a dark grin. “I’m not a Devlin. I go by Tyler Grayson now.”
I gape at him, speechless.
He strokes my neck, cups the back of my head. “I love you, Erin. Always have. I know I let you down, and I know I’ve hurt you, but it’s always been you. I’ve told you everything, and I’ll do everything it takes to make you trust me again. You have my word.”
And then he kisses me, with tongue and teeth, scattering my thoughts in all directions, until my worries and fears melt away, and he’s the only thing left in the world.
Chapter Nineteen
Tyler
What the hell am I doing? After spilling my guts and having my girl in my arms, ready to forgive me, I take her back to her apartment and give her a chaste kiss on the lips—instead of grabbing her and taking her on the spot.
She invited me up, but I said no. Sticking to my plan is hard.
Have I gone fucking nuts? Bring me the straitjacket.
Dating. That’s the idea. I even googled it today to make sure I got the facts right. Movies. Rides. Picnics. There was also mention of roses and sunsets, and goddammit I’ll do that, too, if Erin likes it.
My gaze lingers on her pretty curves as she saunters to her building. Perched on my bike, my arms crossed over my chest, I bite the inside of my cheek not to call her back, take her to my place and do wicked things to her.
Is this a mistake? Have I fucked this up even more than before? Did she want me to take her to bed? I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment when I announced my plan of bringing her back. I thought giving her control of the situation would make her happy. That it would show her I’m serious.
As if I know anything about what women want. I’ve always taken what I needed and never cared. Until now.
I’ve never felt so out of my depth in my life. She does want me, I can see it in the way she looks at me, kisses me, the way her body responds to me. But does she want to be with me? I feel as if there’s something she’s not telling me.
The lights go off in the lobby, and after a while, her window lights up. I still can’t make myself leave. I want her with me. Visions flash before my eyes—of myself walking into her room and pressing her against the wall, entering her and pleasuring her until she screams my name.
Fuck. I could stay here all night, wondering and wanting. So I rev up my bike and ride away before I give in and go up to her room. Full of restless energy, I drive through the streets, desperately looking for a distraction. Trying to remember what she liked when she was fifteen. Wondering if she still likes the same things now.
Well, she still likes me.
I think.
Shit.
Oh, what the hell. I’ll try. That’s all I can do. I need to bring my A-game and get my girl back.
***
Next morning, early, I’m at the same position I was last night, outside her building, perched on my Ducati. Waiting.
Not sure for what, exactly. A reaction of some kind, I guess. With my luck, a dog may have wandered into the building and eaten the gifts I left on her door mat. Or a mad neighbor trampled all over them.
I rub my face. I’ve shaved and even went and had a haircut. I’ve run my fingers so often through the top since last night that it’s standing up in dark spikes, much like Ash’s. I even bought some new T-shirts, and I’m wearing one without permanent stains. Bright white; a blank slate.
My fingers tap a rhythm on my thigh—one two three, one two three. My leg starts to bounce.
What am I doing here? She must think I’m a psychopath, hanging out outside her building. Frowning, I get up, glance one last time at her window and swing my leg over my bike.
My cell beeps in my pocket, and I pull it out.
‘R u here?’
I glance up at her window, and I think I see a dark silhouette. I type, ‘yes’
‘Come up.’
She buzzes the heavy entrance door open, and I take the stairs two at a time. She’s standing on the landing, holding the box of mocha cupcakes with espresso frosting in one hand and the DVD of Pacific Rim in the other.
I pause at the top of the stairs, scanning her face. She’s biting her lip, but her eyes are sparkling.
Then she grins widely and launches herself at me, cupcakes and DVD and all, and I grab her and spin her around. I laugh with her.
“You like what I got you?” I mutter as I deposit her on her doorstep.
“Love it.”
She hasn’t changed. She’s still my Erin. With her dark hair loose, dressed in tiny red sleeping shorts and a loose white blouse, she looks good enough to eat. I feel as if I haven’t seen her in weeks, when it’s only been since last night.
“You didn’t have to buy me presents,” she whispers, her eyes with their green and golden flecks bright.
“I wanted to.”
She smiles and lowers her gaze. I’m rooted to the spot, unable to look away.
“I should leave.” I glance at the open door, reluctant to go.
“Stay. I’ll make breakfast,” she says, her voice low, unraveling my control fast.
“Breakfast.”
“Pancakes. Come, have a seat.” She turns and walks across the living room toward what has to be the kitchen, her hips swaying. I don’t think she realizes what she does to me.
I take a seat at the table of the small, tidy kitchen, and stare at Erin as she heats the pan and pours the mix. The aroma of pancakes fills the air, and my stomach rumbles. Does she remember it’s my favorite sweet?
Erin snickers, glancing at me over her shoulder.
Even that small gesture serves to make me harder. I shift on the seat and adjust myself under the table. I need relief, or I’ll go crazy. Her every movement ratchets up the heat until I think my blood is boiling in my veins.
The pancakes pile up and when she brings them to the table with a bottle of maple syrup and a pot of coffee, I’m momentarily distracted. I used to love pancakes, and my body suddenly remembers it hasn’t had any fuel since yesterday midday. I inhale pancake after pancake, my mind blissfully blanking.
When I lo
ok up a few pancakes later, I find Erin’s amused gaze on me.
“Well, it’s a pleasure feeding someone who enjoys my cooking,” she says, smiling.
She has a smear of syrup on her chin, and I reach over and wipe it off with my thumb.
“You’re just so beautiful,” I whisper, and my dick is rising again without asking for permission. Automatically I reach down and give it a squeeze. Down.
Her gaze drops to my crotch and her pupils dilate. Her lips part, her dark nipples harden underneath the flimsy fabric of her blouse, and I can’t look away. She’s so fucking pretty. I lean closer and lick the seam of her lips. So sweet.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper as my hands lift to clasp her waist. “To take it slow.”
“Too late for that,” she whispers and draws me closer. I drop to my knees between her legs and kiss her, drink her in. Her lips open under my assault and her tongue strokes mine. Her fingers bury themselves in my short hair and tug, the light sting on my scalp going straight to my dick, tightening everything and making me dizzy with need.
I break the kiss, breathless. “Erin.” I have a plan, dammit, to make her see I want more from her than just sex, to make her say she’ll be my girlfriend again. Why can’t I stick to it? “Would you watch a movie with me tonight?”
She blinks, her dark lashes sweeping over her caramel eyes. “The movie you brought me?”
Hadn’t thought of that. I was going to take her to the movie theater. They’re showing a sci-fi movie, something futuristic with spaceships and monsters—which I guess can’t be very different from the one I brought her. “Sure. Would you like that?”
Her gaze lights up. “Yes!”
“What time? I finish work at ten. Shall I come by afterward?”
“Okay.”
I grin at her, elated. “Awesome.” My heart is racing, but it’s a good feeling. I get up, still hard, but dammit I don’t care, because I’m so happy.
She tugs on my arm. “Tyler, what do you think about—?”
I kiss her again, swallow her yelp of surprise. I take my time, tasting her, eating her up. She’s delicious, and I have to force myself to draw back and get on my feet. “See you tonight.”
She brings her fingers to her reddened mouth, her eyes dazed, and I walk out of her door, hoping this mad plan will work.
***
The movie must be good. I get glimpses of monstrous creatures and huge mechas crashing into each other, battles underwater and explosions rocking the world. It’s my favorite kind of movie. I’ve barely if ever been to the movies since I left Madison.
But I barely notice, all my attention on the hot girl curled up on the couch next to me.
Erin is wearing a soft white sweater that I swear is going to drive me crazy before the film is over, because with every breath she takes, I can see her breasts rising and falling, perfect round mounds, and when the tension rises in the movie, I see her nipples pebble.
She turns bright eyes to me and catches me watching her. She smiles and leans a bit more into my side, her denim-clad legs bent at the knee and tucked behind her. “This movie is awesome,” she breathes. “I love it.”
That’s my girl. I smile back, pleased. “You don’t go to the movies often?”
“Not since you left.”
My smile falls. “I’m so sorry, Erin.”
“Shh. That’s okay.” She presses her forefinger to my lips. “Not your fault I didn’t look for someone else to go to the movies with.”
And now I’m ridiculously happy nobody else got to share this with her but me. “Tessa doesn’t like action movies?”
“Or science fiction. Or fantasy.” She sighs and rolls her eyes and that makes me want to laugh.
“What does she like, then?”
“European boring dramas and violent Latin-American movies.”
“Because what we’re watching isn’t violent.” I stick my tongue out at her. “That monster there is trying to eat that guy—”
She pokes me in the chest. “That’s different. This is fantasy, not real. I don’t like real violence. Have you been going to the movies?” She shifts closer, her breasts pressing on my side, and I lose track of the conversation.
I wrap my arm around her back and pull her flush against me. She yelps but doesn’t resist, and then she shifts and kneels between my legs. I have now both my arms around her, and she has to be feeling just how much I want her right now.
“Erin…” Her name, her image, the memory of her has saved my sanity throughout these years. I can’t believe I’m back here with her. I kiss her neck. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers.
I look up into her face, stunned, and she’s smiling, though her eyes hold a trace of fear. “For real?”
“For real.”
I crush her to me, kiss her lips, her nose, her cheeks. “I won’t let you down again,” I say between kisses. “I fucking won’t.”
She cups my cheeks, so she can kiss my mouth again. She kisses me like she’s hungry for me, and I can’t help groaning as the pressure mounts behind my balls.
I reach blindly for the hem of her white sweater and tug. She lets go of my face to lift her arms and get rid of it. Her bra is also white and almost transparent.
I’m so transfixed by the sight of her dark nipples through the sheer fabric I don’t realize when she starts pushing down her pants until she’s kneeling before me only dressed in matching white bra and panties. Her golden skin glows. She pulls off the tie from her ponytail, and all that shimmering dark silk falls on her shoulders.
Damn. I grab her and push her down on the sofa, pressing her hands together over her head. Her eyes are wide but trusting, and I need to feel her skin on mine, need to bury myself inside of her.
“Please,” she whispers.
I have to bow my head and suck a deep breath to get some semblance of control back. My cock twitches and weeps in my pants. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours, all yours,” she agrees, arching her back, pressing herself to me.
Oh, fuck. My last vestiges of control are ripped away, and I’m lost in a storm of need.
Chapter Twenty
Erin
Tyler looks wild, his short hair messy and his dark eyes blazing. He’s gorgeous, his smooth, shaved jaw and shorter hair giving him a boyish air.
He releases me just long enough to pull off his sweater and T-shirt, baring that perfect, muscular chest, then he returns and presses the hot bulge of his erection between my legs. Sparks shoot up in my belly. He feels so good, pressing where I need him.
“Do you want me?” He rocks against me, and I gasp.
“Yes.”
I can’t fight it any longer. He’s everything to me. And I do need him, so much.
He tugs down the straps of my bra, his eyes going black with desire as my breasts spill out. “Goddammit.” Then he takes the tip of one breast into his mouth and sucks so hard I cry out.
He jerks back, releasing both my breast and my hands, and I grab his neck, keeping him down. “It felt so good,” I whisper. “Do it again.”
It’s the truth. When he does it again, using his teeth to lightly scrape my sensitive nipple, my back bows with pleasure. My breath comes out in a hiss when he uses his other hand to fondle my other breast. His clever fingers circle my nipple and lightly pinch it, mimicking his mouth.
Oh God.
I lift my hips, trapping his arousal between my legs, and he moans, the vibrations shooting like lightning from my breast straight to my core, making me clench.
“Please, Tyler.” I claw at the back his jeans. “Take them off.”
He bends over me, diving for my mouth, kissing me long and hard, before he pulls back and unzips his jeans. He pushes them down and kicks them off, freeing himself. His cock juts up, large and flushed, the tip wet and glistening. He doesn’t touch it, though.
Instead, he tugs my panties down my legs and off, then spreads my legs wider. His eyes are hooded as
he reaches down and strokes his thumb over my exposed, quivering flesh, then presses lightly on my clit, making me gasp.
“Can you take it?” he whispers, and I have no idea what he’s talking about. He bends down and lightly bites on the hard bud, making me cry out. “Do you want it rough?” he breathes, and I shudder.
“Yes.”
He suckles on it, his finger dragging through my wet folds, pushing inside me, and I can’t believe how close I am already, my legs trembling, my stomach tightening.
“Will you take me?” He licks at me, rough strokes of his tongue. “As I am?”
I can’t speak. My only answer is a loud gasp as he pushes a second finger inside me, and I scream as I come apart, clawing at the sofa cushions and shaking. My body writhes beneath him, and he pins me with his mouth still on my hypersensitive flesh, his fingers still hooked inside me.
He’s watching me from under lowered lashes. He gives me one final lick that makes me moan and jerk, and a corner of his mouth tips up in a crooked grin.
“A preview,” he whispers and winks.
“Really.” I pant, my body a liquid puddle of satisfaction. “Bringing on the big guns now?”
“One big gun.” He licks his lips. “A loose cannon.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking about his cock anymore or about himself. It sounds like he’s asking me if I can take him with his past and his issues.
I push at his chest and, caught by surprise, he lets me shove at him until he sits back on his heels. He’s beautiful, every bare inch of him, from his scars, to his tattoos, to the muscled perfection of his chest and his flushed cock.
“I can take it,” I say and stare him dead in the eye. “I can see you, Tyler Grayson, and I want you as you are.”
Something flashes through his eyes, something vulnerable and fragile, then it’s gone, and he crashes his mouth to mine, grabbing my hips and falling back, pulling me with him. I land on top of him where he is stretched out on the couch, and he keeps kissing me as I straddle his waist, trapping his erection between us.
His body tenses underneath mine, and his hips buck upward. He gasps in my mouth when I rock against him, sliding my wetness over the length of his hard cock. I remember the way his face twisted when I jacked him off in the bathroom at Damage, the way he handed over the control to me, trusting himself in my hands, and another hot wave of desire rushes through me.