Shut Up and Kiss Me: A Lost Boys Novel

by Jessica Lemmon

  “You are beautiful.” I stroked her hair and her eyes went soft. It was what she needed to hear, but it was also the truth.

  I unhooked her bra and freed her breasts, cradling those smooth, pert globes in my hands. She threw her head back when I tugged, teasing her nipples with my thumbs and forefingers.

  Her hands went to my jeans, wrestled my fly open, and then she was stroking me. “Cade, please. Take me to bed.”

  It was the “please” that changed my mind.

  I lifted her from the counter and set her on her feet. She looked crazy sexy standing there, her hair wild, cheeks flushed, wearing naught but a pair of microscopic panties.

  “Run,” I commanded. I swatted her butt, then chased her the short distance to her bedroom.

  When I reached the doorway, she was backing away from me toward a very big, very plush-looking bed. I yanked my shirt off, then reached for my jeans. Her smile ebbed, that sweet, tender look on her face again.

  Eyes locked with hers, I shed my jeans and kicked off my shoes. Socks went next. I stood in boxer briefs, her in a scrap of white lace. Her thumbs hooked the edges of the thong and my mouth went dry.

  There was nothing like Tasha naked.

  The air between us contained enough heat to ignite the entire building. My erection throbbed against the thin confines of my underwear when she shimmied her hips and slipped the panties down her legs. She came to me, dark intention in her eyes.

  Her hands went to my briefs and she dragged them down my legs, sinking to her knees in the process. Fingers dashed along my legs and thighs, whispered over my cock. I watched her, she watched me, and there in the silence of her bedroom we breathed each other’s air for a few seconds and we just…were.

  She skimmed my body as she stood, pressing her belly against my hard-on. I bent my head and took her lips in an insistent kiss, cupping her hips in my palms and backing her toward a big bed that looked like heaven on earth.

  Then I dropped her onto the blankets and realized it was. Because there was no real earthly place where I would have Tasha Montgomery begging me with her eyes to sleep with her. This had to be heaven—or some crazy virtual reality.

  Covering her with my body, our skin melded as our lips sought. Breaths and groans filled the air. My mind spun, eager for the slice of paradise she promised.

  “Condom,” she said around a kiss, “in my”—another kiss—“nightstand.”

  No need to track back to the kitchen for the box I’d bought, then. Nice.

  I crawled to the right.

  “The other nightstand,” she said with a giggle, her nails rasping my stomach.

  I switched course and dug out a condom. Straddling her thighs, I rolled it on. Tasha’s tongue darted out to wet her lips and I was over her, my eyes burning into hers, a second later.

  With a tilt and thrust, I slicked her entrance. Her fingertips pressed into my ribs, her mouth dropping open with the same anticipation boiling in my veins. But I wasn’t going any further. Not yet. I needed to hear, more than anything, that she wanted me. I needed to hear it before I pounded us both into sweet oblivion.

  “T-Tasha” was the only word I managed before she covered my lips with hers, dug her heels into my ass, and pulled me inside her.

  I took that as a fucking yes.

  Tasha

  The feeling of Cade moving inside me, the way he watched me, tasted my lips during each long thrust, made my heart ratchet up one notch followed by a thousand more. Something explosive was happening between us. Something I couldn’t get enough of. More than sex, though I had no idea what it was.

  I ran my fingers along the colorful tattoos scattered down his arm. His muscles flexed with each forward movement. I shifted to meet his eyes, light brown gone dark while he made love to me with a single-mindedness I’d never experienced.

  He saw me. Really saw me.

  He wasn’t interested in his own body but in me. He’d move, then assess my reaction to see if I liked it. I liked all of it. All of him. I moved with him, learning our timing and holding his eyes until it was too intense and I had to look away.

  He brought me back to him by sliding a hand between our bodies and swirling my clit with his thumb as he thrust forward. This time I didn’t look away. He did it again and I clutched, my legs locking around him. Then he did it again.

  “Don’t hold back,” he said between hectic breaths.

  He stroked into me again, and a cry tore from my throat. He continued and that cry turned into my shouting his name on the crest of my release, not caring how many neighbors heard me. The tail end of that cry mingled with his primal groan of satisfaction.

  He came on one final plunge, one that brought his face to my neck, where he alternated between catching his breath and kissing me. I hugged him close, ruffling his hair with my fingernails, turning my head to kiss his ear.

  “Cade,” I whispered as our hearts raced in sync.

  He disconnected from me, one long smooth pull, and our eyes met again. His mouth, his amazing, tempting mouth, wore a crooked smile. “Bathroom?”

  I pointed to the attached bath in my bedroom. He kissed my nose in the sweetest way before climbing over me and heading there without a word. I hummed in the back of my throat, feeling pretty damn great.

  —

  Half an hour later I was wearing Cade’s T-shirt—since my new dress had been unceremoniously tossed to the kitchen floor. He’d rested his head on my belly, one arm looped around my waist.

  I fiddled with the strands of his hair, admiring the various colors of dark blond and sandy brown I couldn’t accomplish without a colorist. That was as unfair as the thick fan of lashes that shuttered his eyes. No mascara required.

  “Tell me why you went into pre-law,” I said, before I thought too hard about it.

  “What do you mean?”

  I sucked in a deep breath as I debated telling him what I knew. Then again, my best friend was dating his brother, so the truth would come out eventually. So. Here we went.

  “Rena mentioned a girl you followed to college?”

  Cade’s body stiffened against mine, his arms going taut. He didn’t lift his head to look at me, so I continued to play with his hair.

  “Brooke,” he said, his voice quiet.

  “What happened?” I asked. I didn’t want to know. But I kind of did. When he didn’t answer for a long while, I put my palm on his cheek and slid deeper into the blankets so I could study his angled face and full lips in the lamplight.

  His fingers interlaced with mine and he kissed my palm. “She l-left me.” I watched his jaw tic in frustration.

  “But you kept your law major.”

  “I w-was g-good at it. Was,” he said with a forced huff.

  “She wanted you to be a lawyer?”

  “She wanted me be rich. L-like her.”

  I didn’t know what to do with that. Caden Wilson had dated a rich girl. Had followed a rich girl to college.

  “Where is she now?”

  “D-dropped out. Didn’t finish her freshman year. She got pruh-pregnant by some guy.”

  I feathered my fingers through his hair.

  “You loved her.” It wasn’t a question. One didn’t follow a girl to college, go into the field she requested, and then get left behind without suffering a broken heart in the process.

  “Doesn’t matter.” His voice was low, and I could tell he was just about done talking about this.

  I wanted to know, but not out of petty jealousy. I wanted to know if he was capable of loving anyone else. If he was capable of loving me. It was way too soon to ask. But I wanted to all the same.

  “Do you miss school?” I asked instead.

  He sucked in a breath and I thought he might climb off the bed and leave the room. Instead, he propped himself on one elbow and tipped my chin with his finger.

  “I don’t want to be a l-lawyer, T-Tasha. Not anymore.”

  I fell quiet for a few seconds. “Why not?”

  He gestured
to the vicinity of his mouth.

  “I don’t know,” I said, raking my fingers over his bare chest. All that gorgeous muscle wrapped in smooth skin. “I think you use your tongue just fine.” I leaned forward to place my lips on his.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he said against my mouth, a glint in his eye sparking in challenge.

  With that, he tossed the blankets off my body and lifted the shirt I wore, kissing my stomach while I laughed hysterically, because his lips, while delicious, were also tickling me half to death.

  “Cade!” I shrieked, palming his head.

  He captured my wrists and pinned them to my sides and kissed down my thighs, then nuzzled his face over my…

  Oh.

  I stiffened. His tongue slicked a hot path and I arched my neck.

  A few minutes later, I sank into oblivion and he sank with me. Lost in an epic orgasm, and then in his arms, which wrapped me snugly.

  He kissed my forehead. “Night, Tash.”

  “Night, Cade.” Those were the last words we spoke until the sun peeked over the horizon and filled my room with light.

  Chapter 16

  Cade

  “Weirdest breakfast I’ve ever seen.” Tasha shook her head at me or, more accurately, at the peanut butter and honey sandwich I was making.

  We’d slept until ten. Tasha skipped class, which meant neither of us had to go to our respective jobs until late afternoon. We had all day, and I was going to make the most of it.

  “It’s good.” I drizzled honey onto the other slice of bread. “My mom used to make them.” I put the sandwich together and mumbled, “I mean, J-Joyce.”

  Tasha’s hand rested between my shoulder blades. “You mean your mom.”

  I shrugged.

  “I’m not that close with my mom, even though we were close at one point,” Tasha said. “But she still loves me. I still love her. I’m sure Joyce loves you no matter what choices you made last year after you found out the truth. You have the right to maintain your distance. She meant well, but she hurt you.”

  “It’s messed up,” I said simply.

  “It is,” Tash agreed.

  My finger caught a drop of honey that oozed from the tip of the plastic bear, and a wholly impure thought ignited my brain like a forest fire. I sent a wicked look over to Tash, whose eyebrows rose.

  “What?”

  I turned and held that stray drop to her lips. “You like honey?”

  “Yes.” An impish smile appeared a second before her tongue flicked out and took the drop from my fingertip.

  “Not as much as me,” I told her and, bear in hand, took a step in her direction.

  “Wait.” She held up her hands. “What…do you think you’re doing?”

  I closed an arm around her back and pulled her close. “Take off your shirt,” I told her.

  She crossed her arms over her waist and stripped the shirt over her head. Her breasts were bare, nipples begging for my tongue.

  But first, the honey.

  I put the plastic bear down and lifted her onto the kitchen island, where I’d planted her ass last night. I’d abandoned the counter in favor of the bed, but no way was I giving up this time. I upended the bear and drizzled honey over her nipple as she gasped. Gooseflesh popped up on her skin and I chased the path with my tongue.

  Her giggling soon faded to moans and a lot of hair pulling when I diligently removed every drop from her nipple.

  “One down,” I said, sweetness clinging to my tongue.

  Best breakfast ever.

  I moved to her other breast and repeated the entire sticky, delicious process. The honey was slick on her skin, and the way she clutched my head, moaning for all she was worth, wasn’t bad either. I was doing a good job of turning myself on too. Without taking my mouth from her breast, I opened my jeans and put my hand on my cock, stroking while I suckled her, and wanting her so badly, I could hardly think.

  A series of high-pitched pleas escaped from her throat as she pulled my hair. I continued laving her, alternating between sucking her deep and letting her go to swirl my tongue over her hardened nipple. When she said my name and her voice cracked in ecstasy, I had to let go of my cock before I came in my hand rather than inside her.

  I wanted to be inside her.

  I laid her on the island, drizzling more honey over her breasts, stomach, and a small pool into her belly button. Then I peeled her panties off, this pair green with little white bows on each side. Her underwear made me crazy in the best way.

  “Not there,” she said, sitting up halfway.

  “Not putting it th-there,” I told her. “You’re already sweet there.”

  She smiled and blushed. I liked that look on her way too much.

  I glided my fingers over her pussy. She was slick and ready and I teased her clit before pushing a finger into her, then two, fucking her while I removed every drop of honey from her body.

  She writhed, her back arching as her hands held the sides of the counter. I just watched. I had never done anything like this, and I’d bet she hadn’t either. But she was willing to with me. Tasha would let me take her where she needed to go. Where I needed to go.

  “Beautiful,” I told her, trailing my tongue to her throat. I caught her shuddering gasps with a kiss. Then her arms were around me and she was sitting up, pulling my hands away and gluing herself to my bare chest. I took her weight, lifting her from the counter and carrying her clumsily to the living room.

  I hesitated over the couch for a millisecond, and she must have read my mind.

  “I don’t care about the couch.”

  Good. Neither did I.

  I dropped her onto the cushions, shucking my pants and boxers before coming down on top of her. I kissed her, wishing like hell I didn’t have to stop for the condom.

  “Hang on,” I told her, abandoning her for exactly two seconds to grab a condom from the discarded CVS bag. I tore the package open, ripped a condom from the strip, and shakily rolled it on.

  Then I was inside her, moving, sliding, the honey sticky between us, but we didn’t care. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me to her. I’d let this girl do anything to me or with me. In the midst of the best sex of my life, I realized this might have been the first time since Brooke left me that I actually enjoyed losing control.

  Which made me wonder…

  Could I lose control but still speak?

  “Tasha,” I said, then smiled.

  She brushed her fingers over my mouth, her smile genuine, her cheeks flushed. I bit down on her finger.

  “Tasha Montgomery,” I said, as smooth as my next glide inside her and back out. “I want you to come.” I thrust again.

  She let out a cry.

  “Come hard for me, kitten.”

  By the expression on her face, I could tell she was lost between bliss and bemusement.

  “You’re showing off,” she said.

  “Damn straight.” She knew my secrets. That was a new feeling too. “Let’s have it.” I doubled my efforts, sinking into her deeper, harder. She begged me for more.

  “Almost, almost, almost,” came her chant. I tipped her hips and drove into her again and she came like I asked. Hard. Her internal muscles squeezed down on my cock, the sensation almost punishing in the amount of pleasure it gave. I’d been concentrating on her, so I wasn’t sure if I would be able to—

  “Oh, fuck,” I said, and yeah, I was able to.

  I lost myself in her body, my moans drowning out her sweet sighs of satisfaction. My lips found hers and I continued shuddering long after it was over. That’s when I knew.

  I was gone for this girl.

  Tasha

  “Your smile is that of a Cheshire cat, beautiful.”

  My, but Mr. Newman was feisty today. I shook my head to deny it.

  “My guess is you started dating that boyfriend you were wanting since the last time I saw you.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” But I wanted him to be. Though “dating”
seemed a tame and antiquated way to describe what we’d done on my now-in-need-of-a-cleaning sofa.

  “Ah, I figure it’s his fault,” Mr. Newman said as he took another shaky step.

  “What’s his fault?” I asked, supporting him by the elbow.

  “Everything.” Mr. Newman cocked his bushy eyebrows at me, knowledge swimming in his gray eyes. “Everything is the man’s fault. Women are the delicate creatures we want to catch, but we always screw it up.” He paused, supporting his weight with his arms on the poles. “You’re like the butterfly, but we’re too stupid to come after you with a net, so we grab a catcher’s mitt.”

  I thought of Tony and smirked. “Or a ball bat.”

  “Right.” His brow creased in worry. “But you don’t mean that literally, right? That a boy came at you with the ball bat? That’s a metaphor?”

  “Yes,” I said with a smile. “That’s a metaphor. My ex-boyfriend didn’t use a bat, but he did start playing the field. There were a lot more girls in that field than I first realized.”

  “One of those,” he snarled.

  “Yep.”

  “I hope your new boyfriend is loyal.”

  “He is,” I said. “I mean…he would be if we were serious.”

  Mr. Newman began his steps again, sluggish, but he was committed. “From the dazed expression on your face,” he said between labored breaths, “looks like it’s already serious for you.”

  Cade

  Paul was frowning at me, and I was used to him frowning at me, but usually it was because I didn’t say anything to him. This time around, my father frowned because I had just said a whole lot of things to him, none of which he wanted to hear.

  “No.” He shook his head as if I had asked a question rather than made a statement. “I won’t let you do it, Cade. I won’t let you quit college after you’ve come this far with your speech. You wanted to be a lawyer. You are going back to college. Just because—”