Brandon leans back so that he can look at me. “We have each other Tate, we found ourselves again. It’ll happen for him someday, but it’s not your responsibility to turn him into the guy we both know he can be.”
I reach my hands up to his face and hold him tight. “We’re the lucky ones, huh?”
“I found my girl when I was five years old. Yeah, I would say I am definitely one lucky son of a bitch.”
As the night carries on I feel surprisingly normal with Brandon by my side. No one, not even Reggie, gives us shit about our blatant couple status. Brandon doesn’t leave me all night. His hand never leaves me; it stays entwined in mine, or wrapped around my waist or, as is the case when we sneak off to the woods, tangled in my hair or skimming my breasts or holding tight to my upper thigh.
It’s so much different being with Brandon. He has eyes only for me. He respects me completely when we are around other people. He’s aware of me at all times. He includes me in his conversations with his friends. He asks me what I want and if I want to go. He feels like my partner. Like someone who is there for me, to take care of me, who wants to be with me weather that means talking to me or kissing me. It all makes me realize that Nash never respected me like he should have. And I never respected myself enough to consider that he should be treating me better than he was.
Summer never shows up. No one even mentions her. It makes the night easier, but I can’t help but wonder where she is and what she’s doing and if she’s okay.
“I’m having fun with you, Tate, but I want to go. I want to get you home,” Brandon tells me, an undertone of panic in his voice.
I was content to just be with him, out in the open, but his words have every cell in my body on fire. “There’s nothing I want more in this world than for you to finally take me home.”
38
The drive home is a blur; Brandon’s driving faster than he should and all I can seem to focus on is the end point – my bed.
As soon as he has the door to my house open I’m nailed to the wall – pinned in place by his hard body. “Oh my god,” I moan as he sucks on my neck, biting his way across my clavicle bone. He pulls down at the V in my shirt until the tops of my breast are exposed and he growls as he flattens his tongue against my skin, licking me, making me weak, causing wetness to pool in my underwear. With a moan he pushes my shirt and bra up in one fast motion until my breasts are exposed. I cy with desire as I look down and watch his tongue drag over my nipples, one at a time, his hands digging into my hips, my fingers planted firmly in his thick hair. His hands pull my hips up and I wrap my legs around him. “My bed, Brandon….”
“Fuck yeah, you’re bed,” he mumbles before taking his hot lips off of my breasts and bringing it to my mouth. He licks and sucks my tongue as he carries me to my room and by the time he’s finally got me laid down on my bed I feel like I’m ready to explode. He kneels between my thighs and pulls his shirt off, discarding it on the floor. He looks down and sears me with his lust filled eyes. “God, I fucking love you,” he says, before pulling my bra and shirt over my head. His hands run up my stomach and he cups my breasts. The sheer look of adoration on his face has me speechless. No one has ever looked at me the way Brandon does. The way he always has. Why couldn’t I see that before? Why couldn’t I see that he’s he only person that has ever adored me?
“I love you,” I whisper, the words meaning something that they’ve never meant before. I’m not even sure I understood the full extent of the meaning of that word until this moment.
He pulls me up and situates me on top of his bent legs, our naked upper bodies pressed together. He kisses me gently, his fingers trailing down my face, over my shoulders, down my arms, around my sides and over my breasts. “I can’t believe you’re finally mine… that I get to touch you like this – wherever I want. You’re mine Tatum. My girl… my everything.”
My fingers are learning about his body too, touching him in all he places I’ve never touched him before. “I don’t know how I waited this long to touch you,” I tell him between kisses.
“Never again,” he mumbles, his lips and tongue now exploring all the skin I have to offer. “Not one more day of me not knowing exactly how you feel, exactly how you taste.”
I moan as his teeth drag over my nipple. He expertly unbuttons and unzips my jeans, his fingers snaking underneath them, running from front to back until he eventually has both of his large hands cupping my ass. He pulls me tightly to him before laying me back down. Standing, he slowly pulls my jeans off me, taking me in one slow inch at a time until they are discarded on the floor. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters, his hands running from my ankles all the way up to the top of my panties, which he pulls down, quickly now like he’s run out of patience. When I’m spread out completely naked before him he looks me over thoroughly, his hands exploring in what seems like amazement. “Jesus.”
When I think he’s had enough time and I literally can’t stand how far away his body is from my hands, I sit up and deftly get his jeans undone, dropping them, with his boxer briefs, until they are pooled on the floor around his ankles. I slide up the bed, enjoying the view. God, his body is absolutely perfect. Everything about him is honey and hard and beautiful. “I need you inside me now, Brandon.”
He looks at me, a smirk on his face, excitement in his eyes. “It’s gonna be like that, huh? I don’t even get to touch you or taste you, just fuck you right now?”
Oh God, kill me. His words, just his words that honestly I didn’t think would come from his mouth, have me ready to explode.
“We have all night- all damn weekend if you want- to touch and taste each other. So please, just get up here and have sex with me and then we can go slow. I promise.”
“Jesus Tatum, I love your dirty mouth,” he says suddenly planted firmly between my thighs, his hand holding tightly to my hips. He lifts me, my pulsing insides raking against his raging hard on.
I moan, I fist my sheets, I try to push myself onto him. I’ve never wanted anyone, anything, as much as I want him right now. “Please Brandon,” I beg him.
“What do you want, Tate? I’ll give you anything, just tell me what you want,” he whispers, leaned over me now, his wet lips bruising my ear, his dick pushing into my stomach.
I grab on tight to his neck and wrap my legs around him, hooking them behind his firm ass. “I need you inside of me. I need to know what it feels like to have you buried deep inside of me. Now,” I tell him. They’re the only words my lust-drunk brain knows right now.
He leans away from me and I want to kill him. But moments later, he’s kneeled between be again, rolling a condom down his hard on. Jesus, the look on his face is more than I can handle. He gets himself between my thighs and my legs automatically wrap back around him.
He teases me, his head positioned at my entrance, his body not letting me take him any deeper. He slips inside of me and I curse. “Is this what you want?”
“More, Brandon.”
He does what I ask, pushing himself inside of me. Slowly. At a tortuously slow rate that has me clawing him and begging him. “Fuuuck,” he breathes. “You feel so incredibly good.”
“Ugg,” I mutter, desire about to drown me until I can’t breathe. “I don’t care if you come instantly, I need to have sex with you. Deep, Brandon. Hard. Now.”
He buries his head in my neck. “You’re killing me. That mouth of yours is killing me. I’m gonna come before I’m even buried in you.” And then he pulls out. I moan out of frustration. But then he slams into me. Deep. Reaching that place that’s yearning for him. I cry out with sheer pleasure. He sits up, looking at me, his face covered in lust and, Jesus, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. His eyes don’t leave mine as he moves in an out of me. I accept him willingly. I meet each of his dep thrusts with one of my own.
I like sex, I always have, but I’ve never gotten off on it. I’ve never had an orgasm that didn’t involve my clit but I feel like it’s building. With each deep
thrust, with each sideways movement of his hips while he’s buried inside of me, my body gets hotter, I tremble deep inside, I can feel the spasms. I can feel myself cling to him. “Oh my god, I think I’m gonna come,” I say out of sheer amazement.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Tate. I wish you could see yourself right now. My god,” he says, his voice deep and raspy, his eyes dark and filled with lust, his beautiful mouth hanging open. His strong body moving with confidence in and out of me. And I fucking explode. Staring into his eyes, our bodies connected and moving as one, him so deep inside of me, making me feel like I have never felt before, I lose my god damn mind.
I watch as his eyes close, as he moans and curses and his fingers dig into me. He lets go completely and it’s gorgeous. Everything about this moment is so fucking beautiful.
I breathe deeply, feeling dizzy and disconnected from my body. He lays down beside me before rolling me on top of him and wrapping me in his arms. “What the fuck, Tate,” he says under his breath. And that’s all he has to say. I know exactly what he means.
I lift my head so I can look into his eyes and I laugh. Out of sheer amazement, I laugh. “You made me come,” I whisper.
“You made me come too,” he smirks.
“That’s never happened to me,” I tell him, my hand roaming his stomach because I still haven’t gotten enough of this man.
“You’ve never had an orgasm?”
“Not from sex. Oh my god, I hope you were serious about us being together because you’re not getting rid of me. Ever. I fucking love you.”
He laughs, his hands cupping my face. “You’re so superficial, Tate. You only want me for my body.”
“I definitely want your body. I want everything about you. All those reasons… why we’ve loved each other, why what we had together was always different than what we had with anyone else… it’s not bullshit. It’s real. It’s so real. And it’s every damn part of us. I can’t live without you anymore Brandon, and I’m done pretending that I can.” Jesus, my sex infused brain is one sappy bitch.
“I told you,” he says cockily. And I don’t even care that he’s right, that he’s always been right. Yeah, I can’t live without him and I’m so fucking glad that he’s right.
39
Not to be an arrogant prick, but every time I look at the satisfaction on Tatum’s face- a deep satisfaction that I’ve been feeling myself ever since Friday night- I know that what I do to her is not something that any other guy can do to her. I know this because what she does to me blows every single one of my experiences with Summer out of the water.
“God, I do not want to leave this bed. I don’t want to go to school,” Tatum groans.
“We still have two hours before we have to go. We can do all kinds of things in two hours.”
“Two hours in Brandon time means getting off at least five times.”
The easy way Tatum talks about sex and orgasms and my body and hers was a huge turn on from the get go and I fucking love it. “I really don’t want to go to school and have to share you with the general public… it’s kind of freaking me out.”
“You could probably convince me to skip school and stay in this bed with you.”
“God. Don’t tempt me. I could easily forget about life all together and stay in this bed with you forever.”
“Umm,” she groans, “That sounds perfect.”
“I’m gonna play for Georgia Tec and I want you to come with me.”
She rolls her warm, sexy body off of me and tells me, “Brandon, stop. We already had this discussion – you can’t make decisions about your future based on me.”
“It’s two hours away. That’s the furthest I’m willing to go. Or, I’m still completely open to the community college.”
“Your brain is in a sexually induced coma. You need to leave this bed before you start making decisions about your future.”
“No, Tatum. You are my future. If I didn’t know it before Friday night, which I did, I know it now. I want you. That’s all I want. But I don’t want to be a loser, jobless leach. I have to go to college, but that’s as far away as I’m going from you. I was thinking, you should apply. And even if you don’t get in, you should still come there with me.”
“We’re not having this discussion right now. You do what you gotta do and when it’s time for you to go, if we seriously can’t live without each other, then I’ll think about coming. But don’t plan your future around me. It’s too much pressure.”
“You’re not gonna be able to live without me. I promise. You’ll see.”
“That’s awful cocky of you. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to manage without you for a while.”
“You already told me you couldn’t. And you don’t have to tell yourself that you can because it’s not something you ever have to worry about.”
“We’ll see,” she says confidently but it doesn’t worry me. I’m not blind. I can see how I affect her and all I want, all I’ve ever wanted really, is to make her happy and keep her that way. I finally have my chance and I’m not gonna fuck it up.
“We will see,” I tell her before climbing on top of her and preparing to show her, again, one of the many reasons we can’t live without each other.
As Tatum and I exit her house for the first time since Friday night we both hold our hands up to block the blaring morning sun. “Oh my God, we’re tuning into vampires,” she says as she falls into my car. I get her door shut then get in on my side.
“You might be right,” I tell her as I start the engine, put the car in drive then reach out for her hand. “Did we even eat this weekend?”
“I’m pretty sure you just ate a pound of bacon. But we definitely didn’t do much sleeping. You are a very unhealthy habit.”
“I promise, I’ll take better care of you from now on.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about that. Our vacation is officially over,” she says dejectedly.
Her words bring me back to reality and my mind automatically starts running over the long list of things I have to do this week. Things that I have to do without Tatum.
“You working tonight?” I ask her after I pull into the school parking lot.
“Until close.”
“I’ll swing by after practice and bring you some dinner.”
“Yeah, okay.” She lets go of my hand and grabs her back pack then opens her door. I stop her before she gets out and pull her into my arms one last time before I have to bring her into that school and share her.
By the time our mini make out session is over we are late. We rush across the parking lot as the last bell tones. The halls are empty and all I have time to do is give her a quick peck on her lips before we part ways.
When I walk into first period all eyes are on me. I assume it’s because I’m late but then I see that most of the students are reading The Observer. Tatum’s article. I get nods from the guys I walk by but most of the girls are looking at me with what looks like sympathy. A couple of them are even wiping tears from their eyes.
I take my seat and reach over to August’s desk and grab his copy of the paper.
A CYNIC IN CARVER
Dear Reader-
I’m supposed to be writing an article that will redeem me, that will show all of you that I’m worthy of my position on The Carver Observer staff. But the truth is, I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know what you need from me, what I can say or give that will make the article I published about Brandon forgivable. I’m not sure there is anything I can do.
I know it’s not as simple as telling you I’m sorry, even though I am. I know it’s not enough to admit that what I did was wrong and that I regret it, even though it was and I do. If you were at the football banquet I think you understand why I did what I did. If you weren’t there I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors and you get it.
So I’m sitting here, staring at the computer, wondering what exactly I’m supposed to say and who exactly I’m supposed to be saying it to.
/> When I wrote that article there was malice involved but it wasn’t aimed towards you – the reader. Today I played football which is something I haven’t done for a long time. It brought back a lot of memories. Memories of my past, memories of my happiest years. And while I was on that field, tossing the ball around with super star quarter back, Brandon Eastman, things suddenly became very clear to me. I realized, on that field with the man that has influenced my life more than anyone else, that my malice wasn’t new and it wasn’t single minded. It had been growing for years and wasn’t all intended for Brandon. There were four of us on the receiving end of it.
Me, Brandon Eastman, Summer Brooks and Nash Carter.
I realized today that they’re the real reasons I’ve been writing these articles. They’re the reason for all my by hate and bitterness. If you’re wondering how you got sucked into this drama, I can explain. I think I owe it to you to explain.
Even before I started writing these articles, I think most of you knew who I was. The Austin girls have a reputation in Carver, Georgia. When you hear that name you think, slut, whore, white-trash, man-stealing, drunk and trashy among a slew of other demeaning words. And that’s fine because I’ve always known who I am and I’ve always known that ignorance is inevitable so I never let the names and assumptions bother me. And I never succumbed to them for one simple reason: I grew up surrounded by people who really knew me and really loved me. I had a mom and sister who were always by my side. And, I had the best friends in the world.
The first memory of my life happened with I was four years old. It was the day we moved into our current home. The days leading up to that one were rough and hard and I think I chose not to let them sink in to deep. I let my memories of life begin when they were supposed to – the day I met Brandon Eastman. Literally, my first memory was of Brandon walking across his yard and into my life.
There was something about him, from that very first moment, that made me feel whole. That made me realize it was time to start taking stock of my life and making memories. And that’s exactly what we did. We made a million memories.
A God in Carver (Carver High #1) Page 29