by JA Huss
“Tara?”
She frowns as I descend the porch steps. I walked right past her. Didn’t see her, didn’t feel her, didn’t even know she was there. Wouldn’t ever have known she was there if Rosie hadn’t told me.
It’s like that old saying. Two ships passing in the night.
That could’ve been us.
I’m crossing the yard towards the truck now. But just before I reach it, the dude in the driver’s seat opens up his door, gets out, and blocks my way. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
I stop short. Not because he’s big and intimidating. He’s tall, like Jesse. Yoked out and tatted up like me. But I’m a very big dude. I stop short because I need to know something before I go any further. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m her friend.”
I look at Tara, who is still silent and inside the truck. “Well, I’m her friend too.”
Her eyes are sad and a little watery. “You lied to me, Alonzo.”
Fuck. “Listen, Tara—”
“No, you listen! You have been lying to me! This whole time. Two years! I don’t want to talk to you! This wasn’t my idea. I had no clue that Belinda knew you!”
“Who the fuck is Belinda?”
But Tara doesn’t hear me because she’s still talking. “I came here because I wanted answers. But you know what? It was a stupid idea and—”
“Hey!” I say loudly. “Hold the fuck up. OK? I can explain. And why didn’t you call me back? I was going out of my mind with worry about you!”
“—I’m sorry I came here. I’m not going to stay. Vann and I are probably gonna head back right now—”
I look at her dude friend, who is called Vann, I guess. “What?”
He shrugs with his hands. “I’m not really sure what’s going on.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You were sure ten seconds ago.”
But then Jesse is next to me, whispering in my ear. “OK. You got this, Lonz. Show her who’s boss.” Then he claps me on the shoulder and backs off, like those words explain everything.
I’m just about to boss the fuck out of Tara and tell her to come with me so we can talk when the screen door bangs open.
“Alonzo?” And there’s my mother. I forgot where I was for a second. “Who’s this? Do you know this girl?”
I can’t boss a girl in front of my mother. She’d freak the fuck out and boss me back. Probably take Tara into the house and lock me out.
I walk straight to the back door of the truck, yank it open, grab Tara’s hand, and pull her out.
“What are you doing?” She fights me, pulling her hand from my grip.
“Come with me, please.”
“No! I’m not going anywhere with you! You’re a fucking liar!”
“Language, young lady!”
I look over my shoulder at my mother. “Will you butt out of this?” Then I lean down into Tara’s ear. “Just… come with me. We’re not having this conversation in front of my parents’ house.”
“We’re not having a conversation at all. You lied to me, Lonnie!”
My mother clicks her tongue and chuckles. “Lonnie. I like that nickname.”
“Mom! Will you just go back inside, for fuck’s sake? Tara. You are not leaving here without talking to me. Understand?”
“You’re not in charge of me, Lonnie. We’re done, OK? This whole thing is crazy. I don’t even understand what’s happening. All I know is that three days ago my life was fine and now everything’s upside down. I just want to go home.”
“Uh, Tara,” the Vann guy says. “We can’t really go home yet.”
“What’s that mean?” I ask her.
“Just forget it. Belinda, I’m glad you found your way home. I really am. But I can’t process all the lies that are unraveling right now. And yours are a part of that.”
“I didn’t lie any more than you did!” Rosie exclaims. “You’re not some morally superior truth-teller, Tara. Which, by the way, isn’t even your real name!”
I have no idea what that means, but Tara is becoming more and more agitated. She’s looking down the length of the street like she might try to make a run for it. And that’s when I notice she’s not wearing her pencil skirt. No tight white blouse. No fashion boots and severe bun. In fact, she doesn’t look anything like the girl I’ve been talking to online. She’s wearing baggy jeans and a too-big t-shirt that has a skull across the front and the words Sick Boyz Ink rolling around it in a circle.
She notices me looking at her. “What?”
“What are you wearing?”
“Vann, let’s go. Belinda can stay here if she wants, but I’m certainly not.”
I look at Vann. He looks at Rosalie—or Belinda—then back at Tara. “I think we should wait it out and see if—”
“Oh, fuck this!” Tara says.
I look back at my mother and point to preempt her language admonishment. “Zip it, Mom. I’m fucking serious right now.”
Tara has turned away and is now walking down the middle of the street like she’s going home and doesn’t live two thousand miles away.
I catch up with her. Get in front of her. Put a hand up to stop her. “Will you just wait!”
“No. I’m out.”
“You’re not out. You came here. Two thousand miles. To see me! You’re not just going to walk away!”
“I didn’t come to see you. I came to scream at you! For lying!”
Jesse is waving his hands in the air trying to get my attention. I squint my eyes at him as he mouths the words, Be the boss.
Right.
“Tara.” I say this sternly. “Stop being a child and just come into my house and talk with me.”
“Child? Fuck you, Lonnie! Alonzo. Lons. Oh, my God. Now I know why you were so weird when I called you Lons. You thought I figured out your real name! You are such a piece of work, you know that?”
“Lonnie,” my mother says, suddenly behind Tara. “I really like that name.”
And… that’s it. I’ve had enough. I need to talk to my girl and I need to do that in private. And if she’s not going to come willingly, then I’m going to make her.
I reach down, grab her by the waist, hurl her over my shoulder, and start walking towards my front porch.
“Fuck, yeah, Lonz!” Jesse says, pumping a fist in the air.
“Language, Jesse!”
Tara is screaming, “Put me down, you fucking caveman!” She bangs her little fists on my back and kicks her feet.
I slap her ass and hiss, “Stop it! Right now!” as I carry her up the porch steps and inside my house.
The last thing I hear before slamming the front door closed behind us is Jesse yelling, “Be the boss!”
“Put me down!” Tara is still kicking and punching.
I walk over to the couch and throw her down into the cushions. “There! You’re down. And you’re going to stay down until you calm your shit and listen to me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup. You heard him. I’m the boss.”
She scrambles. I reach for her just as she’s about to slip past me, grab her by the pant leg, and she falls to the floor, kicking at me to try to get free.
I flip her over, climb on top of her, lean down into her face and stare straight into her eyes. “Tara Tanner. Stop it right now.”
“Or what?”
“Or…”
I kiss her. I kiss her right on the mouth. She struggles underneath me. Which only makes this whole scene that much hotter in my opinion. She grabs my hair, refusing to kiss me back. And I’m just about to give up and let her—say fuck it to this entire shit show of a situation—when her lips soften against mine.
I grab her hair too. Hold her still underneath me. My cock growing hard in my pants.
I kiss her for real for the very first time.
Her mouth opens and my tongue slides against hers. And then she’s flipping me over. Climbing on top of me now. Her legs straddle my middle, and her hands press against my face.<
br />
It’s like my wildest dreams just came true.
She breaks the kiss and I stare into her eyes. They are the most brilliant blue I’ve ever seen. And I know I’ve seen those eyes hundreds of times over the past two years, but this moment—when she’s right here in front of me in real life—I’ve never seen them like this.
She sits up. Her sexy blonde hair is a tangled mess covering her eyes and sticking to her lips. She takes a deep breath and holds it.
Then she slaps me right across the face.
“What the—”
“I cannot fucking believe you’ve been catfishing me this whole time! You are the biggest dick ever! I will never be able to trust you again! What else are you hiding? Why were you lying? It’s bad enough you have a Spanish name and tattoos all over your damn body, but I swear to fucking God, Alonzo Dumas, if you’re some career criminal who thinks he can just walk all over me like I’m some piece of shit under your shoe, you better rethink that, buddy! I will not be put in that position again! Do you hear me?”
Hear her? She’s practically screaming in my ear.
“Tara?”
“What!”
“I think I love you.”
“What?” She spits hair out of her mouth.
I reach up with both hands.
She leans back and shakes her head. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“OK. Fine. But you’re sitting on top of me. Rubbing your hot fucking pussy right over my fat cock that, by the way? Has not seen any real-life action in over two damn years. So if you do not want me to fuck your brains out right now, you’d better get your sassy little ass up and onto that couch and start acting like a rational person.”
“Rational? I’m on the fucking floor because you tripped me! And you’re a liar! You’re a catfisher! And by the way, how appropriate. Fisherman? Catfishing? I bet you got a lot of good laughs out of that, didn’t you?”
“OK. I warned you.”
She blinks at me.
And then I flip her back over one more time. I pin her arms to the floor, straddle her waist, and press my hips into hers.
“Get off me,” she growls. “Right now.”
“No.”
She squirms underneath me. “Get. Off. Me.”
“Nope. I gave you a chance. You decided to keep fighting. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for two years, Tara. We are going to fuck.”
She laughs. “Is that what you think this is? Some… prelude to fucking?” She huffs. “You’re insane.”
“Tell me no, then.” She opens her mouth, but I let go of one wrist to place my hand over it before she can speak. “Be very careful what you say next, Tara. Because if you tell me no, then I’m done. I have been worried sick about you for three fucking days. I called and called and called. And you didn’t even have the decency to pick up, let alone call me back and let me know you were OK. And then you show up here? Like I forced this on you? You. Showed up. Here. At my fucking house. And now you want to play you’re-the-bad-guy with me? Fuck you.”
I take my hand away from her mouth.
“Can I speak now?”
“Feel fuckin’ free.”
“I fell for you, Lonnie! I fell so fucking hard! And your name isn’t even Lonnie! I’m mad at you, OK? So pissed off at you! Because I trusted you. And that’s not an easy thing for me to do. And then I find out my whole fucking life is a lie and on the same day—practically in the same damn moment—I find out you’re a lie too? Everything is a fucking lie so I’m…” She pauses, her eyes filling up with water. And then two tears leak out and slide down the side of her face. “So I’m mad at you, Lonnie. So very, very angry with you.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Sorry doesn’t fix anything!”
“I know. But I’m still sorry. And if I had known that your life was falling apart the other day, I would’ve saved my truth for a better moment. I just… I’m tired of this, Tara. I’m tired of pretending with you. I just wanted you to see the real me so you could decide if I was still the person you fell for. That’s all. I swear to God, that’s all it was. Because I fell for you too, babe. So fuckin’ hard. And this—you… here! Holy shit! It’s like fucking Christmas Day for me. I wanted to invite you down here but I was afraid you’d say no. And—”
She reaches up with both hands. And for a second I think she’s gonna hit me. So I stop talking. But she says nothing.
“What?” I ask.
“Shut up.”
“What?”
“Just…” She presses her lips together. “Just shut up and fuck me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - TARA
He just stares at me while whole eternities of silence slip past us.
I realize I’m holding my breath so I let it out. “What the fuck is happening? Am I about to be rejected? Why am I such a dumbass? And when did I actually turn into loser Tara Tanner? Phoebe Covington wouldn’t even waste her time with these stupid games. She’d flip her hair, turn up her nose, and walk away from you. Sure that there was something much better than you just around the corner. So what the fuck are you doing, Lonnie? Why aren’t you ripping my clothes off?”
He puts a finger up to my lips. “Shhhh.”
I slap it away. “No! I’m not gonna shush. You have five seconds to rip my clothes off or I’m walking out your door and trust me, buddy, I won’t be back.”
“Tara.”
“What?”
“Stop talking.”
“I’ll stop talking when you start ripping my clothes off.”
“Don’t you get it?”
“No. I actually don’t get anything right now. I don’t understand one damn thing.”
“I’m memorizing this moment.”
“Why?”
“So later, when you’re like… sleeping or at work… I can jerk off to the memory of this convo.”
I huff. Then laugh. “What the fuck? Jesus Christ, Lonnie. I thought you were about to kick me out!”
“I’m gonna picture your face all hot and angry. Your eyes all welled up with tears and your heart beating all fast and furious. I’m gonna think about how I hiked you over my shoulder and spanked your ass. And how I carried you into my house like a caveman and bossed you around. And how you slapped me, and yelled, and got me all hard when you flipped me over and rubbed your pussy—”
“OK, already! I’m horny! Let’s go!”
He does this sideways grin thing—I’m talking chin dimple, cheek dimple, blow-my-mind-and-melt-my-heart sort of smile—then clicks his tongue and says, “Aw, no. babe. It’s not gonna be that easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is our first time, Tare. Our real first time. This needs to be epic.”
“Lonnie Derringer, everything I do is epic. Now stop talking and—”
“Nope. I’m just barely getting our first IRL fuck started.” He stares down into my eyes like he can see straight through to my soul. Then he sighs. And to my surprise—even though everything about this day is unfamiliar and strange—he is neither unfamiliar nor strange. I recognize him. His eyes, the way he tilts his head, his sigh. Even that flashy grin he just unleashed on me without warning. It’s all there.
It’s all him. The him I know.
“What are you wearing right now?”
I blink. “What?” I look down at my body, then back up at him. “I know it’s not a great outfit. I didn’t have a chance to pack before we left Colorado so I’m just bumming clothes from Vann.”
He chuckles.
“It’s not a big deal. We’re not… you know. He’s… you know, young.”
He chews on his lip for a moment, still beaming that grin at me. “Are you naked yet?”
“What?”
“You’re not, are you. And don’t try to lie to me. I can tell when you’re lying.”
I guffaw. “Oh, yeah, you can tell. We’re a couple of regular lie detectors, aren’t we?”
He closes his eyes for one prolonged
moment, then opens them up and says, “So tell me what you’re wearing.”
Ahhh… I laugh. I get it. “OK.” I take a breath and think for a moment. “I’m wearing my new pencil skirt.”
He clenches his jaw. “I fuckin’ love those skirts.”
“But my blouse is a little tight today. I accidentally put it in the dryer and it shrank two sizes. My tits are practically popping the buttons.”
“Play with them for me.”
There was a hint of a tingle between my legs when he started the dirty talk, but right now it’s turning into a buzz.
I am about to be fucked. Not on the phone. For real. I’m about to be properly fucked for the first time in over two years. “OK,” I say. “I’m playing with them.”
He grins. “I think you’re lying, Tara Tanner. I want you to prove it.”
“Do you want a picture?”
“Nah. I don’t think I need a pic.”
“Then what should I do to prove it?”
“Describe it.”
“Oh.” I grin back at him. “OK. Well, I just ripped my shirt open and the buttons went—”
His hands grab my t-shirt at the collar and the next thing I know, he’s ripped it down the middle. Like—one second I’m wearing a t-shirt and then next cool air is flowing against my bare stomach, chilling me unexpectedly.
“Nice,” he growls. “I love when things pop. Now what are you doing?”
I’m holding my breath again, so I let it out. God. I’ve missed him. It’s only been three days, but I’ve missed his playfulness and his sexy sense of humor. It feels like an eternity. And I know I came here angry. So ready to tell him off. And my world is pretty much upside down at the moment. But in the same moment of upsidedown-ness, there a hint of right-side-up. And that doesn’t happen often. I know better than most that when you find a good thing you gotta hold onto it. You can’t give in to every little doubt. You can’t just say ‘so long, nice knowing you’ just because your best friend tells you the man you love is a smuggler.
Wait. I forgot about that. “You know… I kinda have some questions for you, Lons. Did you and your brother… and Belinda—er, Rosalie—ever—”